Nip it in the Bud (Bunch-A-Blooms 3)

“Aww, hon. You know we’ll love baby bit, but you’re always going to be our main concern,” I say.

She gives a shaky smile. “You don’t know how relieved I am to hear that. Our families are going to be so suffocating.”

“Are you going to tell them now?” Olive asks.

“Not for a while.”

“I don’t blame you,” I reply, thinking of how excited her parents will be to have their first grandchild, and her in-laws will be to see Mason finally settling down.

“Yeah, I think the morning sickness is hitting. So we’ll see how long I can keep this to myself.”

“Well, our lips are sealed,” I say.

Olive zips her lips shut, and I laugh.

Petunia giggles and the moment passes.

“Enough of the sappiness. What conversation was I walking in on earlier?”

“Nothing,” I say.

“Ha. I was talking about her new boo, Drew.”

“Ahhh Mr. sexy with manners. Did he call already?” Petunia asks.

“No.”

Petunia shrugs. “A couple more days then.”

I roll my eyes. “Can we order? I’m starving.”

They exchange a look, but let the topic drop as we pour over the menu. I love the themed plates. From Sloppy Seconds to Struggling to Get Up, the tongue-in-cheek styled mea

ls are all delicious and affordable. I blow my healthy eating habits out the window with Frog Eyes, two homemade biscuits topped with sausage gravy and two eggs. At least I’m hydrating. I drain another glass of water and smile at the cute brunette hipster with black-rimmed square glasses and dark brown hair that falls across his forehead and over one of his dark brown eyes.

We owe him a nice tip. He’s been keeping the entire table happy. I can’t help but feel like this is the end of an era. This time next week, Olive will be in Europe with her husband, and Petunia will be settling into her recently acquired role of mommy-to-be. I take in all the details, committing the moment to memory.

***

The sound of the phone ringing makes me groan. Odd Thomas was just about to stumble into a new set of issues. I’d been trying to finish the series for months, but between my social life and my work schedule, it was slow going. I placed my magnetic bookmark to save my space and glance down at the screen. It’s Drew!

I’m shocked. It’s only been two days. A day and a half if you want to get technical. The men I know never call before at least three. Intrigued, I answer the phone.

“Hello?”

“You sound surprised to hear from me,” he says. I can hear the amusement in his voice, and my mind instantly brings up an image of his dimpled smile.

“I am. I thought three days was the rule,” I reply, probing him for more information. Is this an act or is he just different?

“Maybe, but figured there was no point in pretending I wasn’t interested when I am.”

I can’t stop the smile that curves my lips upward. I appreciate his straightforward approach. We’re too old to play games “I like your honesty.”

“It’s all I deal in. You were on my mind, so I thought I’d give you a call.”

“I’m glad you did.” There’s something about his openness that encourages me to be the same way.

He gives a boyish chuckle, and I find myself feeling like a preteen with stars in my eyes and butterflies in my belly. Leaning back against my couch, I take a long draw off my sweet tea.