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Authors: Shiloh Walker
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he’d just be waiting.
Then he thought about what the old lady had said.
Are you Sloane’s young man…
He had to bite back the urge to growl. Even at the thought.
She had a young man? What the—
Cutting the thought off, he studied the area around him, the busy street, the little coffee shop at the intersection. He’d grab a cup of coffee and wait for her.
And hope like hell she didn’t show up with her young man .
It had been a day.
A very bad day and all Sloane wanted to do was lay down and sleep for the next twelve hours.
That wasn’t an option because she had movers coming in at eight and she needed to spend the night getting everything ready.
It had been her last day on her job and thanks to her morning sickness from hell, she’d spent a good thirty minutes on her knees in front of the toilet.
She was used to that and had started getting up early just to let her belly settle, eat some crackers. She would have been fine, made it to work on time and everything.
If it hadn’t been the guy 124D.
124D had asked her out three times and each time he’d gotten a little pushier with it. Politely pushy, if such a thing could exist, but pushy all the same.
This morning as she’d been heading out the door, he’d fallen into step with her and offered her a breakfast sandwich he’d gotten from the coffeeshop.
Just the smell of the eggs had sent her rushing to the edge of the sidewalk where she’d emptied her stomach almost violently. She’d give the man credit. He’d tried to help, holding her shoulder, offering to help her sit down as she fought the urge to keep retching.
She’d told him to fuck off. Sloane was almost positive it was the first time she’d ever said that to anybody.
He’d just nodded and left. A few minutes later, a friendly cop had stopped to check on her.
She’d had to go back up to her apartment and brush her teeth and by the time she made it back to the street, she’d missed her bus.
That had set the rhythm for the entire day and today was one of those days where her stomach wouldn’t settle for anything.
If she could have just buried herself in bed from now until dawn, she’d be happy.
Gripping the bannister with one hand, she started up the steps to her apartment building, the bag on her shoulder feeling like it weighed fifty pounds. It had several gifts from friends, a few cards and the rest of the personal items—pictures, a book she’d been reading on her lunch break—or trying to read—for the past six months.
The weight of the bag dragged at her as she climbed the eight steps between her and the door. She was only three steps up when the door opened and 124D stepped out. He caught sight of her and winced, but to her surprise, he didn’t disappear back inside.
He jogged down the steps. “Hey.”
“Hi.” She took another two steps. The bag’s shoulder strap slid down her arm.
“Here.”
Frowning, she eyed the man in front of her as he tugged the strap off and swung the bright pink bag over his shoulder.
“Look,” she said, her voice weary. “I...appreciate the interest.”
“No, you don’t.” He gave her a smile and for the first time, she caught the charm in it. “I’m sorry. I’ve been…well. The first time I saw you, you almost knocked the air out of my lungs.”
Then his gaze drifted down, lingering on her belly. “I didn’t…how far along are you?”
“Ah…” Blinking, she just stared at him. Then, with a groan, she dropped down on the steps and sat down, staring back out over the street. It was crowded with the typical Friday evening traffic, people heading home from work—or going out for the evening. The scent of fall lay heavy in the air and she took a deep, slow breath. “Almost eight weeks.”
There was a pause and then he sat down beside her. “I didn’t know you had a boyfriend. I—”
“I don’t.”
“Oh.” He blew out a breath. “Sorry.”
“It’s not a problem.” She had to get used to this.
Then he thought about what the old lady had said.
Are you Sloane’s young man…
He had to bite back the urge to growl. Even at the thought.
She had a young man? What the—
Cutting the thought off, he studied the area around him, the busy street, the little coffee shop at the intersection. He’d grab a cup of coffee and wait for her.
And hope like hell she didn’t show up with her young man .
It had been a day.
A very bad day and all Sloane wanted to do was lay down and sleep for the next twelve hours.
That wasn’t an option because she had movers coming in at eight and she needed to spend the night getting everything ready.
It had been her last day on her job and thanks to her morning sickness from hell, she’d spent a good thirty minutes on her knees in front of the toilet.
She was used to that and had started getting up early just to let her belly settle, eat some crackers. She would have been fine, made it to work on time and everything.
If it hadn’t been the guy 124D.
124D had asked her out three times and each time he’d gotten a little pushier with it. Politely pushy, if such a thing could exist, but pushy all the same.
This morning as she’d been heading out the door, he’d fallen into step with her and offered her a breakfast sandwich he’d gotten from the coffeeshop.
Just the smell of the eggs had sent her rushing to the edge of the sidewalk where she’d emptied her stomach almost violently. She’d give the man credit. He’d tried to help, holding her shoulder, offering to help her sit down as she fought the urge to keep retching.
She’d told him to fuck off. Sloane was almost positive it was the first time she’d ever said that to anybody.
He’d just nodded and left. A few minutes later, a friendly cop had stopped to check on her.
She’d had to go back up to her apartment and brush her teeth and by the time she made it back to the street, she’d missed her bus.
That had set the rhythm for the entire day and today was one of those days where her stomach wouldn’t settle for anything.
If she could have just buried herself in bed from now until dawn, she’d be happy.
Gripping the bannister with one hand, she started up the steps to her apartment building, the bag on her shoulder feeling like it weighed fifty pounds. It had several gifts from friends, a few cards and the rest of the personal items—pictures, a book she’d been reading on her lunch break—or trying to read—for the past six months.
The weight of the bag dragged at her as she climbed the eight steps between her and the door. She was only three steps up when the door opened and 124D stepped out. He caught sight of her and winced, but to her surprise, he didn’t disappear back inside.
He jogged down the steps. “Hey.”
“Hi.” She took another two steps. The bag’s shoulder strap slid down her arm.
“Here.”
Frowning, she eyed the man in front of her as he tugged the strap off and swung the bright pink bag over his shoulder.
“Look,” she said, her voice weary. “I...appreciate the interest.”
“No, you don’t.” He gave her a smile and for the first time, she caught the charm in it. “I’m sorry. I’ve been…well. The first time I saw you, you almost knocked the air out of my lungs.”
Then his gaze drifted down, lingering on her belly. “I didn’t…how far along are you?”
“Ah…” Blinking, she just stared at him. Then, with a groan, she dropped down on the steps and sat down, staring back out over the street. It was crowded with the typical Friday evening traffic, people heading home from work—or going out for the evening. The scent of fall lay heavy in the air and she took a deep, slow breath. “Almost eight weeks.”
There was a pause and then he sat down beside her. “I didn’t know you had a boyfriend. I—”
“I don’t.”
“Oh.” He blew out a breath. “Sorry.”
“It’s not a problem.” She had to get used to this.
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