Twenty-One.
Maci
“Butch is pushing hard for a rugged, manly name for the baby.” Cassidy sighs, sipping her peppermint mocha while leaning against the display at Cup O’ Joe. “Ever since we found out it’s a boy, he’s been coming up with these insane names. I don’t know where he comes up with this stuff.”
I raise a brow. “Like what?”
I’ve been having a hard time myself picking a suitable name for my daughter—well, I’ve had one picked out since I was sixteen, but I’m not sure if it’s still a good pick for my baby girl. And at twenty-six weeks today—a whopping six and a half months pregnant—I’d like to settle on a name before I buy any baby décor for the cabin.
I signed a year lease at the start of the new year, and with it being the end of March, I’ve still got another nine months in my lease. Regardless of how many times Duke wants to say it’s not a big deal to break the lease and move into the new house with him, it’s a big deal to me when I’d be losing my security deposit and last month’s rent.
He’s been fighting me at every angle, but I don’t feel comfortable with the idea of living in a house that’s his. I mean, I love him—more than I’ve ever loved anyone. But I fear these last four months, I’ve been relying on him too much.
Centering myself, my day, my life—everything—around building a future with him. All I have is invested in us—something I swore I’d never let myself do again. Yet here I am, doing it again. And I’d be in a very vulnerable position if I were to move in before we know what kind of relationship we’ll have once the baby arrives.
What happens if it all goes south? My daughter and I will be homeless, scrambling to find a place to go. I can’t let that happen—not now, not ever.
Duke…loves me, I think. He hasn’t said it, even though I’ve told him every day since Valentine’s Day. He tells me he feels the same way about me, that he’s just having a hard time finding the words.
Well, he didn’t have a hard time finding the right words to convince me to give us a chance. Or making me fall madly in love with him. What if he’s just telling me what I want to hear?
The thought alone makes my stomach ache.
“Buck, Gage, Bruce, Bruno… Blaze,” Cassidy says.
Alison booms with laughter. “Blaze? No, he did not.”
I smile. “I like Gage.”
“That’s the only one I told him I liked,” Cassidy admits. “We did settle on the middle name, though. It’s going to be Anthony, after my father.”
“Gage Anthony Montgomery,” Alison tests. “It has a nice ring to it.”
“What was the boy name you had picked out, Maci?” Cassidy asks me.
“I didn’t have one, but I always liked Mason.”
“Have you picked any girl names yet?” Alison asks curiously. “Any ideas?”
I shrug.
“Oh, come on,” Cassidy whines. “I know you’ve got ideas. I’ve always loved the name Renee. Butch even said he liked it if we ever have a girl.”
“That’s nice,” I say, my phone dinging with a text on the side counter.
Duke: What time do you get out of work?
Me: Half an hour.
Duke: I’m at the house. Rhett brought over some paint samples. You mind swinging by on your way home to take a look?
I frown at the screen. He thinks he’s being slick, but I know what he’s doing.
Me: I have to stop at the pharmacy to pick up more prenatal vitamins, then I can swing by if you want.
Duke: I’ll see ya in a bit. Drive safe.
“Oh, boy. I know that look.” Cassidy laughs. “What’d Duke do now?”
I sigh. “Nothing, he just… He won’t stop with this whole ‘move into the new house with me’ thing. And honestly…he’s starting to get a little aggressive about it.”
Alison’s brow furrows. “Aggressive, really?”
“That’s not like Duke,” Cassidy says in concern.
“I know.” My frown only deepens. “He doesn’t understand why I think it’s too soon.”
“But you live together now?” Alison reasons. “Why can’t you just move to the new house together? I thought everything was going well.”
“It is. It’s just… What if it flops after the baby comes?” I throw my hands in the air in dismay. “Babies bring a lot of new things to the table: stress, sleepless nights, financial aspects, schedule rearranging. Not to mention the strain it can put on a relationship.”
“Have you talked to Duke about all this?” Cassidy asks.
“Of course, we have. All he says is, ‘We’re rock solid, baby, don’t worry about it,’” I say in my best Duke impression. Alison and Cassidy laugh. “But I am worried. Our relationship has been amazing so far. I don’t want to break my lease, move in with him, have the baby, bring her home, then everything changes, and we break up. And where will I be? Rushing to find a place to go with a newborn at the last minute.”
“Duke would never kick you and the baby out, Maci,” Cass says sternly.
“I know. That’s the problem. What if he ends up miserable, but won’t dump me because he wouldn’t want to put us out? I mean, I hate to say it, I really, really do, but…”
“It’s not his baby,” Alison says, and I cringe.
“Alison,” Cassidy gasps.
I blow out a shaky breath. “No, she’s right, it’s not. My daughter isn’t his responsibility, no matter how he sees it. It’d be irresponsible of me to expect Duke to keep us around out of the goodness of his heart for god knows how long until I was to find another place to live. I can’t do that to him—to me. The cabin is a good space for now. It’ll work until the end of my lease, then I’ll find something bigger after that. Or, if we make it through the rough stuff in the beginning with the baby, maybe I’ll move in with him… I don’t know.”
Cassidy puts her hands up as if to stop my mind from spiraling any deeper—too late. “This whole conversation is meaningless because you and Duke aren’t breaking up. Ever. Duke loves you too much to let your relationship flop, Maci, seriously. This baby is his in his heart, and that’s all that matters.”
“He hasn’t even said it back, Cass,” I say, grabbing up my purse and sweater. I punch out for the day and walk around the counter. “I have to go. I’ll see you guys later.”
“Maci,” she calls out to me, and I can hear the upset in her voice—but it’s the truth.
I have to be smart about this. I can’t put myself in the kind of place I was last year with Evan. Relying on him as my only form of support—emotionally, mentally, physically. The only thing I had control of was that I could support myself financially, and here, I can do that—by not moving into his house right away.
I need to do this on my own as best I can to preserve our relationship.
A while later I’m turning onto the long drive at Duke’s property. The house looks great. Hunter green siding, brown roofing, stunning natural wood framed windows, and the gorgeous mahogany front door to match the covered wood beam wraparound porch.
It’s grown into a rustic mountain lodge home with views to die for.
I bite my lip at the sight of a very large box perched in the back of Duke’s truck.
It’s the crib I ordered last week. “Shit.”
The second I park the bay door to the garage opens, and the look on Duke’s face says it all.
I get out and go to him. His towering frame imposing with his arms crossed over his chest and a heated scowl on his face. I peer around him at the open hood of the Chevelle and the engine sitting on a mount beside it.
“Did you finally get the rebuild kit in?” I ask, innocent as can be.
“The crib you ordered came today,” he growls. I guess we’re getting right into it then. “When were you going to tell me you started ordering stuff? And why was it delivered to the cabin and not here?”
“I found a crib I liked, and it was on sale, so I bought it,” I say with a casual shrug.
His scowl doesn’t waver at my ‘it was on sale’ reasoning. “Why didn’t you tell me? I would’ve given you my card to charge it and had it shipped to the right damn place.”
Now he wants to pay for the baby’s stuff, too?
I scoff. “The right place? Really, Duke? We’ve talked about this. I’m—”
“No, Maci,” he bites out. “You’ve rambled on and on with excuses for why you don’t want to move into the house for two months. That’s been the extent of the conversation.”
“Excuses? Me thinking it’s too soon to be moving into the house is not an excuse.”
“Yeah, it fucking is,” he snaps, gesturing to the cabin down the road. “We already live together. Why wouldn’t we continue doing just that?”
“Because Duke—” I throw my hands in the air in frustration. “—I don’t know if we can make it after the baby comes. Do you have any idea the percentage of relationships that end after the birth of a child? It’s high, honey, really high.”
His nostrils flare in anger. “You don’t believe that would happen to us for a second, because it won’t.”
I shake my head. “You don’t get it.”
“Give me one good reason why we shouldn’t move forward with everything we have to the new house,” he demands. “We’re together. We love each other. What’s the problem?”
“Do you love me? Because I haven’t heard you say it yet,” I bite back, and regret hits me before I can stop myself. Too far…
His jaw clenches. “That’s not fair, Maci, and you know it.”
Tears sting my eyes, and I turn away. Why am I doing this to myself?I’m fighting him when all he wants is for us to be together.
“Angel.” He sighs, reaching for me. I cover my face as I start to cry, and he holds me to his chest, rubbing my back soothingly. “You know how I feel about you.”
I nod against him. “I-I know. I’m sorry.”
“What’s this really about?” he asks gently.
I bury my face into his chest.
Duke kisses the top of my head. “I get it. You don’t want to have to rely on me when the baby comes if something were to happen between us.” I peer up at him. “I get it, babe, I do. But that doesn’t apply to us, all right? We’re solid. More solid than anything I’ve ever had in my life. And if keeping the lease on the cabin as a backup plan is this important to you, then… Fuck it. We’ll keep the cabin. The house isn’t even close to ready to move in, the paint alone is going to take a week or more to air out before I want you in there.”
I sniffle. “Do you mean that?”
“Yes,” he says, brushing my hair out of my face. “But you’ve gotta promise me you’ll give the house a chance. Stay here a few nights during the week and get a feel for the place. And we sleep together every night, no matter where it is. The cabin, here, wherever you want.”
This man… “I love you.”
He grins and leans down to kiss me. “And the crib is staying here.”
I pout. “Duke.”
“No, seriously, the crib has to stay here. I measured the bedroom at the cabin, and unless you want to put the baby in the living room by the fireplace, it ain’t happening.”
I scrunch my nose. “Are you sure? I thought if I pushed the bed up against the wall, I could fit the crib next to it.”
He grumbles under his breath, and I fight down a smirk. “We’ll see. Did you buy anything else?”
“A mattress for the crib, but that’s it.”
“All right, well, we should probably start a list, figure out everything we need, and keep me in the loop when you’re buying things. But for now, if you don’t mind, I’d like it if you could pick out a few paint colors for the house.”
We’re quick to agree on a majority of the paint samples—well, more like Duke asks me what I like, then just agrees with me. Same as he’s done with everything else with his house.
And I do mean everything.
I point to a hideous brown for the upstairs master bathroom as a test. “I like this one.”
Duke scoffs. “No, you don’t.”
“I do, too,” I say stubbornly.
He narrows his eyes at me, keeping my gaze as he points to a beautiful rumba orange that I love. “You like this one.” His tone stern, knowing—because he’s right. I do.
“You can’t just keep going with everything I pick, Duke,” I huff. “Tell me which one you like. This is your house.”
To my surprise, he looks irritated by my comment.
His jaw tightens. “This’ll be our house. The sooner you accept that, the better. And I’d rather not have to repaint when you finally realize you don’t like something I chose. Besides, I like everything you’ve already chosen, so it’s a win-win.”
I try to be annoyed, but I can’t wipe this stupid smile off my face. “Fine.” I point to the rumba orange. “This one.”
He chuckles, pulling down the other paint samples and marking down ‘master bath’ on the orange. I follow him out through the master bedroom and across the hall to one of the spare rooms where there are easily over a hundred different paint samples taped up—all girly pinks and purples and a few neutral tones.
Tears threaten at the very sight.
Duke turns to me with a grin. “Like I said, I don’t want to have to repaint.”
Why does he have to make it so hard to be mad at him for longer than five minutes?
He’s too good to be true.
He chuckles when I start to cry. “These pregnancy hormones are really gettin’ to you today, aren’t they?”
I stifle a laugh, dabbing my eyes. “You have no idea.”
“And that marks the end of today’s class,” the instructor of the birthing class announces. “Thank you everyone for coming, and I wish you all a smooth delivery ending in a healthy mommy and baby.”
Sitting between Duke’s legs on a yoga mat, I lean into him, sighing as he wraps his arms around me from behind. He rubs my seven-and-a-half-month bump. “Thirty weeks down, ten more to go,” he whispers, kissing my temple.
Cassidy groans, rolling on her side. “Butch,” she whines. “Help me.”
He chuckles, helping her to her swollen feet. “Ready to go eat, Sunshine?”
She glares at her fiancé. “That’s all I ever do is eat. Your damn son is turning me into a garbage disposal. I’m already bigger than Maci by a long shot.”
“You’re not that big, Cass,” I say.
“The hell I’m not,” she retorts. “I’m measuring four weeks ahead, Maci. Four. That’s a whole month ahead of you. And you’re like what, measuring a little behind?”
“Dr. Sanderson thinks she’s going to be a tiny baby,” I say, placing my hands over Duke’s as little kicks and punches bump his hands. She loves it when he rubs my belly.
Cassidy scoffs, glaring at Butch. “I’m going to birth a linebacker because of you.”
Butch grins smugly, wrapping his arms around her. “He’s a healthy, happy boy growing inside of you, sweetheart. You can’t be mad about that.”
My stomach tightens painfully. I wince. The feeling is foreign, somewhere between an intense cramp and an ache. My entire body tenses as I suck in a sharp breath.
Duke’s hands freeze on my belly, feeling how tense I’ve gotten. “Hey, you okay, doll?”
I nod, blowing out the breath long and slow. “Just a cramp,” I say, glancing over my shoulder at him. “Can you help me up?”
He gets up and comes around to my front, helping me to my feet. He watches me closely as I hold a hand under my belly with a scrunch of my face at the uncomfortable, cramping pain.
“What is it?” he asks. “What’s wrong?”
I shake my head, not having the words to explain it.
“Ah, I see we’re having some Braxton Hicks over here,” the instructor sing-songs. “How far along are you, hon?”
“Thirty weeks,” I reply, blowing out a tense breath.
“You’re having false labor. Right now?” Cassidy squeals, rushing over to me in a quick waddle.
“False?” Butch questions in alarm. “What is false about it?”
“Before true labor begins, women can experience what we call false labor or Braxton Hicks,” the instructor states. “These contractions vary based on the mother. Some experience light cramping, others can be more intense, simulating labor contractions. All good signs that your body is prepping.”
“Does it hurt?” Cassidy asks, poking my stomach. “You’re so tense.”
I swat her hand away. “It doesn’t feel good if that’s what you’re asking.”
“Remember the breathing we worked on today. Controlled breaths can be very helpful, regardless of the level of discomfort,” the instructor tells me before excusing herself to where the next class is arriving.
Duke takes my free hand, looking me over in concern.
“I’m okay,” I say, the tension in my body finally releasing. Thank god. That was getting a little much.
His brow furrows, not believing me. “Are you sure? We can head home if you want. Baby shopping can wait.”
“Are you kidding, honey?” I snort. “If anything, she just told us we better get our butts in gear.”
“How bad was it? Scale of one to ten,” Cassidy asks eagerly.
I stare down at my belly. “Maybe a five? It was like a bad period cramp, but more tense and uncomfortable.”
“We can buy everything online,” Duke says in a panic. “We should get you home to lay down and rest.”
“I’m fine, Duke. It’s gone now. And I want to pick out her coming home outfit. Oh, and get one of those mink soft blankets for her.”
“Food first,” Cassidy states firmly, earning a booming laugh from Butch. She smiles at him as he takes her hand and walks to the exit.
I go to follow them when Duke holds me back. I look up at him, his dark eyes a mixture of emotions—worry being the most prominent. “Maci…”
I get on my tippy toes and give him a quick kiss. “We’re okay,” I whisper. “She’s staying put for now. I promise.”
Silence lingers between us for a moment before he huffs, “Two stores max after lunch. I don’t want you walking around all day if you’re going to be hurting with these false labor pains.”
I beam. “Yes, sir.”
He sighs, shaking his head with a play of a smile. “I mean it, angel. I don’t want you overdoing it.”
I tug his arm, to bring him in for another kiss. “I won’t. And if I do, I’ll have you to carry me to the car,” I tease.
He chuckles. “Always.”