Total pages in book: 100
Estimated words: 97535 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 488(@200wpm)___ 390(@250wpm)___ 325(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 97535 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 488(@200wpm)___ 390(@250wpm)___ 325(@300wpm)
But I don’t have a chance to consider the discomfort or anything else, because I hear it. The first sounds of our baby. Before I turn my head to look at the monitor, Jericho’s hand tightens around mine and my eyes fill up with warm tears. My chest swells as I listen to the quick, strange echo of my baby’s heartbeat.
“There he or she is,” Dr. Barnes says. “We won’t know the sex just yet, if you want to know at all.”
“No,” I say quickly, glancing up to Jericho to find his eyes locked on that monitor. “We don’t want to know the sex.”
Jericho glances down at me. Nods. “As you wish.” He shifts his gaze back to the monitor as I do too, and we watch this tiny blob that doesn’t look exactly like a baby. Dr. Barnes measures this and that, explaining things I don’t hear because I’m too busy listening to that little heartbeat. Watching the tiny life on the screen. Wholly enthralled.
We leave an hour later and, in my hand, I’m clutching about two dozen photographs of the baby.
“Angelique will love to see these,” I tell him absently as we climb into the backseat of the car. I don’t know this driver. He’s new since Dex is gone. I glance to Jericho as he closes the door behind himself. “When will she be back?”
“I’m not sure yet.”
His expression darkens and I remember the other part of our lives. The one where we’re not a normal couple who just had the first glimpse of their baby.
We’re a couple dealing with people who mean us harm. Where the threat is real enough to Jericho that he sent his little girl away to keep her out of danger.
“What did you find out in the autopsy?” I ask, the happy mood vanished almost as if it wasn’t even there at all.
He looks at me. “I’ll deal with that. You don’t have to worry about that.”
I study him and I think he means well. I do. But this is about me too.
“There is something then?” There is. I don’t know how I know, but I do. “He didn’t die of a heart attack, did he?”
He sighs, but neither confirms nor denies, at least not verbally. He just keeps his gaze straight ahead as we get to the next place. The next surprise, I guess. The car pulls up in front of Cotton Candy and I can see from the windows that it’s completely empty inside. The lights are on and I see Megs at the counter typing on her laptop, a mug at her side.
“Second surprise,” Jericho says as he opens the door, climbs out and extends his hand for me.
I’m still clutching the photographs, so I unzip my purse, putting them inside, then take his hand and step onto the sidewalk. I can’t help my glance down the street where that van had come from and he must see it, because he tugs me closer.
“It’s fine. I wouldn’t bring you here if you wouldn’t be safe.”
I smile up at him but my question of moments ago lingers, a shadow on what should be a bright day. He found something in Carlton’s autopsy. Something that makes his death not a natural one.
Julia.
No. I don’t let myself go down that road. Not yet.
“Why is the cafe empty?” I ask as we walk inside, the driver standing by the door.
“Key’s in the lock,” Megs says to Jericho then rolls her eyes at me when he turns his back to lock it.
“What’s going on?” I ask anyone who will answer me.
Megs comes around the counter to the single table that is set with pink and blue balloons and two place settings. On the table sits a silver carafe of coffee, a pot of steaming tea, and a gorgeous cake, also pink and blue, rests between them.
“Your husband rented the place out for the day,” she says, gaze shifting to Jericho as he smiles, wrapping an arm around me. “Because he’s crazy,” she adds before gesturing to the table. “The seat with the gift is for you,” she adds as Jericho pulls out the chair.
“You rented the whole place?” I ask him as I settle in.
“Yes,” he answers like it’s the most normal thing in the world to do. “The balloons are a little overdone, don’t you think?” he asks Megs.
She juts one hip out, sets her hand on it and takes his measure. It’s a look that would have most men cowering, but my husband isn’t most men.
“No, I don’t think it’s overdone at all. And if you like those so much, you’re going to love the inside of the cake.”
He shifts his gaze to the brightly colored pink and blue cake. “Christ,” he mutters and sits down.
“See now, that just made my day that much happier. Oh, and of course earning about five times more than the café being open would have brought in. Thanks for that by the way,” she says to him then turns to me, smiles. “You. Open your gift.”