Chapter 17
Savannah
I breathe deeply and try to relax as Hudson takes my vitals.
“So, the bakery is a roaring success. You must be happy?” He makes small talk as he types a few things into my file.
“Well, I’ve been open for over a week now, and the interest hasn’t died down.
Every night, I make more and more products, but every day, I continually sell out.
It’s better than I ever could have imagined.
” I can’t help the grin. I’m proud. Exhausted, but proud.
But I would be lying if I said I didn’t feel a little hollow.
I haven’t seen Griffin since opening day.
The night he texted and said he was coming over yet canceled instead.
I feel a little lost without him. He’s been the most constant person in my life for weeks.
A new friend. A man to lean on when I needed it.
It was nice to have him close by. And I’m scared to admit it, but I miss him when he’s gone.
We went from sleeping next to each other and sharing secrets one night, to not seeing each other all week.
He’s sent a few text messages. Short, simple ones to check how I’m doing. But never anything that prompts conversation. Never anything that extends to talking on the phone like we had before.
“So, your due date is next week. Going over is not uncommon, but we don't want you going over for much longer than about a week or so.”
Only I would open a new business so close to my due date.
But I knew the chances of me opening after the baby was here would be harder, so I’ve pushed myself to this point.
I needed to make it work. I needed the income; I needed to show my family and anyone else who ever doubted me that I could provide for my baby.
And I have. I’m stressed, I’m not going to lie.
It’s either going to be the best thing I’ve ever done or the most foolish decision I’ve made.
But deep in my bones, I know it was the right one.
“Oh, I feel this little one is tucked so tight that coming out is the last thing they want,” I say with a laugh, trying to make light, but I’m secretly terrified. Labor, the pain, doing it all on my own. It’s a lot.
“You could go into labor any day now, so take it easy.” He pauses for a moment, then asks, “What do you plan to do when the baby arrives?”
“I’m hoping the baby will be a good sleeper, allowing me to still bake every morning and then serve throughout the day. But I have Melissa, who’s been helping me. I know I sound naive, but I have no other options.” I need to make it work.
“Well, good. But you also need to be mindful that carrying a baby for nine months and then delivering the baby will have some impact on you and your body. We all think we’re invincible, me included, so please make sure you get adequate rest, take your vitamins, drink water…
” He gives me a look of warning, and I offer a small nod in understanding.
“I am. I will. I plan to rest when the baby arrives. I’ll probably close the bakery for a little while until I get the hang of things.
The girls have all said they can help. Victoria is first on the list for babysitting duties.
“ I grin, thinking about my new friends who have all been checking in on me.
“You have Lacy and me too, of course. That’s the great thing about Whispers; there’s a lot of helping hands. But… your bump still hasn’t dropped like I would expect it to, so you might still have some time.” The furrow to his brow isn’t reassuring.
“Should I be doing anything?”
“Resting.” Hudson is firm with that quick answer, and my lips thin.
“Aside from resting. Anything to help get the baby into position?”
“Movement can work. Walking, swimming…”
“Dancing?” I do love to dance. I haven’t in a while because I’m so front loaded in weight.
Plus, I’m not exactly a ballerina at the best of times.
I trip over my own feet more times than not.
But having music on and moving around the bakery is one of my favorite things to do. I just haven’t done it in a while.
“Sure. I don’t recommend anything too frantic, but yes, dancing would work. Some old wives' tales also suggest things like eating spicy food or even sex can help put things into motion.”
Sex. I blink wordlessly at him as I feel my cheeks heat. My mind moves to one man and one man only. The one who isn’t here.
“Oh, well, I’m sure I can make a curry or something.” God, why am I flushed. “And I do love dancing to a bit of Whitney Houston in the kitchen.” I’m rambling now. But Hudson is a professional as he finalizes my notes.
“Okay, well, dance, spicy foods, rest. See how you feel over the next day or two. Call me any time of the day or night, the minute you start to feel some movement or pain.”
“I will.” I wring my hands together. My stress is high, anxiety crawling around my body like it’s considering taking up permanent residence. Even though I know this baby has to come out, it’s the coming out part I’m not looking forward to.
As I make my way from Hudson’s office back to the bakery, I grab my phone, seeing the screen blank. No word from Griffin today. I have no idea how long he’s away for, but my heart feels a little heavy from missing him. I hate the distance. Before I second-guess myself, I shoot him a text.
Checkup with Hudson all done. I need to try to find some spices in Whispers to cook with. Apparently spicy food will help get the baby into position.
I see some bubbles dance on my screen from his reply, and I hold my breath.
Only five percent of babies are born by their due date…
I frown. How does he know that?
Really?
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.
“Okay, well… Don’t work too hard.” It’s all I can think to say that will prevent me from asking him to come back to Whispers. Back to me.
“Take care, sweetness.” The call ends as quickly as it started, and I sigh, look around my kitchen, and decide to make some dough in case I stumble across some spices. If I can’t, I’ll make cherry puffs instead.
Four hours later, among the batches and batches of dough and pastry, there’s a knock at the back door.
“Delivery!” a man yells, and I frown, not expecting anything.
“One minute.” I wipe my hands and peek out the window. Sure enough, a delivery driver stands there, carrying a box.
“Hi,” I greet him, opening the door. “Just on the counter, please.”
He notices my bump and nods and walks inside, putting the box down for me and handing me a tablet to sign.
“Where’s this from?” I ask him.
“India Imports. Urgent delivery.”
My eyebrows rise as I pass the tablet back to him. “India Imports?”
“A bulk importer of spices and items from India. They organized a private flight here today for this. Must be pretty urgent, miss. Enjoy your evening.” He gives me a wave and walks out, and I stand at the door, watching him leave.
He was right. The smell hits me immediately as I open the box. Large jars of fresh spices—turmeric, curry, chili, cumin, even saffron, which gives me pause, because it’s the most expensive spice in the world.
My heart races as I pull out the paperwork, a small note included.
Found the spices for you. Griff x
“Oh…” I think I’m in shock. There’d be no way I could find this quality of spice here in Whispers or even in Williamstown.
At best, I could probably find a small shaker that’s been sitting on the shelf for months.
This spice from Griffin is top quality, directly imported and probably the freshest you could get outside of India.
I plop on the stool near the counter and take a minute to gather myself. The man is on the other side of the country, building mansions and ranches, yet he still downloaded a baby app, found authentic spices, and sent them to me within hours.
I have no idea who Griffin is, exactly. I don’t know his past. But I do know he’s an amazing man. One I’m grateful to have in my life.
I have Whitney blaring on the speakers throughout my kitchen as I pull out the last tray of curry puffs from the oven.
While I could make a curry or some type of laksa, the baker in me loves these pastry spice mixes and the town is loving them too.
I’ve made them all week, ever since the spice delivery turned up.
So I now have fresh curry puffs, savory vegetable pies, and spiced muffins all cooling on the counter, ready to go for tomorrow.
Minus a few here and there that I gobbled as I danced.
None of it has helped, though. I have no pains, the baby is still firmly intact, my belly position remains high right under my ribs, yet I’ve swayed, twerked and salsa’d my way around this small space for days since my checkup with Hudson.
No amount of spices or dancing is helping; this baby is holed up tight.
“Ohhh, I wanna dance with somebody…” I sing at the top of my lungs and shimmy across the floor to ensure the fridge is shut properly.
“I wanna feel the heat with somebody…” I shimmy back, holding my bump, moving my hips from side to side as best I can.
“Yeah, I wanna da—” The words die on my lips as I turn and spot someone standing in my doorway, watching me. Eyes wide, expression unreadable. I turn down the music, my cheeks flaming under his burning gaze. “You’re back?”
I swallow hard as he remains silent. His eyes trail down my body and back up again. Like he’s ensuring I’m in one piece.
“Griffin?”
He still hasn’t moved. Hasn’t said a word. His eyes burn into mine. His hair is a little scruffy, like he’s been pulling at it, his eyes a little dark like he hasn’t slept much.
“This is your warning…”
“Warning?” I frown, confused.
“I’m going to put my hands on you.” His voice is a growl as he strides forward, his gaze not leaving me as my eyes widen in understanding and my stomach flips.
“Oh,” I whisper as this man stalks toward me.
“You alright?” His hand slides around my waist, settling at my lower back.
“Ahhh, yeah…” My mouth is dry as I look up at him, his eyes, then his lips, feeling a pull to get closer. What’s happening right now?
“The baby?” he asks gruffly, yet there’s a tenderness there that he only has with me.
I swallow, my heart thudding as his other hand sweeps over my jaw and cups my face.
“Fine.” I can barely talk as he holds me tight. My hands now rest on his chest. It feels so nice to be held in his arms.
“Good. Come here.” He tilts my head and lowers his, and before I know what’s happening, his lips are on mine, and I swear I see stars.