Page 31 of The Grump I Married
She chuckled, shaking her head. “I adored babies and fussed over them constantly. I had every kind of doll imaginable. Ones that cried and blinked at you. Ones that needed to be bottle fed. Ones that needed diaper changes.”
I wrinkled my nose. “I can’t see how that’s much fun.”
Lena shrugged. “It was to me. There was nothing I wanted more than a sibling. One I could dote on and dress up. That’s actually how Tess and I became close. When we were in second grade,she couldn’t stop talking about the fact she was about to be a big sister.”
“So, what?” I teased. “You infiltrated and usurped her position?”
“No,” Lena said, laughing. “But I did want to get invited over to Tess’s house to play with the baby, so I basically made it my mission to become her best friend. Turns out, Tess and I also had a lot in common, so we ended up clicking really well outside of my?—”
“Ulterior motives?” I said.
Lena shot me a wry grin. “Tess and Istilllaugh about it. I’m still figuring out a way to work it into my maid of honor speech later this year.”
We headed back outside. I offered her my arm again, and this time she took it without hesitation. “So were you one of those girls who always knew she wanted to be a mom?”
Weirdly, Lena stiffened at that. Her arm tighten around mine, and I glanced over to see her face pinched. “Yes, I guess that’s true,” she said, her voice oddly quiet. Almost strained. “I love kids. Honestly, I always thought I’d have a big family.”
She sounded sad about it, and I couldn’t figure out why. I wasn’t exactly sure what had sparked the shift, but as the silence stretched between us, it was clear that Lena’s mood had taken a dip, and for some reason, I wanted to fix it. I wanted to see her light up the way she had in the toy store, faced with a wall of baby dolls.
“Oh!” I exclaimed, pausing outside a window. “We have to stop here.”
“Hamish’s Pie Shop?” Lena said, reading the door.
“It’s not just pies,” I said, dragging her into the bakery. Immediately, I was overwhelmed by the smell of mince pies and sweet treats that yanked me back in time. Suddenly, I was nine years old again, and Grandad was bringing me here to pick up a sausage roll for my tea. I leaned over, admiring the display case.
“Can I help you, love?” the woman behind the counter said.
“Yeah, can I get a millionaire’s shortbread and a powdered donut, please?”
The woman collected my order, I paid, and I carried a small brown paper bag over to Lena.
“What’s this for?” she asked, staring down at the donut.
I took a bite of my buttery shortbread, layered with caramel that had just the right amount of chew and a chocolate topping, humming in approval. “I know it’s not quite the same as a beignet, but hopefully it’ll be close.”
Lena’s eyes widened in surprise. “I didn’t know you knew I liked beignets.”
I scoffed. “You’ve been my assistant for seven years. Did you really think I didn’t noticeanythingabout you?”
She smirked. “Judging by the way that first marriage proposal went?—”
“I’ll agree that wasn’t my finest moment. And I’ll be making up for it until the moment our marriage is annulled. But, in my defense, I was a little preoccupied digesting the terms of the will. I wasn’t thinking straight.”
“Sure, sure,” she said as we wandered back outside. She took a bite of her donut, licking powdered sugar off her fingers, andI couldn’t help watching the way her tongue darted over her fingertips. “And now that you’re thinking straight, you think you know things about me?”
I shoved aside thoughts I shouldn’t be having and rose to the challenge. “Try me.”
Lena’s lips twitched. “We’ll start with an easy one. What’s my favorite food?”
“Broadly speaking,” I said, thinking back to all the work lunches we’d shared, all the times we’d had takeout delivered as we worked late at the office. “It’s stone-fired pizza. But if we’re talking week-to-week, you get addicted to one thing, eat it until you’re sick of it, and then never buy it again. Before we left Houston, it was that halloumi wrap from the falafel stand down the street from the office. Now, who knows? Maybe I’ll get you addicted to haggis.”
Lena narrowed her eyes at me. “Don’t look so smug. That was an easy one.”
I laughed. “Easy, my arse. You purposely tried to stump me with that one.”
“Okay, onto the next one,” she said, taking another bite of her donut. “What’s my nickname for Milo?”
“Lord Wigglebottom.”
