Chapter 17
Sonograms And Vibrators
I want to fuck my baby daddy.
Okay, there. I said it.
I’d hoped I could chalk that kiss up to a one-time thing, but hours later, it’s still all I can think about. Well, that and the doctor confirming that our baby is healthy and growing perfectly. There’s nothing better than knowing our little peanut is safe and already so deeply loved.
I kept the shop closed today, but Heath had to go to the ranch after our appointment. I was hoping the time alone would help me clear my head, but I was wrong.
He’s a walking thirst trap, especially when he’s wearing gray sweatpants and his glasses.
And I have no idea how I’m supposed to go home tonight and not climb him like a tree.
What I need is a date with Betty, my trusty vibrator, to take the edge off these fantasies of Heath’s calloused hands and his deep voice growling every dirty thing he wants to do to me in my ear.
To distract myself, I drove out to Meadowbrook. I wanted to give Grams and Florence physical copies of the sonogram images—my small attempt at making up for not telling them about the baby sooner.
Before I go inside, I snap a photo of one and send it to the girls.
Backroads & Bad Decisions Group Chat
Charlie sent a photo
Wren: Oh my goodness. It’s adorable! *face holding back tears emoji
Birdie: Since they were conceived at my wedding, that means I get to pick the middle name, right?
Briar: Nope. That honor should go to their favorite aunt.
Birdie: Tough chance of winning that title when I’m the supplier of cute baby animals. *kiss face emoji
Wren: Are you finding out if it’s a boy or girl?
I haven’t asked Heath about it yet, but I kind of like the idea of it being a surprise. It feels fitting given how this whole pregnancy started.
Charlie: We haven’t decided yet.
Briar: We’ll just have to get two of everything until you do.
Briar: We’re hosting a baby shower at the ranch. Mama Julie won’t take no for an answer.
Charlie: Only if Wren can make it.
She hasn’t been back to Bluebell since Lottie was born, and that was almost seven years ago.
Briar: Yes, and bring Lottie!
Birdie: We’ll have a slumber party out in the pasture like old times.
Wren: I wish we could, but Colton’s busy with a big project at work, and I don’t want to add to his stress.
I furrow my brow, wanting to argue, but I think better of it. She’s gone radio silent on us in the past when we’ve tried to make plans for her to visit, and I don’t want to risk that again. She’s built a life in Florida with Colton, and as much as I dislike him, I have to respect her choice.
Charlie: That’s okay! We’ll FaceTime.
Wren: Lottie would love that.
I try to shake off the growing suspicion that there’s more going on with Wren than she’s willing to let on.
When I walk into Meadowbrook, Florence and Grams are in the lobby with a bucket of popcorn.
I go over to Grams and give her a hug. “Hey, Grams.”
She kisses my cheek. “Hi, sweet girl.”
“Hey, old bat,” I say, greeting Florence. “You two hosting a movie night I wasn’t invited to?”
She waves me off. “Shh, my favorite show is on.”
I glance at the TV above the fireplace, frowning at the blank black screen.
Grams taps my shoulder and points down the hall where June is standing in front of Fern’s room, rapping on it sharply with her cane.
“Open up, you backstabbing crow!” June shouts. “You’re not fooling anyone—I know he’s in there.”
I drop onto the armrest of Grams’ chair beside Florence. “Let me guess… Gary?”
Florence holds out her hand, making a grabby motion with her fingers. “You know I don’t give out gossip for free.”
I roll my eyes, rifling through my purse until I find the teardrop-shaped mother-of-pearl pin.
Grams chuckles. “You really should stop encouraging her, Charlie. Her vanity’s about to collapse under the weight of all her trinkets.”
“Nonsense. I can’t possibly have enough shiny things,” Florence counters, casually inspecting the pin by lifting it to the light before fastening it to her blouse. “Although, if you insist on switching it up, a Birkin will do nicely.”
I let out a long breath. “You’re never going to stop obsessing over those bags, are you?”
“Not until I have got my hands on one,” she declares, patting her new pin with satisfaction.
My mind immediately begins spinning through every possible way to make that happen. Unfortunately, there’s almost no chance anyone will ever bring an Hermès bag into a vintage shop in Bluebell, Montana. Even if they did, I could never afford to keep it.
Still, I have a few contacts who handle high-end estate sales in California with access to exclusive handbags.
They’re always up for trading one rare heirloom for another, so it’s worth asking around to see if I can track one down.
I’d love nothing more than to make one of Florence’s dreams come true.
We might trade barbs without mercy, but it’s all in good fun.
I grew up seeing her as a second grandma—one without a filter—and she was the first person Grams called to watch me when she was in a bind.
Florence is family. With no kids of her own, I’ve made a point of including her and bringing her gifts when I visit because they make her happy.
In turn, she’s taught me to hold my ground and never be afraid to speak my mind.
“You going to tell Charlie what’s happening, or am I?” Grams asks, nodding toward the scene unfolding before us.
June’s still outside Fran’s door, now pounding on it with her fist. “Fernie, I swear to god if you don’t open this door, I’m calling your daughter to tell her you’ve been skipping your blood pressure meds.”
Florence crooks her finger, beckoning me closer. “Right. So Gary slept in June’s room last night, but judging by the noise coming from her room, sleep was clearly not on the agenda.”
I grimace. “I don’t like where this is going.”
A devilish smile spreads across her face.
“Gary disappeared before lunch, and Fern was conveniently nowhere to be found. She told everyone she was feeling under the weather. June went to check on her since they’re supposedly friends, and when Fern didn’t answer the door, she called Gary’s phone.
Of course, it rang from Fern’s room. That’s why she’s banging on the door like a madwoman. ”
“Unlucky for them, she’s the only one in this place with her hearing still intact,” Grams chimes in.
We all watch with bated breath as the door slowly opens, revealing Fern wrapped in a robe and a balding, pot-bellied man who can only be Gary standing behind her.
“I was right. You are a two-timing coward,” June spits at him. “I hope you both rot in hell.”
She turns on her heel and storms down the hall, her cane striking the floor in sharp, deliberate taps.
Florence claps, and both Gary and Fern snap their heads toward us, freezing when they realize they’re being watched. “Best soap opera I’ve seen in decades,” she hollers, popping another handful of popcorn into her mouth.
“Five stars,” Grams agrees, giving a thumbs-up.
Fern whips around to Gary, shouting at him as she slams the door shut.
Grams slaps her knee in delight. “Someone is in the doghouse. Good riddance.”
“Thought you didn’t care for gossip or trading secrets,” I say.
She smirks. “Only the interesting kind.”
I open my purse again and take out the ultrasound photo from the inside pocket. “This interesting enough for you?”
“Praise be,” she exclaims, snatching it from my hand. “Look how perfect my great-grandbaby already is.”
Florence squints at the photo as Grams waves it around. “It looks like a stubby potato. I expected better, Charlie—considering that fine specimen of a husband of yours.”
Grams swings her head around to glare at her. “Nonsense. She’s a perfect little miracle.”
“That’s exactly what a grandmother would say,” Florence points out.
I toss my head back laughing. I can’t wait for them to meet the little peanut. Who needs a mom when I have these women who would move heaven and earth for us?
When I get home, it’s nearly sunset. Heath texted an hour ago to say he was finishing up at the ranch and would pick up dinner from Prickly Pear Diner.
It’s a good thing, because my CGM has been slowly dropping all afternoon.
I had a glass of orange juice before I left Meadowbrook, which brought my levels back into range, but I still want to avoid another low tonight.
I turn the corner into the alley and stop short, surprised by the bright motion lights that flicker on as soon as I step forward. Several have been installed along the side of my building, leading all the way to the back door.
On the opposite side of the space, there’s now a covered feeding station complete with a mat, a scratching post, and two small bowls—one filled with water, the other with wet cat food.
Charlie: Did you adopt a cat and not tell me?
Heath: Figured putting the stray’s food out of your pathway would avoid any allergic reactions.
Charlie: You shouldn’t encourage him.
Heath: Please. I know you’ve been feeding him too.
Charlie: Whatever gave you that idea?
Heath: The canned tuna I bought keeps disappearing.
Charlie: That’s odd. You must have a tuna thief.
Heath: Yeah, a stubborn hellcat.
My fingers pause over the screen, biting my lip to hide a smile.
Charlie: Thanks for installing the lights. You really didn’t have to do that.
Heath: Sure I did. Keeping my wife safe isn’t optional.
My stomach flips at his protective tone, sending electric sparks down my spine. I absolutely shouldn’t find his possessive nature so sexy, yet with every kind gesture and thoughtful action, it’s becoming harder to remember why I’m not supposed to fall for him in the first place.
Charlie: I appreciate it, baby daddy.
Heath: Fuck, it’s hot when you call me that.
Charlie: Then maybe I should stop.
Heath: Don’t you dare.
Charlie: We’ll see.
I can’t resist tossing back the same reply he gave me after I rejected his first proposal. I’ve always gotten a thrill from riling him up, but lately it’s become a dangerous game of foreplay.
Charlie: You coming home soon?