with her romance novels. It would be unseemly—for the romance novels. She wouldn’t want Lisa Kleypas to be bored to death sitting next to Thomas Aquinas.
She pulled out one of Patrick’s five bibles, and a hunk of hair fell out. She was holding it and trying to figure out if she needed to find a way to fake her own death—the only option if Patrick was some weird hair fetishist—when he walked in and blanched.
He took the hair from her hand and said, “This is not what it looks like.”
“So, you don’t collect weird strands of hair?”
He looked down at it. “This is your hair.”
“From the time I cut it off? You kept it?” She didn’t know if she was flattered or horrified.
“Yeah, it’s gross and weird. I’m sorry.” He looked so embarrassed. It was so adorable that she was less creeped out by it.
“It’s some real Derek Craven shit.”
“Who is Derek Craven? Is that one of your ex-boyfriends?”
As a priest, Patrick probably didn’t read very many romance novels. She had so much to teach him. “Derek Craven is not one of my ex-boyfriends, Patrick.” She grabbed him by the upper arms. “I know that you’ve read all the important works by dead white guys, but if you don’t read Dreaming of You immediately, we’re going to have to break up.”
She hoped that her sarcasm came across, and it must have because Patrick smirked. “That seems serious.”
“Don’t worry. I will have a whole reading list ready for you.” She turned him around and pushed him toward her already color-coded bookshelf. “We’ll start you on this one.” She pulled out her dog-eared copy of one of the greatest romance novels of all time and put in his hands. “I think you’ll particularly enjoy the talisman work in this.”
He caught her off guard by pulling her into his arms and kissing her. She stopped assembling a romance curriculum in her head. When he pulled back, he said, “You’re not upset about the hair. I kept it because—I don’t know—it reminded me of you.”
“It’s very gross, but you’re very handsome and good at sex and I love you. So, I guess it’s sort of romantic.”
“Good.” He took his book of philosophy and put it on his side of the room. Away from Sasha’s romance novels. She smiled at him.
“But can I throw it away now?” she asked. “I can always grow more.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
HANNAH’S BABY SHOWER WAS an event. Her and Jack’s wedding had been pretty great, if filled with drama. But this one was going to be drama free. All of their friends and family were there and happy, and there was no one there to have a massive fight that would preoccupy them for days.
Sasha had been deliberate and ruthless with seating arrangements. Hannah’s mother needed to be seated far away from Molly Simpson and Sean Nolan, because Hannah’s mom and Jack’s mom were bound to start divvying up holidays with Baby Nolan before they were even born.
Hannah had agreed to talking any of their know-it-all mommy friends—who’d put up a fuss about a co-ed shower—into leaving an hour before the shower officially ended so that she could have one glass of the very good champagne that Bridget and Matt had contributed to the cause.
It didn’t matter that they were all gathered at their usual gathering place—Dooley’s—with people they usually saw. The space was transformed. When they’d finished decorating, Patrick had congratulated her very personally in his office in the back.
And the shower itself went off without a hitch. Sasha had nipped any stupid games in the bud, knowing that a thirty-eight-thousand-weeks-pregnant Hannah would punch anyone who put a perfectly good chocolate bar inside a diaper in the face.
In the few months since they’d moved in together, Sasha and Patrick had put any talk of their future on hold. Everything had moved so fast up to that point that they didn’t want to rush. They’d agreed that they were both in it for keeps, but they hadn’t really talked about marriage or kids. Sasha had always pictured kids in her future, but she could live without them if Patrick didn’t want to be a parent.
Their relationship was enough for her.
Sometimes, like at big family events where everyone used to look to Patrick for some words of spiritual wisdom, she worried that Patrick missed being a priest.
And the nice thing about hanging out with her friends and their dudes was that the dudes helped with cleanup. Hannah and Sasha got to spend some