“Please.” He smiles warmly at me. “Call me Andrew.” As he says the words, something flickers over Nina Winchester’s face. Her lips twitch and her eyes narrow.
“As long as you’re not eating in front of Cecelia.” He tilts his head. “Why?” “You know. Because she’s allergic.” They really don’t seem very respectful of Cecelia’s deadly peanut allergy in this household. Even more surprising, Andrew laughs. “No, she’s not.”
“I’m not pregnant yet. But Andy and I are seeing this fertility specialist who is supposed to be amazing. Trust me, I’ll have a baby by the end of the year.”
Are they actually seeing a fertility specialist?? I am not trusting ANYTHING this woman says
I love how he wears a T-shirt and jeans on the weekends. I love the way his hair gets tousled when he’s doing physical activity. I love the way he smiles and winks at me.
It seems like spending the entire night with him, just the two of us, is tempting fate. But that’s ridiculous. We’re just going to go to Manhattan to enjoy a show.
“Do you want me to read the menu to you in English?” My cheeks grow warm. “You don’t have to do that. Just pick out some things you think I’d like.” He looks pleased by that answer. “Okay, I can do that.”
“No.” He shakes his head firmly, his fingers still wrapped around my arm. “You are wrong. She is not—” Before he can get any other words out, the front door to the house swings open again.
This man is always getting interrupted. Just let the man reveal the plot