Page 76 of Afterglow

And what happens when I go back to work after six months off? I don’t want to commute from the ranch every day, like I doubt he’ll want to move into town and do the commute the other way.

I know he’d do it, but would he want to?

I drum my fingers over my stomach as the anxiety ratchets up under the surface.

There will be nights and weekends we’ll have to work at our respective jobs. Who takes care of her when those overlap and we both have events? I’ve spent ten years building this career. Letting it go and finding something new seems daunting and like such a waste of all the effort I poured into it. But I don’t want to miss out on anything with her either.

Around and around I go. There’s no answer that makes sense, so once again, I push the thoughts away and hope for a magic answer to appear.

Knock. Knock. Knock.

I smile, my brain imagining it’s the magic answer on the other side of the door.

Candace, the receptionist, pokes her head in. “There’s a gentleman here to see you.” Her emphasis on the word gentleman and flushed cheeks pique my curiosity.

“Okay. I’m free now,” I say.

With a quick nod, she ducks out of the office.

I straighten my blouse and check my hair in the reflection of my computer monitor. I slicked it back into a ponytail this morning out of laziness. The positive side is every strand is still in place thanks to how I hairsprayed it to within an inch of its life.

A moment later, she’s followed into the room by the very man I was hoping against hope it would be. Bryce’s head swivels around, taking in my office, before his gaze finally lands on me behind my desk. My blood heats beneath my skin as his eyes rake down my body. Now I’m the one blushing, and I catch Candace’s eye behind his back. She shoots me a wink and fans herself for a moment before stepping out the door, and I have to hold back a laugh. She’s not wrong, this man is hot.

“What has you smiling, blondie?” His own smile is wide behind his beard and his eyes dance with mirth. “Couldn’t be me, now could it?”

Oh it absolutely could, but I dare not tell him that.

“You’re incorrigible,” I snark, but my cheeky grin stays firmly in place. I press my palms to the glass top of my desk and stand. He comes around to meet me, wrapping me in a hug that warms me from the tips of my toes to my already flushed cheeks.

My stomach presses against his. The movement that felt like flutters and then little bumps only four weeks ago has become full-on kicks and elbows now, and he chuckles when he pulls back. “She kicked me.”

“Yeah, she does that,” I offer with a shrug. “She kicks me all the time.”

His hand rests on my stomach, a motion he does all too easily these days. “How’s my little butterfly?”

If we were anywhere but my office, I’m pretty sure he’d bend and kiss my stomach, but he’s holding back. I wish he wouldn’t. It only makes him that much more attractive when he’s attentive to her.

“She’s good, very active today. What are you doing here?” I ask, stepping back. I need a breath of Bryce-free air, because his musky masculine scent does things to me that are wholly inappropriate for my place of work.

“I wanted to see if you’d like to have lunch with me and then maybe play hooky for the rest of the day. The rest of the weekend, if you don’t have events.” The hope in his voice is endlessly endearing.

I’ve never played hooky a day in my life. Not once in high school or even college did I miss classes for anything other than illness. And other than that first week of morning sickness, I’ve rarely missed a day of work either.

He continues. “I understand if you have plans, I know this is unexpected.”

“Seems to be our M.O.,” I say with a chuckle, looking down to where his hand still rests against my stomach. His returning laugh is deep and rumbly in his chest.

“So…” he prompts, fingers moving in a slow rhythm against me.

“Actually, I don’t have any events this weekend and I’ve caught up on everything I needed to do today as well… Your spontaneity may have just paid off.”

“Yeah?” he asks with unbridled eagerness, his eyes alight and his beard twitching up where his smile lifts his cheeks.

“Yeah, but… what did you have in mind? For the weekend?”

“I thought we could do a little staycation at my place.” He hesitates for a minute, slipping a piece of hair behind my ear. “Call it a trial run, for if you decide to move in after this little butterfly is born.”

“A trial run?” I say under my breath, letting the idea mull around in my brain.