Crush - Kelsie Rae Page 0,15

Bennett gave me.”

“Ooo, I bet it was the same one he gave me at the beginning. Isn’t it the best feeling ever to not feel like you're going to puke your guts out every morning?”

“Right? Morning sickness is the worst. I hate feeling like I’m going to throw up.”

“Same. And Bertha’s pancakes are delicious. I’d hate for you to have to pass them up just because you aren’t feeling well. I’ll never forget the first time I tried them. Grady practically had to force one down my throat.” She laughs at the fond memory, and I join in.

“I remember. I still can’t believe you couldn’t see how freaking gorgeous you were. Are,” I correct myself. “Even pregnant, you’re glowing. Are you anxious to finally have your baby in your arms?”

“Yeah, I’m not going to lie. The last month has been rough. I have my appointment later today, and Dr. Bennett is going to check to see if I’ve made any progress over the past week.”

“Fingers crossed. I bet the days go by slowly in the end.”

She groans. “You have no idea. Every day feels like a week. And can I tell you how sick I am of waking up to go to the bathroom every hour? Which reminds me”––she scowls––“I need to go to the bathroom. If you’ll excuse me….”

Slipping out of the booth, she waddles to the bathroom while I pull out my phone to find another message from Ben.

DRBen918: Rare? Medium? Medium-well? Don’t tell me you like it well done.

What were we talking about?

Oh. Steak.

Marcy123Marcy: Medium-rare. Why?

DRBen918: Because I’d love to cook for you.

DRBen918: Unless you think that would be weird.

DRBen918: And if you do think it’s weird, then I was joking. Definitely joking.

DRBen918: But if you don’t think it’s weird…I’d love to make you dinner to apologize for ditching you last night. What do you say?

DRBen918: Also, on an unrelated note. How awkward did I just make this conversation on a scale of one to ten?

I’m grinning like a loon as I scan his messages.

Marcy123Marcy: Like a six? And I love a good slab of meat. Lol Steak sounds great. What day works for you? Just a hunch, but I’m going to go ahead and say that your schedule is a little busier than mine.

“What are you smiling at?” Dylan asks, making me jump a mile in the air as I register her voice.

Clutching my chest, I gasp. “You scared the shit out of me!”

Her amusement echoes throughout the diner as she plops back down across from me. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you. Who were you texting?”

“No one.”

Gaze narrowing, she rests her elbows against the table and stares me down like a seasoned cop. For all I know, she probably picked up the interrogation tactics from her brother-in-law. “You sure about that? ‘Cause you totally just looked like you got caught with your hand in the proverbial cookie jar.”

Bertha sets two plates full of buttermilk pancakes in front of us before I have a chance to respond. “Here you go, ladies. Flag me down if you need anything else.”

“Thanks, Bertha!” we call in unison to her retreating form.

The syrup is still warm as I drizzle it on my breakfast while simultaneously ignoring the suspicious look on Dylan’s face.

Shoving a big bite of deliciousness into my mouth, I glance up at her before rolling my eyes.

She crosses her arms with a look that says, I’ve got all day.

“Have you been practicing that look?” I ask after swallowing my bite of pancakes. “Because you’re gonna nail the whole bossy parent thing.”

With a grin, Dylan quips, “Why thank you. Thank you very much. Now answer the––”

My phone buzzes on top of the table, and she strikes faster than a snake, scooping it up and reading the notification.

“Doctor Ben nine-one––Oh my gosh, is this Dr. Bennett?” Her eyes light up. “Are you texting Dr. Bennett, Marcy?”

My nose scrunches, but instead of answering her, I shove another bite of pancakes into my mouth.

“I’ll take that as a yes. When the hell did this happen?”

“Yesterday?” I offer with a shrug.

“So, you were able to let go of the whole wedding ring debacle, I assume? Did he tell you about his wife?” Her concern is apparent as she sets the phone back down on my side of the table, then reaches over and places her hand on top of mine.

“You knew about his wife?” I ask, unable to hide my surprise.

“Yeah. Grant was on the scene after the accident. It was rough.