Page 46 of Afterglow

Twelve Weeks ~ Baby is the size of a wine cork

You would think growing up in such a beautiful and scenic place I’d be more outdoorsy, but nope, that’s never been me. My idea of exercise takes place in a gym, either on a treadmill or in a Pilates class or something along those lines. Those hiking boots I bought specifically for Jenna’s wedding weekend haven’t seen the outside of my closet since.

Over the past couple of weeks, however, I’ve found the combination of fresh air and movement helps with the fatigue and nausea. So, I’ve been going on walks down Main Street during my lunch hour. Something I told Bryce about, which led to him asking if he could join me today.

My puffer jacket insulates me from the chill while I pace outside the offices of Latitude 45—Bozeman’s only corporate events firm—waiting for a big burly man I want to see more than I care to admit. The breeze against my face reminds me the weather will turn soon. We don’t get enough of fall in Bozeman. Summer never lasts long enough, and then winter comes.

Bryce’s black truck squeezes into a spot along the curb, and I bite my lip to hide a smile. His truck feels like the perfect embodiment of him. It’s large and imposing, dark and sleek, but there’s a comforting warmth to its interior I really like. I shake my head.

What am I even thinking right now?

I’ve never seen Bryce in anything but jeans, but his grey joggers are really doing something for me. As is his Carhartt jacket, layered over a hoodie with the Monarch Ranch brand on it.

“Do you want me to turn around, blondie?” he asks with a wink.

My cheeks flame red-hot against the chilled October air.

“Fuck you,” I huff, placing my hands over my cheeks. They still feel cold but I know they’re flaming.

His rumbly chuckle accompanies a slow perusal of my body, just like the one I gave him. “I mean, we know you love my ass in jeans…” He waggles his eyebrows as he gets within touching distance. “I could let you look at it in these too so you can decide which you like better.”

I shove his shoulder and he uses the momentum to do exactly what he said he would—spinning so his back is to me and lifting his jacket.

Damn…

“You’re an ass,” I say, rolling my eyes to force them away from the nice ass in question.

“Ah, feels like old times,” he quips, turning back around with a smirk. “Shall we walk?”

It does feel like old times, except the abrasive quality of our banter from before is more playful now. Where I used to rage over the way he called me blondie, now I find myself hiding smiles so he doesn’t know how much I’ve grown to like it.

“Yeah, let’s go.” I glance toward the glass wall of the office and catch the eye of Candace, our receptionist, who waves and smiles. I wave back and turn away.

The gossip mill will have circulated the news of me meeting a man for lunch by the time I get back.

“You know,” Bryce says, “if you’d told me you worked in events back when we met, I wouldn’t have believed you.”

I scrunch my nose, my lips twisting in a grimace. “You did not get my finest or most professional behavior.”

“You didn’t get mine either,” he admits, and a quiet apology hangs between us.

We walk shoulder to shoulder down the sidewalk for a few minutes while I get lost in my head. He doesn’t push me to talk, and I allow the words I’m thinking to percolate until they finally bubble over, and I blurt out, “Why are you so nice to me?”

Bryce’s head whips in my direction with a quizzical expression—eyebrows pulled down under a grey beanie he put on while I wasn’t paying attention, lips pressed together. “Would you rather I wasn’t?”

“No. No, it’s just… Never mind.”

“Nah, you can’t ask me a question like that and then not elaborate.”

“I meant, like, I know I’m pregnant so there’s a certain amount of necessity to be nice to me now, but it feels like more than that… I know you said you like me, but why? I was such a bitch to you.”

He contemplates this for a moment, watching me with those penetrating brown eyes. “Neither of us was particularly kind to the other in the beginning. But I think I understand you better now. I think I started to understand you that night in the tent.”

“Really?” I ask with a quirked brow. “How so?”

“Carnally, obviously…” He chuckles, and I shove him so he goes stumbling almost into the street.

“Shut up,” I grumble.