Liked that she was close.
He’d have to get a bigger place eventually, but until the baby was two or three, they’d be okay there.
He’d spent Labor Day with Tom, and video chatted with his mom, who’d wanted him to fly up to Oregon. She’d been calling him at least twice a week, and texting almost daily since finding out he was going to be a father. That she was finally going to be a grandmother, and was already making plans to fly down and stay with him after the baby was born.
He was grateful for the love. And for the help.
He just needed space left in his life for...
Christine.
She and her friend Olivia had spent the holiday at the women’s center. He didn’t actually speak to her, but when he’d texted to wish her a happy Labor Day, she’d sent a picture of her and the pediatrician standing behind three grills filled with burgers and more coleslaw than he’d ever seen in one place. They’d both been wearing aprons, and the huge grins on their faces had brought a smile to his. He’d saved the photo in his gallery.
His first photo of her.
On the Friday after Labor Day he invited her to his little cottage. He wanted to talk to her privately. And not in a business setting. He told her so right up front, giving her the chance to refuse, and then had difficulty maintaining his calm when she didn’t.
He’d never had trouble remaining calm. Not until Christine had come along.
Until the baby had.
He’d like to believe that his emotional upheaval was more in line with sympathy pregnancy than anything else. That he was on the normal, preparental roller coaster.
And there was some of that, to be sure. The highs and excitement, mixed with worries and insecurities about being a parent. A single, male parent.
None of it made him jittery. Anxious. Or manically active.
Only thoughts of Christine did that. He’d never been jittery with Emily.
He didn’t get it. He’d never so much as held Christine’s hand.
And yet the second he opened his door to her that next afternoon, he reached for her hand, guiding her inside like she couldn’t find the way herself. All two steps of it.
Realizing what he’d done, he pulled back almost immediately, but his hand knew the soft touch of her skin. And his mind was holding on. It wasn’t going to let him forget.
“Wow,” he said then, standing back to stare at her. “You look...great!” She wore capri pants with a tight, long, colorfully striped top and wedge shoes.
It was the first time he’d seen the shape of her stomach so clearly. “You’re...showing...”
He stared. Knew he was staring. Couldn’t stop.
Her chuckle only served to make the moment more potent. “You’ve seen the sonogram, Dad,” she said.
Silence fell and as his gaze rose to hers, she instantly sobered, her deep brown eyes locking him to her.
He was the host, but she recovered first. “So, what did you want to talk to me about?” she asked, looking beyond him to the L-shaped great room that encompassed living, kitchen and dining areas. A small hall led to two bedrooms with a rather large bathroom in between. A side door off the kitchen led to a two-and-a-half-car garage—which was one of the reasons he’d landed on the place. It had lots of space to store the boxes he’d wanted closer than his rented storage facility.
He wanted to show her the spare bedroom, currently consumed by his baby purchases. Wanted her to ooh and ahh over them. To want to see every single purchase. To touch and feel. To voice her opinions and suggestions.
He wanted to hear them.
And to get all gooey at the sight of the tiny little onesies he’d picked up in the university bookstore.
“Right,” he said instead, moving toward the couch and love seat that was fine for his home, but consumed the cabin’s much smaller space. “Have a seat.”
He offered her something to drink, but she lifted the aluminum water bottle she’d brought in with her and politely declined. Settled onto the edge of a cushion at one end of the couch.
Not planning to stay long.