Her Billionaires(125)
Or it would secede and go join one of the cat’s bodies, claiming sovereignty and a new pussy. Fucking anything that walked wasn’t what she wanted; most nights she spent an hour after masturbating thinking about Dylan and Mike, wondering how it had all gone so very wrong, and brooding over what she knew she needed to do.
And now? It really was time to tell them. Her fingers sought out the photos of the ultrasound, stuck carefully in the outer pocket of her purse. Josie was right—this was real. Reality meant being the stronger, better woman she had deep within and doing what was best for her daughter.
Her daughter deserved a dad who knew her.
Knowing this time to wait a few minutes before biting into the piping hot shrimp, Laura just sat and took a few deep breaths. The scene outside was a lovely November New England day, sunnier than usual and unseasonably warm. Thanksgiving was two weeks away and Christmas decorations were already in some shop windows. Her lightweight shirt had lasted since August, when she’d bought it. Soon it wouldn’t fit, and the weather would turn to snow, perfect ski weather.
Ah, Mike. She sighed. Half hoping last summer that come winter he’d teach her how to ski, her eyes filled with tears yet again for what was lost. Stupid to think of that when she was holding back the most important news the guys had ever had in their lives. She assumed. Maybe Jill’s death had been more important.
Both seemed pretty significant. What was she doing comparing them, anyhow? Ridiculous. Bottom line, though, was that after this meal she would go home, take a nap, and prepare to call them both tomorrow and face what she’d been putting off for three months.
“Mmmm,” Josie groaned as she munched on her coconut shrimp. Laura plucked one off the plate and took a bite, sinking her teeth in. Instant pleasure. The next ten minutes were a feeding frenzy as Madge brought out their sausage, foccacia, and the grand peanut butter cake.
“You eat more than a high school football team these days,” Josie said, incredulous, as Laura asked Madge for another plate of shrimp.
“I have the sex drive of a high school boy, so that’s not inappropriate.” Munch, munch.
“TMI. I sooo did not need to know that.”
“My batteries need batteries.”
Josie shoved her fingers in her ears. “Lalalalalalalalalalala.” Laura laughed maniacally and started to feel full. One more shrimp on the plate, she speared it and dipped it in the aioli. Heaven. Pure heaven.
“So you’re going to talk to them now, right?” Josie asked quietly, prodding without being negative. Pushing her plate of friend green tomatoes away, she smiled at Laura, an encouragingly sympathetic look.
Laura pulled her unfinished plate into her zone of consumption. Mine now. Stabbing a tomato, she tried the tiger sauce. Horseradish. Was it worth the reflux?
Yes! Mmmmm.
“You’re right. I’ll talk to them. The baby is one of theirs and it’s time.”
Cupping one hand over her ear, Josie leaned across the table. “Say that again.”
“I’m telling them.”
“No—the part before that.”
Laura made a sour face. “You’re right.” Time for dessert! She dumped all the caramel and hot fudge all over the peanut butter hulk smash cake and sneered at Josie. “And no cake for you!”
“You think I’m going to try to take a bite of that from a horny pregnant woman? I’m not suicidal.”
Laura’s laugh carried through the diner, turning a few heads and yielding bemused smiles. Ah, it felt good to laugh, deep belly chuckles that came from relief and calm and goodness and light. The baby kicked again.
“She likes the cake,” Laura said, shoveling in another piece, following it up with ice cream.
“She’s a gourmand. What are you going to name her?”
A long look at her plate. “Hulk Smash. Hulk Smash Michaels.”
“Oh, that’s totally a porn name.” Laura threw a wadded napkin at Josie, who ducked.
Finally full, Laura pushed her clean plate away. If she overate, she’d regret it later. Pregnancy was no different from non-pregnant life, with the exception of evil reflux. “I don’t know. Whatever we name her it needs to be a collaborative effort.”
“Like the conception.”
Laura snorted. They were shifting into uncomfortable territory. “Yeah. Except no matter what, it’s only one of them who is the father.”
“Happy paternity testing.” Josie shot her a sardonic grin.
“Go ahead,” Laura sighed. “I know you’re itching to say it.”
“What?” Josie batted her eyes innocently.