Page 80 of Good as Gold
“Okay,” I whisper. “I’m still sorry.”
“Don’t be sorry. It will happen for me or not, you know? I have to make my peace with it. So I’m just going to sit here, treat myself to some chocolate, and not worry too much.”
I swallow hard. “You need anything? More chocolate?”
“Probably not a great idea,” she says, and there’s humor in her voice. “But I appreciate the offer. I’ll see you Saturday night, okay?”
“Actually—what are you doing tonight?” I ask.
“Sitting on my couch with the bottle of Advil nearby. Why?”
“I’m in the mood to cook, and I can’t do that in a trailer. Can I make you dinner?”
She’s so quiet for a second that I wonder if she’s going to turn me down. “Wait, youcook?”
“Yeah, sure. Doesn’t everyone?”
“No sir,” she says. “And I will eat anything you make me. But I swear I’m okay—you don’t have to do this.”
“I know that, honey. I’m shamelessly using you for your kitchen. Steak and loaded baked potatoes okay? I’ll be there at six.”
We hang up, and I sip my coffee in the sunshine.
The sadness I feel makes no sense. I’m not the one who wants to raise a baby. This is Leila’s project.
But I really care about her. More than she can know. Somehow, it’s gotten a lot easier to picture her holding a child who has Rossi-brown eyes. I feel ready for that to happen.
But maybe it never will.
CHAPTER30
LEILA
Sure, sex is nice. But have you ever watched a hot guy make homemade blue cheese dressing in your kitchen, while you sit like a lump on a stool sipping red wine?
If I didn’t have cramps, I’d probably get turned on watching him operate my salad spinner.
The more time I spend with Matteo, the harder I struggle not to compare him to Rory. My ex didn’t cook. At all. He had no interest in it. That man would have eaten the same fast-food hamburgers every night of his life if I’d let him. We were so mismatched it isn’t even funny.
“I’ve been thinking,” Matteo says as he checks the baked potatoes in the oven. “In two weeks, I’ll still be here for round three. And maybe round four after that. But come August, I’m heading back to Colorado.”
“That’s right,” I agree, careful to keep my voice pleasant. “I’ve done that math, too. It’s okay. Either it happens or it doesn’t.”
He straightens up and gives me a look that knows exactly how much this matters to me. “Do you ever call in sick at school?”
“Rarely. Why?”
He picks up my pepper grinder and seasons the steaks. “There’s a daily flight from Burlington to Denver. You could make a couple strategic visits to Colorado. Just saying.”
There goes that heart flutter again. “Like, a cross-continental booty call?”
“Exactly like that.” He wiggles his bushy eyebrows. “Or, if that doesn’t work, we could skip a couple months until I could get away in late November, or early December at the latest. But that’s my last window for leaving Colorado until late spring.”
He says this matter-of-factly. As if he wasn’t offering to make a continued sacrifice on my behalf. “Wow, I really appreciate it. And I will think about this. But at some point, this project is going to cramp your style.”
I can’t help but wonder how he’ll feel about forgoing casual sex in Colorado while he’s trying to get me pregnant. It probably hasn’t even occurred to him.
He leans on the counter and looks me right in the eyes. “Maybe let me worry about that, okay?”
