Page 42 of Griffin
That’s what the app is telling me.
App? What does he mean?
App?
I push through the door back to my safe haven of Betty’s Bakery, going straight into the kitchen to see what I have for spices, which I already know is nonexistent. Sugar, yes. Yeast, also yes. Turmeric or cardamom? No. Definitely not.
I downloaded a baby app. It tells me what you're feeling and what the baby is up to.
My heart stutters as I look at my phone. Then I dial before my brain can catch up to the action.
I talk before he can.
“You downloaded an app?” I’m in shock. I don’t even have an app.
“I did,” his deep voice rumbles. Safe. Steady. Strong.
“But when? Why?” My words rush out, feeling a little flustered.
“Well, I don’t know much about babies, so I’m trying to educate myself. After seeing your book on your nightstand, I thought an app might help me understand a little more.”
It’s a really nice thing to do, actually. Just not something I ever imagined a man like Griffin to do.
“Okay… what else does it say?” I take a seat on the small stool at my new stainless-steel counter.
“Says the baby is now mostly fully developed and gaining weight.”
I huff a laugh. “Oh, I feel that,” I tell him, rubbing my bump, feeling the size of a house myself.
“It also says the baby’s reflexes are ready to go, so it can suck and grasp and things.”
“Kick. Push against my diaphragm like it's a competitive sport,” I whine. I don’t whine often, but at nine months pregnant, I feel like I’m allowed to whine a little.
“What did Hudson say?”
I smile. This is nice. Talking about it with someone. Someone who cares.
“Just that I need to eat spicy food. Apparently, it’ll help the baby move into position. But I have nothing here at the bakery. I thought I could make some curry puffs or savory muffins, but I have no turmeric or cumin or anything. I don’t even think the local grocery store here in Whispers will have anything. And I don’t want to go to Williamstown. I never want to go back there.” I shiver, feeling the need to stay away from the town I grew up in.
“Hmmm, pineapple juice can also help,” Griffin offers, and I grin.
“Is that on the app too?” I tease.
“No, I’m researching online.”
I feel warm all over, basking in his attention.
“Where are you?” I’m tentative. I never want him to think I’m tracking him. I have no claim over him, even if I do feel some simmering tension building between us. He’s busy with work, and I’m busy with the bakery and cooking a human. But we have a connection, that much is clear.
“Just landed in Sundown Valley. I was in Colorado the last few days checking over my build.”
“Are you okay?” My heart skips a beat. But his message and quick getaway out of town last week seemed sudden.
“I need to be asking you that.”
“I’m fine. We’re fine.”
“Good. Not sure when I’ll be back…” Disappointment fills me.
