Page 23 of Happily Evan After

Ridiculous.

EVAN: You’re there.

ME: I’m here.

ME: I’m taking a prenatal vitamin my doctor prescribed me.

ME: Since I’m considered geriatric for pregnancy, they’re watching me closely.

EVAN: Geriatric? That’s ridiculous.

ME: Anyone woman over 35 is considered to be in that category.

EVAN: You’re not geriatric. But I’m glad you’re getting good prenatal care.

EVAN: Can I come with you to the next doctor’s appointment?

ME: Sure.

We’d gone back and forth like that for over an hour. Talking about nothing and the pregnancy. I ignored all his flirtatious comments and tried not to like him more than I already did before he popped back up in my life. That seems like a futile battle.

After we’d concluded our texting conversation, my body had been so alert, so on edge, that I’d had to pull out my favorite toy to relieve some tension. We hadn’t discussed anything sexy, but just he was out there, in the same town as me. And imagining the sound of his deep voice, edged with that Texas twang had me all kinds of riled up.

The cats had deserted me when I’d turned on the vibrator, but they’d come back eventually. It had made me wonder if Evan liked cats. He’d told me that first night that he loved animals, but there were a lot of animal lovers out there who put cats in the same category as spiders.

Now, the following morning, I stare, bleary-eyed, out my front window at my pretty little fenced-in yard. That white-picket fence that borders my yard and all the pretty little window boxes are what sold this house for me. At the time, I’d had delusions of grandeur about my ability to nurture plants.

I’m good with animals, so it seemed logical I’d be good with plants. The reality is, not so much. Thankfully, I’ve got several crepe myrtles that flourish in the hot, dry Texas summer. So their pretty and brightly colored blooms are hopefully hiding the fact that I killed everything else in the yard.

I take another slow sip of my coffee—half caffeine, half decaf—because I’m trying to be good for baby girl’s sake. I had a rough night sleeping and feel as if I’m barely functioning this morning. Thankfully, it’s my day off, so I can move as slowly as I want to. Maybe I won’t even change out of my pajamas.

Something catches my eye on the left side of my yard. There’s a truck parked along the street across from my house. I’ve never officially met that neighbor, but I’ve heard they hate it when people park in front of their house.

If it wasn’t a thousand degrees outside, I’d go sit on my front porch just to watch that little old lady scold whoever was foolish enough to park on their street. I snicker to myself, then frown when I see the driver get out.

“What is he doing here?” I mutter.

Basil is the one that chirps a response. My pretty Siamese has always been the talker of my crew. Ambrosia is much more comfortable glaring from whatever perch she’s balanced herself on. And Badger, well, he’s an orange tabby with all the lunacy that comes with orange cats.

I blow out a breath, then set my coffee down and walk outside. I suppose it would be only right if I warned my baby’s daddy that he shouldn’t park in front of that particular neighbor’s house.

But when I step out on my porch, I get the full view of my yard, which now includes a blue pop-up tent.

“What in the actual fuck?”

“Oh good, you’re awake,” he says, walking towards me. He’s got one of those cup carriers in one hand, holding four to-go drinks, and has a bright pink bag in his other hand. I recognize immediately that the drinks are from The Coffee Cup, and that pink bag is definitely from Sugar Bakers, the local bakery.

It never occurred to me that my white picket fence isn’t very tall until I see Evan and his sexy, long legs merely step over the wood slats to get into my yard.

“What is that?” I ask, pointing at the tent.

His head tilts, and he gives me that boyish smile of his. “That’s a tent, Dimples. What part of the northeast did you come from that they don’t have tents?”

I glare at him. “Not what I meant. Why is it in my yard?”

“I have to sleep somewhere,” is his response. He’s closed the distance between us. “I brought breakfast.” He holds up the bag.

“You intend to bribe me with baked goods?”