Page 47 of Nine Month Contract
I stand to make my way toward the door and hear her say, “I’m sure someone will adopt her just to turn her into lucky rabbit-foot key chains. Lucky for them…not for poor Strudel.”
I pause, my eyes rolling to the ceiling.
“Or maybe they’ll turn her into a hearty rabbit stew,” she adds, her voice cracking. “Never mind that she was the only one who snuggled me when I was puking my guts out this week because of this precious baby inside me.”
I turn and eye her warily. “I know what you’re doing.”
Her nose wrinkles. “It’s fine. I don’t need that kind of comfort these next nine months. It wasn’t a part of the contract, and we’re not friends or anything, so…” Her voice trails off as she clutches the tiny animal to her cheek, dropping soft kisses on its long ears while hitting me with puppy dog eyes. My mind briefly flashes to the sight of a little girl with her eyes, begging me for a puppy.
The baby could have her eyes.
I drop my head and aggressively rub my hand over it, trying to put those thoughts well away. With a heavy sigh, I begrudgingly murmur, “Okay, friend, the rabbit can stay.”
She gasps. “Did you hear that, Strudel? The mountain man said you get to live! Thank you, Wyatt. You’re a great friend.”
I grumble and walk out of her apartment, eyeing the mess of dishes in the sink. If she gets what she wants, then that means I can get what I want…and I want a few things for my maddening new friend here.
WeeksPregnant:9½
AnimalsontheMountain:3
Over the next few days, I’m greeted by a brown Mercantile bag in front of my door. Every day, come rain or shine, before I head out for work at six o’clock, there’s a buttery, flakey, gooey croissant waiting for me. One day, it had chocolate in it. Another day, a side of jam. Today’s looks like some sort of donut/croissant combination, and I practically orgasm when I take a bite of it.
When I hoof it down the steps, I pause in stuffing my face as I spot Wyatt in Reginald’s pen, filling his trough up with feed.
“What are you doing?” I ask, glancing inside the stall to see that this mountain man has mucked it and filled it with fresh water as well. Reggie is still passed out cold. Not even food will wake my fat boy up. A king needs his beauty sleep.
“Good morning to you too,” Wyatt huffs as he steps out of Reggie’s pen. He closes the gate and eyes me carefully, his gaze sweeping over my entire body in a way that makes my veins hum. “How are you feeling?”
I struggle to breathe normally as I stand in front of him. Something about him telling me I was attractive a few days ago has made things feel different between us. Almost…naughty, which I know sounds fucking weird because I’m not a child, but I feel guilty looking at him the way I do these days.
Today, I can’t help but notice the flecks of gray in his beard and temples. He’s not George Clooney–level gray by any means, but he’s got a little salt mixed with that pepper, and it’s not a bad look on a guy pushing forty.
And those frown lines he’s rocking are totally self-induced. I swear he’s always in a state of perpetual scowl. You’d think the potential of being a soon-to-be single father would have made him smile more often.
“I’m feeling fine,” I state casually, tearing my eyes away from his body.
“What about the nausea?”
My stomach roils a little with just the mention of it. “It’s still there, but it’s getting better.” Honestly, his breakfast deliveries help, but I’m not about to tell him that.
“Are you doing my chores?” I ask, wiping a bit of donut off the corner of my mouth.
Wyatt shrugs and moves over to Millie’s pen next. “It’s no trouble.”
“Um…yes, it is. It’s big trouble,” I reply, following him as he heads outside to fill the bucket of water from the hydrant by the outdoor shower. “And I assume you’re the one leaving me the baked goods every morning?”
He nods and smiles. “A croinut was today’s special. It’s a croissant/donut combination. Do you like it?”
“I love it, but it has to stop.”
“Why?”
“Because I leave at the butt crack of dawn every day.”
“So?”
“You don’t need to wake up early, drive down the mountain, buy me fresh bakery items, and drive it back up here. That’s crazy.”
