They did surprise him.
Her eyes big, she stared. “If that’s what you want.”
“I do.” Surprisingly, he meant his words. He couldn’t imagine not being there when their baby made his or her appearance into the world.
Which made no sense. Not being there made even less.
“Promise you’ll call when you go into labor.”
Still staring at him as if he’d grown a third eye, or worse, she nodded. “Anything else?”
He thought a moment. “Are we having a boy or a girl?”
She shrugged. “I don’t know.”
His eyebrows rose. “But the paper the sonographer gave you...”
“I never looked.”
He arched his brow. “You didn’t?”
She shook her head.
“Why not?”
She’d not hesitated in saying she wanted to know the gender of their baby. Why wouldn’t she have looked?
“I decided I’d wait.”
But he knew.
“You wouldn’t be able to keep it a secret from me,” he guessed. “So you opted not to find out, too.”
Her face said he was right even as she continued to try to bluff him. “I thought we had already established that I’m better at keeping secrets than you’re giving me credit for.”
She was referring to her pregnancy, and she was right. He hadn’t even suspected.
“Once I knew about the baby, keeping the gender from me would have been more difficult.”
“Why?” she pushed. “Until my wreck, we didn’t talk.”
He winced. She was right. They hadn’t.
“If I could go back in time...” His voice trailed off, mostly because he wasn’t sure what he was going to say. Had he been about to say that he’d have talked to her? Insisted she talk to him? Or had he been implying something much more profound? Something he had no right to imply because he wouldn’t change having left Chattanooga.
She seemed to sense that he himself didn’t know because she didn’t push him to elaborate despi
te the curiosity shining on her face.
“Where are we going?” she asked instead as they crossed over I-440.
“The mall.”
“The mall?”
“You need new clothes.”
She glanced down at her yoga pants and his sweatshirt. “Sorry, my clothing selection here in Nashville is limited.”