Deciding she wasn’t going to get any more work done, she headed for the kitchen. She needed something to do with her hands and she had an urge for something sweet.
As she searched the cabinets, looking for something to appease her craving, her thoughts turned to Finn. He’d barely spoken to her since they left the doctor’s office. The occasional nod or grunt was about as much as she got out of him. She couldn’t blame him. It was a lot to adjust to. Her mind was still spinning. Her hand ran over her abdomen.
A baby. No, two babies. Inside her. Wow!
“How are you feeling?” Finn asked.
Four whole words strung together. She would take that as a positive sign. “Better.”
“And the babies?”
“Are perfectly fine.” She bent over to retrieve a cookie sheet from the cabinet.
“I can get that for you.” Finn rushed around the counter with his hands outstretched.
“I can manage.” She glared at him until he retreated to the other side of the counter.
She placed the cookie sheet on the counter before turning on the oven. “Did you need something?”
“You’re planning to bake? Now?”
“Sure. Why not? I have a craving.”
“Isn’t it a little early for those?”
She sighed. Why did he have to pick now of all times to get chatty? She just wanted to eat some sugary goodness in peace. “Not that kind of craving.”
“Then what kind?”
What was up with him? He’d never been so curious about her dietary habits before. Or maybe he was just attempting to be friendly and she was being supersensitive. She choked down her agitation, planning to give him the benefit of the doubt.
“These are cravings that I get when I’m stressed out.” She pulled open the door on the stainless-steel fridge and withdrew a roll of premade cookie dough. “Do you want some cookies?”
“If you’re stressed about Project Santa—?”
“It’s not that!”
His eyes widened. “Oh. I see.”
This was another opening for him to discuss the big pink or perhaps blue elephant in the room. And yet, he said nothing. Her gaze met his and he glanced away. Was this his way of telling her that he wasn’t interested in being a father?
She placed the package of cookie dough on the counter before moving to the oven to adjust the temperature. Next, she needed a cutting board. There had to be one around here somewhere. The kitchen was equipped with absolutely everything. At last, she spotted a small pineapple-shaped board propped against the stone backsplash.
With the cutting board and a knife in hand, she moved back to the counter. “I’ll have some reindeer cookies ready in no time. I thought about some hot chocolate with the little marshmallows, but it’s a little warm around here for that.”
“Thanks. But I’ll pass on the cookies. I have some emails I need to get to. By the way, do you have a copy of the Cutter contract?”
“I do. It’s in my room. Just let me finish putting these cookies on the tray.” She put a dozen on the tray and slipped it in the oven. “Okay. There.” She turned back to him. “Stay here and I’ll be right back.”
She rushed to her spacious guest room that overlooked the ocean. It was a spectacular view. She was tempted to take a dip in the sea or at the very least walk along the beach, letting her feet get wet. Maybe she’d do it later, after she was done working for the day.
Turning away from the window, her gaze strayed over the colorful packages she’d brought back from the big island. She’d splurged a bit, buying a little something for everyone, including her half-sisters, Suzie and Kristi.
Holly worried her bottom lip. She always tried so hard to find something that would impress them and each year, she’d failed. Thankfully she’d bought the gifts before her doctor’s appointment because afterward she hadn’t been in a holly-jolly spirit. The bikinis, sunglasses, flip-flops and a cover-up with the name of the island were placed in yellow tissue-paper-lined shopping bags. The girls would be all set for summer. About the same time she was giving birth.
With a sigh, Holly continued her hunt for the contract. On top of the dresser, she found the file folder. She pulled it out from beneath a stack of papers and an expandable folder when the back of her hand struck the lamp. Before she could stop it, the lamp toppled over.