Page 224 of The Virgin Romance Novelist Chronicles
That wasn’t an option. Rosie needed to be my wife as soon as possible. I wanted her tied to my last name.
“No, would you want to wait that long to get married to Delaney?”
“Hell no. I can’t believe I’ve waited this long to tie her down. Then again, she was more of a wild one in college. I had to tame her first, and I’ve barely done that.”
Delaney definitely needed taming. I remember when I first met her in college; I couldn’t understand how she and Rosie were such good friends. Rosie was soft spoken and Delaney didn’t care what flew out of her mouth. Derk had a real hard time trying to get her to settle. If he had proposed to her right off the bat, there was no doubt in my mind he would have freaked her out, and she would have sent him packing.
Rosie was the opposite. She was a lover, a believer in commitment, in the happily ever after. She believed in soulmates. God, I hoped she still believed I was hers.
“I don’t know what to do. If I propose, she’ll think it’s my way of making up to her, not something meaningful. Before she left, she said actions are more important than words. Proposing is an action, but I want it to be an action that is remembered for the love I have for that woman, not for making up after a fight.”
“Man, you’re in a real pickle.”
“Helpful,” I replied, sarcastically. “You don’t have any words of wisdom?”
Silence stretched across the line while Derk thought. “I would have sniffed the underwear.”
“You’re the absolute fucking worst right now.”
He chuckled and then said, “Listen, let me feel her out tomorrow, and I’ll report back. Take tonight to think of some plans. We’ll convene later.”
“Okay.” I paused for a second, not wanting to get all girly on Derk, but nervous about my future. “Do you think Rosie and I are done? She left me, Derk.”
“That she did,” Derk said. “But Rosie is also dramatic, and I think she wants a dramatic response. Think big, think books. You will always be chasing after the happily ever after with her.”
Didn’t I fucking know it.
Chapter Forty
Fraggle Rock
ROSIE
The harmonious sounds of Delaney making friends with her toilet echoed through the room as the sun shone upon me. Delaney’s couch was less than comfortable and definitely didn’t have the best smell either, which I tried to avoid wondering what from. I missed the warmth of Henry’s arms, the comfort of our bed, and the silence of an early morning.
Delaney’s retching wasn’t doing it for me. It wasn’t doing it for me so much that I got the sweats myself, and before I knew it, I was trotting over to the kitchen trash can, expunging all the wiener bites I had last night.
Wasn’t morning sickness supposed to happen within the first few weeks of being pregnant? I had no clue how far along I was, but if I had to guess, it would be three months, and I was cruising right along into my second trimester. I was too overwhelmed at the doctor’s office to even think about asking how far along I was or what I needed to be doing to take care of the baby.
I couldn’t deny this forever, though, so I made a mental note to call the doctor this week, apologize for sticking his head between my legs, and try to figure all this baby stuff out.
Just thinking about the baby made my mind wander. Would I be doing this alone? Last night was awful. I wasn’t sexy; I knew I wasn’t. I didn’t have a passionate desire for Henry to sniff my underwear . . . I was just trying to see if we could spice things up. Then once he denied sniffing, I wondered if there was something so wrong with me that he didn’t want to bring my panties to his nose. If he asked me to sniff his boxers . . .
Nope.
My head went back into the trash can and I dry-heaved a couple times before my stomach settled.
I couldn’t blame the man. Fabric crotches should be kept to one’s self, not shared with significant others, no matter how erotic it sounded.
But . . . he hadn’t wantedme.
Why?
He told me he loved me, he held me at his boss’s party, and he made sweet gestures like my maid-of-honor penis badge. Why was he pulling away? And then it hit me.
OH.
MY.
