“Forget Jesus. Tell me about the carrot. I’ve been thinking about it for days.” “The woman you’ve known for all of two months tells you she accidentally got pregnant and what keeps you up is wondering about the carrot in her purse?” He chuckles and gives my hair a little tug, tipping my face up to his. “Yeah.” He shrugs. “You feel right in my life. In Luke’s life. We just . . . make sense to me somehow. And another little person will too. Nothing about that feels wrong to me. The only thing that doesn’t make sense is that fucking carrot.”
