Total pages in book: 56
Estimated words: 53521 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 268(@200wpm)___ 214(@250wpm)___ 178(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 53521 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 268(@200wpm)___ 214(@250wpm)___ 178(@300wpm)
Tripp: It’s a girl. I just know it. And look what I bought. (image of Tripp wearing a ‘Proud Uncle’ t-shirt.
Paxton: Where’d you get that? I want one.
Brock: Congrats, bro. Sorry I’ve been quiet. Millie and I just broke up.
Callum: Oh man, sorry to hear that.
Paxton: Sorry.
Griffin: Sad to hear that.
Sorry, buddy. I have to head out, taking Felicity to dinner so we can discuss things.
Callum: Good luck with that.
Tripp: Keep us updated.
Brock: Good luck, Shep.
I slip my phone into my pocket the moment Felicity emerges from the bathroom, her presence captivating. Is it the glow of impending motherhood or has she always been this radiant? I find myself unable to tear my gaze away from her.
"Where to?" I inquire, considering suggesting Atta Boy's for a meal, though the thought flickers away as quickly as it comes. We haven't broached the topic of sharing our news yet, and given that my entire family practically knows, it might not be the best choice.
"I was thinking we could just go to Pour Some Sugar On Me Coffee Shop, grab a quick snack. I'm feeling a bit tired, and not that hungry," she suggests softly.
"Sure thing," I reply with a nod.
Exiting the doctor's office, I'm left grappling with a whirlwind of emotions stirred by the appointment. The doctor's comment about our love leaves me contemplating. Would it be inappropriate to ask Felicity out on a date? After all, she's carrying my child. But the thought lingers, persistent and tantalizing.
As we approach my truck, uncertainty gnaws at me. Why aren't we dating? Why does she seem so angry with me?
I hold the door open, lifting her into the front seat, a gesture rooted in a desire to ensure Felicity's comfort and well-being throughout her pregnancy. But her reaction is not what I expect.
"Shepherd, you need to stop lifting me into your truck. I can do it myself," her tone sharp and accusatory as she fastens her seatbelt.
I don’t even know what to say to her at this point. “You’re carrying my baby in there.” I point to her belly.
She slams the door shut, and I shake my head. If this is how she wants to play it, fine.
I march to the other side of the truck and hop into the driver’s side.
“I appreciate it, Shep. But I can climb into your truck by myself.”
I nod. “Fine.” I pull out of the parking lot and head toward downtown Magnolia Ridge. When I spot the coffee shop, I pull into the nearly empty lot. I guess not many people are having coffee this late in the day, which makes me happy because I want to be alone with Felicity.
I don’t even bother opening the truck door and helping her out, which apparently makes her even more upset.
It appears I can’t win.
I do open the coffee shop door for her, and we head to the front counter.
“Shepherd,” Harrison, the owner of the shop, says. “Haven’t seen you in quite a while. Heard you were down in Florida.”
Felicity’s eyes snap to mine, but I keep my focus on Harrison.
“Yeah, had to help out Ellis and Urban with a few things,” I say, mentioning my cousin’s who own a brewery down south.
“Glad you’re back.” Harrison smiles, and his new wife steps out from the back area. “February, look who’s back.”
February smiles at me, and I laugh. “Hey Shepherd, how are you?”
“I’m good. Heard I missed a wedding between you two.”
“Everyone did. Sorry about that. We were in Vegas and decided to just do it,” she says, her gaze shifting over to Felicity. “You’re Felicity Lark, right?”
Felicity nods. “Yeah, I’ve lived in this town most of my life, but I guess I’ve always ran in different circles,” she says.
“How do you two know each other?” Harrison asks.
“We’re neighbors,” Felicity says rather quickly. A little too quickly for my liking. I want to tell Harrison and February that we’re dating. That we’re expecting a baby.
But I keep my mouth shut.
After a few more minutes of small talk, we put in a quick order, decaf coffee for Felicity, and we head to a small table in the corner of the shop.
“So,” I say, trying to start off the conversation, but not really sure where to begin.
“So,” Felicity says back. “I think we need a few ground rules. First, have you told anyone?”
“Was I not supposed to?”
Her brown eyes widen. “Oh, who have you told?”
“Just my brothers,” I say, like it’s no big deal. “Oh, and my sister. Also, Hartford, Paxton’s fiancée knows.”
“Oh my god,” she whispers. “Now I’m sure everyone knows.” She places her hands over her eyes.
I grab one of her hands, bringing it down to the table. “People are going to find out sooner or later.”
“I’d rather it be the latter. I haven’t even told my best friend yet. I’ll need to tell my boss.”