Page 75 of Bound Hearts

And when we get there, he gently collapses with his arms draping over me, his cheek against my back, and he stays inside me a little longer.

“If it keeps feeling like this once our son is here, I’ll have to put another baby inside of you as soon as I can.” His sarcasm still deserves a response.

Glancing over my shoulder with a funny glare, I have to chide, “Don’t you fucking dare.”

The massage did everything I needed it to. I left feeling relaxed and as though I were floating. I sink into my chair at the Italian restaurant nearby. My chair has a blue balloon attached, and the table is covered in blue confetti and a bag with tissue paper. Savannah and Elodie surprised me.

“You don’t want a baby shower, so we are having a baby shower-ish lunch. We can get away with that, right?” Savannah checks as she sips from her pink bellini.

I wave them off. “I have so many relaxation endorphins right now that I can’t even say no.”

Elodie hands me a glass of water with a fresh strawberry in it, served in a flute. I accept it—something I’ve liked lately, as my love of wine and coffee had to take a break. Elodie smiles and says, “Remind me to book whatever you had. You are very Zen, and I could use that.”

“Your little princess turning into something else less delightful?” Savannah asks, and it causes me to chuckle at her phrasing.

Elodie straightens her posture. “She’s… expressing her feelings,” she explains tightly. It’s obvious her daughter has entered a new phase.

“Now isn’t the time to scare me off of what’s coming,” I humorously remind her.

“You’re fine. How is the father-to-be? Freaking out yet?” she wonders.

Shaking my head, I can honestly say, “No. He’s calmer than me. Always has been, from day one. I think he’s also busy with work and has had a few business trips. He’s occupied. Plus, he isn’t the one physically doing this. But there is never a debate about anything. We’re having someone come to coach us on what to do for the big day. I’m kind of intent on avoiding pain, so all options are on the table for how to deal with that.”

Savannah beams. “I was Elodie’s partner in crime for her labor. If you ever need backup, then I’m a pro.”

“Thanks, I’ll keep that in mind.” However, Foster wouldn’t miss the day for the world.

The waiter arrives in a white shirt and a black apron from the waist down. He sets a basket of bread down and asks us what we would like. We order a few things, and then he disappears.

I angle to Savannah. “How was the honeymoon?”

Her skin is perfectly sun-kissed. “Fantastic. I didn’t want to leave the Seychelles. Alas, life awaited. You should do a babymoon.”

Shaking my head, I pour a little olive oil onto my plate. “Tempting, but it feels a little cliché, no?”

Elodie shoots her hand out and grips my wrist. “Do it. I repeat, do it. Take in every moment you can before the baby arrives. You don’t know what sleep pattern awaits,” she says, adamant.

I laugh and consider her insistence, drumming my fingers on my knee. When appetizers arrive, we plate out tomato salad and eggplant parmesan. I’m then promptly handed my gifts.

“I’m not supposed to tell you, but the office is arranging a gift. There is the HR one and then one from the colleagues who care. Your favorite manager actually wanted to contribute a little extra,” Elodie informs me.

My forehead crinkles. “Really? Did the seas part or something?”

We chuckle, a warm relief softening my nerves, before I dip my hand into the bag to reveal my first gift: a box with different balms for pregnancy, labor, and the newborn phase—a small comfort for me. When I discovered another gift, maternity lace lingerie, my face went cherry red with surprise. Then there were a few adorable outfits, including a onesie with numbers for each week old, which made me gasp and laugh. Lunch was fun, filling me with gratitude and lightness—just what I needed.

It’s no wonder that we all reflected on how funny it is that three friends from Everhope all ended up with three men who are friends, colleagues, and want to give us the world in ways we never envisioned.

We toasted to it, very aware of how lucky we are.

When lunch wrapped up, Elodie had to leave to get home to Lola. I wait inside while Savannah is in the bathroom. Even with the valet awning, it’s cold, and the rain today is falling hard.

Waiting, I balance the few bags that I have, adjusting their weight on my arms. I’m redistributing the bags on my arms when I hear a masculine voice.

“Sutton.”

My attention snaps up to see Patrick entering the room. I smile, pleasantly surprised, my lips curving as I meet his gaze. I don’t know enough about him other than that he will be this baby’s family.

“Oh, hey.”