Jessa forgoes the healthy snacks I put on the table and opts for the toffee she pulls from her pocket instead. She slides a few pieces across the table to me. “Anyway, how’s your morning sickness? Any better?” she asks as she opens the noisy candy wrapper.
“Not that bad. I know others have it way worse,” I muse. “But the nausea still hits me throughout the day. Usually in the evenings, actually.”
“And the boobs are here to stay, I see,” Jessa quips, pointing her drink toward my chest.
“Hey now,” I crack up. “Leave my ginormous, painful boobs out of this.”
“Well, they look amazing, if that’s any consolation.” She chuckles.
“Enough about me.” I snatch up a piece of her candy. “I hear it’s busy at the guest house this week?”
She groans. “God yes. The place is booked for back-to-back weddings. I’ve had to work extra hard to keep Callie out from under everyone’s feet.” She pauses, setting her glass on the surface next to her. “But I want to hear about you. I hear it’s busy at Walker’s house this week,” she adds suggestively and wiggles her eyebrows just to be extra corny.
“Good lord. Do I even want to know what you’ve heard?”
“Oh my gosh. Mrs. Kingston has been talking about you nonstop. She’s downright giddy about you two shacking up.”
I just grunt in response.
“So, tell me, how's it going living with Walker?” She leans forward eagerly. She’s just as bad as Diana, expecting some completely unrealistic outcome.
“It’s…fine. We both spend most of our time working, so we rarely even see each other. Besides, it’s just temporary until I can find a new place.”
“But do you share a bed?” Jessa questions, her voice low and gossipy.
“No. It’s not like that. He sleeps on the couch.”
“Lame.” She pretends to snore. “I’ve seen the way that man looks at you. He’s low-key fantasizing about cuddling up in bed, hand-feeding you pickles and bacon-wrapped chocolate before merrily rubbing your swollen feet until you fall asleep. Make a move on the man. Put him out of his misery.”
I’ll admit that I like that image but I roll my eyes at the crazy girl. Jessa will always be the hopeless romantic, no matter how off base she is. “Walker and I are just friends.” There’s a sad note to my voice.
She must hear it, because her tone goes serious for once. “Penn, you love the guy. Put yourself out there. Take a shot. Talk to him. You never know how it might turn out.”
Now, I’m feeling all defensive. If I were honest with myself, I’d admit that the reason I’m triggered by my friend’s words is because my internal voice has been saying the same damn thing to me.
I puff out a breath and then I start blabbering. “Y’know, it's real easy to say that I should just sit him down and have a mature conversation with him about this. But this guy is my best freaking friend and I'm terrified to make myself vulnerable to him. He never agreed to fatherhood. I don’t want to spill my heart out to him and leave him feeling trapped into being with me out of obligation—which is totally something he’d do because he thinks it’s his job to be my personal Superman. Or what if he does the opposite? What if he pulls back from me and completely cuts off our friendship? I wouldn't be able to survive that.”
Just thinking about it has made me a panicked mess. I don't know how to function in this world with out Walker on my team.
Jessa opens her mouth to argue—no doubt—but before she can speak, there’s another knock on the back door. A much louder knock.
“Hi ladies,” Walker’s deep voice vibrates through me.
My head snaps around. Shit. I hope he didn’t hear our conversation.
His eyes move slowly between Jessa and me as he peels off his cowboy hat. “I’ve got to get back out there, but I thought you might be ready for an early lunch, Penn. I’ll just leave this with you.”
He walks over to where I’m sitting, plopping a large, cloth sack into my lap. Before I can speak, he leans down and presses his lips to the top of my head. He lingers in my bubble and our eyes hold until my chest feels like it will burst unless I glance away.
Jessa silently watches the whole thing, with I-told-you-so in her eyes. Then Walker’s gone, slipping his hat on and disappearing back out the door, headed for the barn.
The nosy girl peers into my bag and pulls out a serving of Diana’s famous pasta salad, an entire six-pack of ginger ale, a sleeve of saltines, fruit…and yet another jar of pickles.
My cheeks flush with heat. I reluctantly meet Jessa’s stare. Her eyes dance with glee. “Just friends, huh?” she asks with a smirk. Grabbing her purse, she stands and begins backing away toward the door. “Your baby daddy seems to be ready for something more, if you ask me.”
I groan and shoo her out of the kitchen then turn back toward the ironing board. “Well, I didn’t ask you.” I scrunch my nose at her. “So, take your ridiculous thoughts with you. I’ve got work to do.”
I hear her laughter echoing as she tromps off through the fields.
36
Walker
It’s Sunday mid-afternoon, but instead of working on my normal weekend farm chores, I’m on kid duty. Not that I mind. Every month or so, I get to spend the day with my niece, and it’s always a nice change of pace.
Callie hones in on the sheet of construction paper on the dining table in front of her with the focus of a bomb squad agent trying to dismantle a nuclear weapon. With slow, careful movements, she trails her crayon across the sheet, forming the letters of her first name.
When she’s satisfied with her work, she turns and looks at me with the brightest, biggest most hopeful smile. She’s now missing one of her tiny bottom teeth,
