“I’m pregnant, not made of glass. And mopping isn’t particularly taxing.”

“Still, you’re already working full-time, and you have your art studio. You have enough on your plate without all the extra stuff that comes with maintaining a house, don’t you think?” His question is soft, not demanding, and he’s taken on a tone I recognize. It was the same one he used every time I would try to take on another wedding project for Ryan and Queenie.

Could I delegate some of it? Would one of the other girls be able to help with that? I didn’t need to take on everything myself.

He would always put a hand on my shoulder and step into my personal space, just like he’s doing now. It was as disarming as it was welcome.

I tip my head up so I can meet his concerned gaze. “I have a cleaner, and she was here on Wednesday, but I was restless this morning, and when I’m restless I tidy. It’s what I do. Which you already know. And then I wore myself out and fell asleep. Hence this exceptionally sexy look I’m sporting.” I motion to my less than appealing outfit. “I’d planned to be wearing something that doesn’t scream too lazy for real clothes, but I didn’t have time to change on account of my spontaneous napping.”

“I happen to like this outfit.” He tugs at the sleeve of my shirt. It’s loose and hangs off one shoulder, exposing my black bra strap.

“You can thank Queenie, then, since she’s the one who picked it out for me.”

“Speaking of my daughter, it looks like she’s messaging you.” He nods at my phone, which buzzes on the side table, right next to the mop and his keys.

I’ve missed a lot more than calls from Jake during my nap. “She’s probably checking to see if you made it here okay.”

“She knows I did. She’s already messaged me sixty times since the plane landed. She wants me to share her list of baby names with you,” he says wryly.

I smile. Her excitement has helped balance out my fears. “She did that earlier this week.”

“She has a new one on the go, and recently she’s been retracting her choices and telling me she’d like to reserve the names for her own baby, which is fine by me, because I don’t really think I want to call our kid Jax or Ambrosia. I know I was a little out there with the whole Queenie thing, but it suits her, you know?”

I laugh. “It does. And I’m very glad to hear that both Jax and Ambrosia are off the table.”

He swipes a hand across his forehead. “Phew. That’s a relief. I was hoping for something more traditional, like Jacob Junior.”

“I wouldn’t have a problem with that, unless we’re having a girl. Then it would require an annoying amount of explanation.” I settle my hand low on my belly. There isn’t movement yet, but soon, if all goes well, I’ll get to feel him or her doing acrobatics in there.

“Hmm.” Jake taps his lips. “You make a good point. What if we add an A to the end if it’s a girl?”

“Uh, I’m vetoing Jacoba right now.”

“Maybe it’ll grow on you.”

“Like fungus?”

He laughs and I grin, glad that despite everything, we still seem to have fun together.

“If you need me to tell her to dial it down, I can,” he offers. “I know she’s excited, and I think it’s good that she is, but I don’t want it to overwhelm you either.”

“It’s okay. It’s actually been really nice. And I’m comfortable enough with Queenie to be honest with her about things like that.”

“Okay. That’s good. I figured, but I wanted to put it out there.” He rocks back on his heels. “She, uh . . . sent some stuff for you. I can get settled, and then you can check out the gifts from Queenie?”

“That would be great. Maybe we can talk about how we’re feeling now that we’ve had time to digest things? Go over what to expect tomorrow?”

“That sounds perfect.” His smile is gentle and warm.

I lead him down the hall and push open the first door on the right. “This is the spare room.” I put fresh sheets on the bed this morning. The frame is simple, whitewashed wood. The comforter is a very pale yellow, and the pillows are different shades of yellow and orange. The walls are white and so is the dresser set. “It’s a bit bright. And feminine.” Not that he needed me to tell him that since he’s standing in the middle of the room.

“Seems appropriate since you happen to fit into the bright and feminine categories as well.”

I poke him in the side. “My ex only liked grey and blue when it came to color themes, so I made some serious adjustments when I bought this place.”

“I like the yellow.”

“You don’t necessarily have to sleep in here.” I rub my bottom lip and look at him out of the corner of my eye. Way to make things awkward. “Unless you’d prefer to.”

Jake’s gaze moves slowly from the bed to me. There’s heat in it, but softness, too. “Do you have a preference?”

“My hormones have a preference.” I rub the bridge of my nose.

“I see how it is. You just want to ride this ride.” He motions to himself, grinning.

I bite my lips together. He’s not wrong, but he’s not right either. “I’ve missed you,” I admit.

“I’ve missed you, too.” He takes a few steps toward me, close enough that I can smell his cologne. He dips his head, wearing a smirk. “And I think this probably warrants a discussion, which we should probably have before we make a final decision on where I should be sleeping tonight.”

“Okay.” I exhale an unsteady breath. In the past, whenever we saw each other, the first thing we’d do was get naked. It was always a flurry of clothing removal, roaming hands, and battling tongues. Half the time we didn’t make it to the bedroom. Sometimes we didn’t even make it past his front entryway. And then I put an end to it. Except now I’m trying to un-end it. And I’m pregnant. It’s a lot. And he’s right. We definitely need to have a conversation. I wish I had an inkling as to how he feels, so I don’t go embarrassing myself.

I motion to the door beyond the bed. “There’s an attached bath through there. I’ll let you get settled and I’ll meet you in the living room in a few?”

“Sounds good.”

I leave him in the spare room and rush down the hall to my own. My plan is to have a quick shower, but once I get started, I end up washing my hair.

And then I make the stupid decision to check my phone. The messages from the Seattle Girls are blowing up. There are two group chats: one with all the girls, including Queenie, and one without—we set up that one when we were working on a surprise group gift and her wedding shower. The most recent messages are in the group that doesn’t contain Queenie.

Violet: Girl, you have some explaining to do. I just finished extorting information out of my husband (you don’t want to know how) and I have it on good authority that JAKE IS IN TENNESSEE RIGHT NOW.

Lainey: *wide eyes* OMGee. You and Jake?

Stevie: Bishop said he caught you two making out.

Stevie: Wait. He said he caught you fixing Jake’s hair. Not the same.