Marrying My Billionaire Hookup - Nadia Lee Page 0,91

I should.”

Since I want to change the topic from her anxiety about not meeting the expectations she set out for herself, I say, “Is the family dinner at the restaurant again?”

She shakes her head. “It’ll be at my parents’.”

“Should we bring something? Wine or liquor, maybe?”

“Nah. We have plenty of great wine and beer.” Her eyes start twinkling. “And you caught the part about my uncle serving something new, right? My dad didn’t say that for no reason.”

“What’s the reason, then?”

“Tío Manny loves to experiment in the kitchen, even though my dad would prefer to just hang out and drink beer and watch soccer.”

“I can do that with your dad,” I offer. “I’m sure nobody wants me in the kitchen.” I can do some basic cooking, but I’ve seen the elaborate Mexican food served at Manny’s Tacos. That’s far beyond my limited abilities.

“I’m sure my dad would like that, but I gotta warn you. The food is not going to be like what you had at the restaurant,” Jo says. “That ‘something new’ means they’ll be feeding you experimental food.”

“As long as it’s not Soylent Green, I’m fine.”

Jo goes dead silent, staring at me with wide eyes, and I suddenly have the sinking feeling that my little joke didn’t work. Maybe I should just stay away from humor. It simply isn’t my forte. But then she snorts and chuckles.

“Oh man, I can’t wait to use that, especially when Tío Manny gives me a mystery recipe with a lot of avocado,” Jo says. “Soylent guac!”

I smile and join in her laughter. Thank God the joke wasn’t a total bust.

The dinner conversation switches to more neutral topics. I tell her I’m working remotely, and the company can handle it.

Then, as we’re finishing up, I realize we’ve never talked about doctor’s appointments. She’s bound to have a lot of them, and she should have me with her for every single one. “Jo?”

“Yeah?” she says, picking up her plate to take it to the sink.

“Can you tell me when your next doctor’s appointment is? I’d like to be there.”

“Um. I actually don’t have one yet. My doctor retired last year, and I haven’t gotten a new one yet. Hilary said she’ll see if she can hook me up.”

I frown. I don’t know much about pregnancy, but I’m pretty certain regular checkups are important. Tony and Ivy went all the time, and he never missed an appointment.

“Don’t look so worried,” Jo says, running a thumb over my brow as though she’s trying to iron wrinkles off my forehead. “It’s still early enough that it’s okay. I’m taking my vitamins and eating all my veggies.”

I take her hands and kiss the fingertips. “If she can’t fit you in soon, how about Dr. Silverman? She’s Ivy’s doctor, and Ivy really likes her.”

Jo looks surprised. “That’s the doctor Hilary was thinking of, too! She said her husband insisted.”

There’s a slight note of wistfulness in her voice, as though she wishes she had somebody to coddle her like that. But you don’t have to feel that way. You have me.

“Let me take care of the details,” I say, brushing the back of my fingers along the bridge of her nose and enjoying the soft flush suffusing her cheeks. “Send me your availability for the next few days.”

Chapter Thirty-Four

Jo

I run my brush mechanically through my hair while staring at my reflection. I’ve already double cleansed. Multiple layers of serum and cream are sitting on my face and neck. I even peed twice.

But I’ve been in the bathroom for over half an hour. Delaying more is going to get ridiculous.

But the debate I’m having with myself won’t die. Wearing makeup to bed is stupid. It ruins your skin and possibly causes breakouts. But I can’t seem to just…be comfortable. I care way too much about Edgar’s opinion.

I feel like I should at least put on lipstick. But I can’t do that for four months. I’m probably being silly. Intellectually, I understand we are our worst critics. But emotionally, it feels vulnerable. I’ve not only never lived with a guy before, but I’ve never even spent an entire night with one.

It’ll be okay, I tell myself. Pregnancy is supposed to make you glow, right?

Squinting, I lean closer so I can examine my face better. Am I glowing? It’s hard to tell. Why doesn’t the glow come with a halo or something so it’s obvious?

Sighing, I put on a pink silk nightgown. I bought it last month on a whim. It isn’t something