“Every damn day is more like it,” she says, laughing. “Six years married, reminding him more times than I care to mention, and the man still can’t remember to hang his bath towel up! I’m sure he just does it to drive me crazy.”
“You know me, darlin’, I live to drive you crazy.” Smith puts his arm around her neck. He pulls her to him and presses a kiss to the top of her head. Giggling, Carly chastises him with a hand to the chest for ruffling her hair.
Their love for each other is so obvious, it’s infectious. I hope Jake and I are still that much in love six years into our marriage.
The thought escapes me, paining me, because I know when I tell Jake I’m pregnant, we probably won’t even have six more minutes together.
Especially when I tell him I’m keeping the baby.
“I’m just using all my notes from the tour,” I say, answering her question. “So Jake’s bad habits, like never cleaning out his stinky ashtray that he leaves out on the patio, are sure to be left out.” I slide him a look.
“You just clean them so much better than I ever could, baby,” he says, giving me a doe-eyed look.
It hits me right in the chest with a sharp twist, leaving me feeling breathless.
“Yeah, that works.” I give him a mock-stern look, forcing my façade back up.
Jake gives me one of his sexy smiles, the ones that let him get away with anything, as he leans over and plants a kiss on my cheek. My skin burns long after his lips have left me.
“What do you do for a living, Carly?” I ask, putting my focus on her.
“I’m an interior designer.”
“Best damn interior designer California has,” Smith says, proud.
“Do you have your own company?” I ask.
“I do.” She smiles. “It’s small, but I do okay.”
“We’ve just recently moved into a new house, and I could really use some help decorating it. If you’re not too busy, I’d love to hire you to help me. I haven’t got a clue where to start. That’s okay with you, isn’t it?” I ask Jake.
Why am I making plans to decorate?
I suppose the baby will need a nursery…
What the hell am I doing, getting all moony-eyed over this when I don’t even know if Jake wants this baby? He won’t, I know he won’t. I remember the look on his face when the subject came up on the island.
“Of course. I think it’s a great idea,” Jake answers, bringing me back to the present.
“Then I would love to.” Carly beams. “How about I come round to your house on Monday, and we can start from there?”
“Sounds great, I can’t wait.” If I’m still living there, that is. I force another smile.
“So you guys have been married six years,” I say, needing the subject change.
“Yep, and together for ten,” Carly answers. “We are the stereotypical high school sweethearts.”
“Maybe ‘stereotypical’ is pushing it a little far, darlin’. I was the lame grungy emo kid, and she was the hot cheerleader,” Smith explains. “It took me five years to get her to notice me; then, once I had her attention, I lured her in with my wit and charm, and we’ve been together ever since.”
“It was the persistence,” she says, laughing. “I figured a guy who had kept at it for that long must have some serious stamina.”
“So it was my persistence and stamina, not my hot body and charm?” Smith says, feigning shock.
“No, those are what got me to marry you.” She grins at him.
As I watch them interact, it warms my unsteady heart, and I feel Jake take hold of my hand under the table. When I look at him, smiling, he smiles back, but there’s something off about it.
Or maybe that’s just my own paranoia setting in.
“Have you guys set a date for the wedding?” Carly asks.
“July twenty-first,” Jake answers, beating me to it.
“How’s the planning going?” she directs her question to me.
“Slow,” I say with a grimace. “I just haven’t got a clue how to get started. So far, I have some wedding magazines, some dresses highlighted as maybes, and a drafted guest list.”
“Well, I’ve planned a wedding before, so if you need a hand at all, you let me know.”
“I might have to take you up on that offer.” I smile.
“Just call me interior designer and wedding planner extraordinaire,” she jokes with a flourish.
I laugh.
It’s easy to laugh when, for that moment, I’ve forgotten I’m pregnant. Then I remember I have our baby growing inside of me, and my mood drops like a rock in water.
The waiter comes over with the bottle of wine, and it’s at that moment Jake brushes my hair back revealing the nape of my neck. Leaning over, he whispers into my ear, “You look so sexy. If I could, I’d take you on this table right now. Dining table, later, at home?” He moves back, staring at me. His eyes are dark and fixed.
I nod mutely, forcing another smile.
He presses a soft kiss to my lips and moves back in his seat, then starts talking to Smith.
He wants to make love tonight.
Of course he does. We have sex every night. And morning.
But I can’t. Not with this on my mind.
I’m going to have to tell him before we get home.
Fuck.
We’ve said our good-byes to Carly and Smith and have just gotten in the car when I blurt out, “We need to talk. And it’s not something we can talk about at home.”
Pausing before he starts the car, he turns his head to look at me, his face full of myriad questions. “Why not?”