Page 19 of Reticent

Jordyn peeks her head inside before opening the door all the way. “You have company,” she says, pushing the sleeves of Niko’s sweatshirt up her arms.

I frown. “I didn’t hear the door. Who is it?”

“Hunter? He says you’re expecting him.”

I haven’t heard from him since our brief text last night. I check the pockets of my overalls for my phone to see if I missed a call. I come up empty-handed. Pregnancy brain has me misplacing my phone regularly. “I don’t know where my phone is.”

“I saw it in the kitchen,” Jordyn says.

Figures. Last night, I left it in the kitchen pantry after searching for snacks. “Thanks.” I uncross my legs and stand, which is a whole process. “He actually said I was expecting him?”

“He did. Do you not want to see him?”

“I don’t have a choice.”

I walk over to my bedroom window and look out. There’s an ice-blue Metallic Porsche parked on the curb. It doesn’t exactly fit in with the modest neighborhood.

Jordyn joins me at the window. “Nice car,” she says, but I feel her staring at me.

“Is he in the house?”

“No. I left his ass on the porch.”

I laugh softly. “Thanks.”

I walk down the stairs. Jordyn follows me. I’m acutely aware of how fast my heart is beating as I make my way to the door. Before opening it, I look over my shoulder at Jordyn, who gets comfortable on the couch with her laptop. She’s not even trying to be subtle. Times like this, I wish I had my own place.

With Jordyn at my back, I take a deep breath and open the door.

* * *

Seeing Hunter Demalio in real-time hits differently. The air feels heavy. Seconds feel like minutes. After all this time, after everything that’s happened, his presence still intimidates me. I hate that. He’s just a man—one who once made me feel so high and then so low in a matter of hours.

“What are you doing here?” I ask.

Tropical-blue eyes gaze up from my pregnant belly to my face. “You said you were free today.”

I step out onto the porch, closing the door behind me. “I thought you meant for a phone conversation.”

“I called, but you didn’t answer.”

“And you decide to just show up?”

“Yes,” he says matter-of-factly.

I swallow at his straightforwardness. “I thought you were still in Saint Lucia.”

“I left last night after getting the email.”

“In the future, please don’t show up unannounced.”

“All right.” I can’t tell if he’s being sincere or dismissive. “You’re very pregnant,” he says, his eyes drifting back to my baby bump.

I press my lips together in a tight smile. No shit isn’t an appropriate response. “Not the size two I used to be. The horror.”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean that in a negative way. Seeing you like this, carrying our baby, it’s … beautiful. Incredible.”

My chest warms as his words slide over and through me. “He’s moving. Would you like to feel?”