Total pages in book: 41
Estimated words: 37781 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 189(@200wpm)___ 151(@250wpm)___ 126(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 37781 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 189(@200wpm)___ 151(@250wpm)___ 126(@300wpm)
“How’d you get here, anyway?” I ask Lucy, changing the subject while trying to sound calm and rational, even though my insides feel like they’re on a carnival ride.
She rolls her eyes to the ceiling. “Josh dropped me off,” she says, screwing up her face. “He got himself a job at some hotel only because he thought I was—” she starts to say, stopping herself and giving Bowdie a pleading look.
“Only because he thought I was ‘high maintenance,’” Lucy says, rolling her eyes again, unable to look me in mine when she says it. I guess she’s not the only one with a secret worth shedding a few white lies over.
I knew about Lucy and Josh, but I only suspected Lucy was pregnant. I never knew for sure until overhearing her tell her dad just now. It hurts that Lucy couldn’t tell me what was going on. It hurts more that she can’t even tell me after the fact that, no, she’s not pregnant. What hurts me most is knowing I’m gonna be the one doing the hurting once she finds out about her dad and me. Neither of us wants to hurt Lucy or Dad. Hell, they’re the last people we’d ever wanna hurt, but that’s just how it might happen unless they both decide how cute a couple Bowdie and I would make in the meantime.
We all stand awkwardly, me looking to Bowdie for a clear way forward and Lucy looking up at her dad, still giving him a look begging him not to tell me what he’s just found out about her and Josh.
One of the office phones on Bowdie’s desk pulses to life, and he almost looks relieved to answer it, turning away from us and murmuring in his clinical voice. That’s Bowdie, forever the picture of control in any crisis.
Lucy examines me up and down. “You all right, Beth? You seem… different,” she observes, making me flush a little, but she still hasn’t made the connection between her dad and me.
“You okay?” I ask mechanically. “About breaking up with Brad, I mean,” I explain, watching her face frown.
“I never said I was breaking up with him,” Lucy says defensively. “I just said he dropped me off,” she says, making me stifle a groan right when Bowdie turns to face me.
“Sure thing, Brad. Just here with the girls. Why don’t you come on up?” he says, shrugging with a look of disbelief as we consider how we went from having him balls-deep inside me to having the two people we’re trying to hide things from the most, both turning up within minutes of each other.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Bowdie
I guess we should be glad we got the time to ourselves we did today. I won’t say I forgot how busy I usually am, but even on a day when nothing’s scheduled except for Beth, it’s as if the two people who can’t find out are the only two to seek us out. First Lucy, then Brad. I can’t help wondering, or maybe even hoping, that the two of them might somehow be up to the same shenanigans as Beth and me, but no.
Brad really is just in the area and cruising by. He noticed my car in the otherwise empty parking garage, and, like Lucy, he decided to do what neither of them had for ages and “drop by.” I get it that Lucy needed to get something off her chest, and I am glad she came to me with it in the end, but probably more than anything, I’m happy she’s not the one getting pregnant. That’s my plan for Beth, so I don’t wanna be a grandfather before I’m a father for the second time.
It’s gonna be so hard on Lucy. I just know it is. Seeing Brad’s cheerful face doesn’t help my feelings much, and unlike Lucy, who has her own problems right now, Brad’s quick to pick up on Beth being at my office. Knowing me as well as he does and as a doctor, he knows my “job interview” story is hogwash.
The girls congregate by the floor-to-ceiling windows, speaking the way girls do in low tones, their faces lined with seriousness. We menfolk chew the fat over by my desk, and I start by quizzing Brad on why he’s here, but he’s more interested in what’s going on here than describing his work day to me.
“You uhhh… You got somethin’ going on you wanna tell me about?” Brad murmurs, stifling a grin, which means he can’t be thinking what I think he is.
“What do you mean?” I ask him with a shrug. “I fell asleep,” I tell him truthfully. “Jet lag.”
After I drilled your daughter and made plans to make her mine forever…
Brad smiles and nods, tapping the side of his nose as if he’s sharing some kind of inside information. “It’s all right, big guy. I can see what’s going on here, and if I’m completely honest, I’ll pretend to act surprised when it’s time,” he says in a near whisper, making my heart freeze in my chest.