“Do you want to do Tuesday again? It is exactly a month then, or move it?” she asked, almost tripping up on the word Tuesday.It was only a day of the week, Amanda, and it happened every week.
“No, that works for me. First thing in the morning, is that open?” Ruth asked.
She typed her name into the calendar as she bit her lip because it was starting to quiver. In a month, Tuesday won’t matter anymore. “Yes, you can bring Anderson if you want.”
“I will. A month on Tuesday.” Ruth looked at her in confusion.
Fighting back the tears, she pretended to do more on the computer, but everything on the screen screamedTuesday. Fighting back the despair, she said, “Yes. Can you show yourself out, Ruth? I’ve got to get the room cleaned up.”
“Sure. Thanks, Mandy. I love having the clinic in town and that you’re running it.” Ruth gave her another happy hug. Or half happy. Because as much as she wanted to be happy for her friend, she wasn’t able to.
Amanda remained seated as she watched Ruth leave and shut the door behind her. With the click, she broke down as the sobs overtook her. Tuesday. She would see Ruth every Tuesday and see her baby grow. Every Tuesday, even after her own baby was long gone. How was she going to be happy for her friends when their happiness at being pregnant and having babies was killing her inside?
The day that Ruth was scheduled to come in, Amanda would be on her twenty-fifth week. But how many weeks would she have been without it by that time? Two? Three? Why can’t it just happen so she can get back to her life? The constant threat was causing her more stress than anything she had ever faced in her professional career.
Breathing deeply to control her emotions, she chanted to herself, “Enjoy the time you have with the baby, enjoy the time you have with the baby.” Because it was the only time she would have with the baby she wanted so bad, and it hurt to think about what was going to happen soon. Too soon.
CHAPTER6
“I thoughtthat we decided the team needs you to wear a jersey,” Hue was saying as he looked her up and down on Sunday afternoon. It had been a week since he had given it to her, and she had worn it almost every evening after work. As of Thursday, sadly, it no longer smelled like him, which wasn’t why she was giving it back. Once the smell had gone, she had lost interest in wearing it.
“I have to give that back to you.” She hadn’t washed it since she didn’t know the rules on lucky shirts.
“No, you keep it, but you have to wear it.” He was looking again at her Orange Landstad Tigers sweatshirt over the black leggings. They were the only type of pants she owned that fit her anymore. He, of course, was in basketball shorts and a Vikings jersey. His legs were mouthwateringly muscly.
“It’s book club, Hue. I’m not wearing a football jersey to Ruth’s.”
“But you’ll wear that?” He waved his hand over her outfit as if her outfit didn’t measure up.
“I support the home team, but not your home team, apparently.” They had both been Landstad Tigers in high school, and she still supported the local team. He did too, but not on football Sundays.
“The Tigers aren’t playing an important game today.” He smiled.
“Nor is your team, just a regular game,” she argued.
His hand slammed to his chest like he was really injured. “Take that back, Nordskov. All games are important. Each and every one brings us closer to playoffs.”
At his stern face, she laughed and pushed past him to the couch. “It’s just a game, Hubert.”
He grabbed her from behind and lifted her off the floor so she couldn’t reach it.
“Put me down.”
“First, you have to say the game is important.” His words came from right behind her ear and sent a shiver down her spine.
What was it about just his voice that could turn her on now? “Your game is important,” she whispered, unable to catch her breath while he held her in his strong, warm arms. Her body was pressed into his, and all she could smell was him.
“Now say that you will never ever call me Hubert again.” His hands moved, so he was almost touching her breast now.
If she just moved the right way, he would be. “But you call me Nordskov all the time,” she argued and shifted slightly.
She felt him touch her ear with his mouth as he said, “Say it, Nordskov.”
“Never,” she breathed out. Her mind had them naked already, and she was getting turned on just thinking about it.
“Nordskov.” He slid his hand up, and it grazed the underside of her breast.
“Hue,” was all she could say as his mouth lightly touched her neck.