Page 31 of Falling Together

Now that I know what I can and can’t eat, that takes some pressure off. Figuring out how to tell him is still worrying me. I want to be somewhat delicate and not blurt it out.

“Hey, Georgia. Are you waiting for someone?” Amy asks, coming over with a glass of ice water.

“I am.”

“Ohh, hot date?” She waggles her eyebrows at me.

“Something like that,” I mutter. “Can I get a lemonade?”

“Sure thing. I’ll be right back.”

My eyes flit around the restaurant. It’s not too busy tonight. Hopefully that means there won’t be many prying eyes. Or open ears. I’m sure it will be all over town within a week, but I at least want some time to adjust to my new normal.

Glancing outside, I see Grant pacing in front of the door.

Is he as nervous as I am?

Sorry to break it to you, bud, but your night isn’t going to end how you want.

I watch as he finally opens the door and comes inside. His gaze surveys the restaurant—no doubt taking in the old tables and fake pleather booths. It hasn’t been updated in a long time, but the Pinecrest Pancake Emporium doesn’t need it.

The pancakes speak for themselves.

A smile lights up his face when he sees me and walks over.

“Hey, Georgia.”

“Hey, Grant.”

I stand and he gives me a kiss on the cheek. Nope. Not going to think about how good his lips feel. That’s not why we’re here tonight.

“You look nice,” he says.

“Thanks.”

Now that Grant is here, I’m so nervous, I could puke. At least the one thing I haven’t had to deal with is morning sickness. Sure, the occasional wave of sickness every now and then, but not daily.

“I’m glad you asked me out.”

I rub my hands over the skirt of my dress. “There might have been another reason why I did.”

He gives me a smile that I have to do everything to ignore. I don’t need to get swept up in how sexy this man is. No, I need to stay focused on the task at hand. Like the fact that I’m pregnant and this man is the dad.

“Are you the official welcoming committee then for Pinecrest? Because if so, I like it.”

“I’m pregnant,” I blurt out.

Shit. So much for not blurting it out.

“You’re what?” He looks stunned.

“Hey, are you Georgia’s date?” Amy comes back, dropping off my drink and addressing Grant.

“Uh, yeah.” He clears his throat. “Can I get a Coke, please?”

“Sure thing, handsome.” Amy winks at him before walking back into the kitchen.

I stab at my straw, pulling it out of the wrapper and taking a large sip of the tart and sweet drink. It helps to settle my raging nerves.