Just Let Me Love You (Judge Me Not #3)(56)

“Memories, yes,” she replies, looking a little sly. “And…well, more.”

“Hmm,” I reply. “This is very creative, babe.”

She shrugs. “Well, since I can’t do art like you, I had to think of another way to express my creative side. I wanted to make your surprise artistic in some way, especially since you’re so artistic and I knew you’d appreciate the gesture.”

I’m touched, and I tell her, “That’s sweet of you, babe.” And then I ask, “So, what kind of art is this, then?”

I’m curious to find out how Kay views what she’s created.

“It’s conceptual,” she tells me. “The things inside each balloon represent our past. Well, except for one.” She smiles, and says, “One represents our future.”

Hmm, I wonder what she could have in the balloon representing our future. But I soon find out I have to go through the past ones first.

Kay hands me another balloon. “Pop it,” she says, smiling.

I do as she asks.

Pop!

This balloon holds a wrapper from a wedge of brie.

I laugh.

Another balloon… Pop!

This one holds a tiny piece of baguette.

Taking a bite, I utter, “Delicious.”

The balloon-popping continues, and I’m rewarded with more surprises.

Pop!

There’s a tiny metal Eiffel Tower.

Pop!

I find oil pastels in the next balloon. I hold one of the colorful sticks up and say, “Hey, I needed these colors.”

“I know,” Kay replies, nudging me. “That’s why I picked those particular ones.”

“Aha.”

Pop!

I find the scorecard from when we went mini-golfing last June, when I really got Kay going with my innuendo-laden words.

“I almost jumped you that night,” she tells me.

“Shit, really?” I raise a brow, and she nods. “You should have,” I add.

Sweet girl laughs. “Yeah, maybe, Chase, maybe I should have. But it kind of worked out okay, right?”

“It sure did.”

Pop!

Ticket stubs from the drive-in movie we went to with Will and Cassie.

And then, a few more pops, and a few more mementos from our past.

When I reach for the final balloon, I eye it curiously. This is the last balloon, so it must be the one holding something representative of our future.

Huh. I just can’t figure out why it looks the way it does, unlike any of the others I’ve popped thus far.

“Uh, Kay,” I begin. “I hate to spoil anything, but I think this balloon is defective.”

“It’s not defective, Chase. Just look more closely.”

I do as she asks. “Babe, there’s a little balloon inside the big balloon. Is it supposed to be like that?”

Kay steps in front of me and lowers the doubled balloon so that it hovers between us.

“Yes, Chase,” she says. “It’s supposed to be like that.” She takes the pin from my hand when I raise it up. “And you aren’t supposed to pop this one.”

“Okay,” I say slowly. I am confused as hell as to what a balloon inside another balloon could possibly mean.

And then it hits me.

“Holy shit, Kay! Does this mean what I think it does?”

“Yes, Chase.” Kay is looking at me with tears in her eyes, happy tears. “We’re going to have a baby.”





Kay



It is a beautiful October day, and I’m in the back of the farmhouse, rocking on the swing out on the porch. Missy is with me, leaning on the rail, and Chase and Nick are inside, talking business in the kitchen.

“Ugh, I’m as big as a house,” I lament as I try to reach for a glass of water on the floorboards of the porch.

Missy leans down and helps me retrieve my water. “It won’t be long now, Kay,” she assures me, straightening. “You’ve hit the home stretch.”

A baby cries from inside the house, and Missy is at the door in a heartbeat.

“That little girl has you and Nick wrapped around her finger,” I say, laughing.

Before Missy has a chance to head inside to see what her four-month-old daughter wants, Nick calls out, “She’s fine, Miss. I got her.”

I take a drink of water, lower the glass, and say, “Nick sure is good with the baby. Fatherhood suits him.”

Sitting down next to me on the swing, Missy says, “Yeah, he is amazing. Chase is going to be a great dad, too. He’s already so protective of you. I can’t even imagine how crazy he’ll be once the baby is born.”

Rubbing my huge belly, I agree. “Chase will be a wonderful dad, I’m sure.”

Missy peers down at my hand on my stomach. “By the way, I still can’t believe you don’t want to know the sex ahead of time.”

“Chase and I agreed we want to be surprised,” I tell Missy for about the hundredth time.

It’s true. We don’t have a preference. Boy or girl—as long as the baby is healthy we’ll be happy.

Suddenly, as I’m feeling all maternal, a contraction hits. I’ve had a few false starts, but this one feels like it could be the real deal.

“Ow.” I wince.