Page 85 of Duke
Her expression softens. “Thanks.”
“And sounds like a plan about going back to your place.”
Only when Wheeler closes her laptop and stands up an hour later, putting her hands on her lower back to stretch, I’m hit by the image of her with a pregnant belly.
A very pregnant belly, our baby tucked snugly inside.
We made a baby. Still can’t get over that fact.
What would our daughter look like? Because in this fantasy, I guess we’re having a girl.Whowould she look like? Hopefully more like her mama than me.
I’m suddenly gripped by a fierce urge. One that feels an awful lot like protectiveness. I’d take damn good care of Wheeler and the baby. If, of course, Wheeler would let me.
“You okay?”
I blink, Wheeler’s voice yanking me back into the present.
“Yeah. Sorry. Spaced for a minute there.” I fold my laptop and tuck it into my backpack. “How are you feeling?”
She makes a face and puts a hand on her stomach.
Herflatstomach.
“I’m starting to feel nauseous again. Just my luck, I’m part of the minority of women who get morning sickness this early.”
I grin. “That’s why you have me. You like peppermint?”
“I do.” She furrows her brow. “Why?”
“Was just reading about how it might help with nausea. I’ll stop and grab some on our way back to your place.”
She blinks. “Okay. Great. Thank you.”
“I wish you’d stop doing that,” I say with a chuckle, putting my hand on the small of her back as we head for the door.
“Doing what?”
“Acting all surprised and shit when someone does something nice for you.” I follow her outside.
She chuckles too, although the sound has an edge. “It’s cute how you assume being shown respect is a given in everyday life.”
“Shouldn’t it be?” Despite the ardent afternoon sun that shines directly into our faces, I meet her eyes. “Who in the world ever made you feel unworthy of something as basic as respect?”
She waves away my question. “Still up forTitanic?”
I debate whether to press her for an answer. Her brother seemed nice enough—I could tell they’re close. But what about everyone else in her family? Now I’m thinking about those times on the drive to Aspen that she sent her dad’s calls to voicemail. And the fact that Haines said their older brother was a dick.
My hand tightens into a fist around the strap of my backpack. He a dick to Wheeler? Was her dad also an asshole?
I don’t like that idea.
But then Wheeler is reaching out to open the passenger side door of my truck. I beat her to it just in time. She calls me a pain in the ass, but she’s smiling as she says it. I take her bag and put it behind the bench, then help her climb inside.
Jogging around the hood, I send up a silent prayer that she lets me spend the night again.
Maybe this time she’ll let me sleep under the covers.
CHAPTER 20
