Page 107 of A King’s Obsession

Because clearly, I controlled time.

"You heading out, Jru?"

I glanced up from shutting down my computer to find Denise, one of the medical assistants, standing beside the counter with her purse over her shoulder.

"Girl, yes. My feet are about to file a complaint with human resources."

She laughed, leaning against the counter as her eyes dropped to my stomach. "How's my little baby doing today?"

"Your little baby been using my bladder as a trampoline since lunchtime."

"That means they're healthy."

"That means they're disrespectful."

Denise threw her head back laughing, and I couldn't help joining her. She'd become one of the few people I genuinely enjoyed talking to since moving to Briarwood. She was in her early forties, married with two children, and had taken it upon herself to give me pregnancy advice whether I asked for it or not.

"Have you thought any more about finding out what you're having?" she asked as I gathered my things.

I shook my head. "Nope. I think I'm gonna wait."

"You're better than me. I needed to know everything."

"See, I already know too much. Every appointment, somebody telling me something new. Don't eat this, don't drink that, sleep on this side, take these vitamins." I slipped my purse over my shoulder. "I'm surprised they ain't told me what direction to face when I sneeze."

Denise laughed again before wishing me a good evening.

Outside, the afternoon breeze felt good against my skin as I made my way across the parking lot. I unlocked my car and slid behind the wheel, tossing my purse onto the passenger seat before settling back against the leather.

One thing I could say about Ezra King was that the man had made sure I had reliable transportation. As much as his ass had gotten on my nerves, I couldn't complain about the car he'd bought me. It was paid for, drove like a dream, and had saved me from having to spend any of my money trying to find something dependable when I moved to Briarwood.

"Can't stand his controlling ass sometimes, but thank God for this car," I mumbled, running my hand across the steering wheel. "At least I got something out the fucking situation."

I chuckled to myself, shaking my head as I pushed the start button. Lord knew that man had put me through enough, but I wasn't about to sit here and pretend I wasn't grateful. Having a paid-off car was one less bill to worry about, especially with a baby on the way.

And considering how much these damn baby strollers cost, I needed every dollar I could keep.

I pulled out of the parking lot, already thinking about what I wanted for dinner. I'd planned on cooking some chicken and rice, but by the time I made it to the next traffic light, my stomach had other ideas.

I wanted hot chips.

And pickles.

Together.

"Don't judge me," I told my stomach, glancing down as I waited for the light to change. "You the one asking for this crazy shit."

A flutter beneath my blouse made me laugh.

"Exactly. That's what I thought."

Instead of heading straight home, I turned toward the grocery store a few blocks away.

Twenty minutes later, I found myself standing in the snack aisle holding a bag of hot chips while debating whether I really needed the second jar of pickles sitting in my basket.

Pregnancy cravings were some strange shit. Last week, I'd wanted nothing but watermelon. Now, apparently, my child had developed a taste for anything that could burn a hole through somebody's stomach lining.

"You're gonna come out here with heartburn and an attitude," I murmured, dropping the chips into my basket.