“I’m close to three months along now,” she says. “I’ll be showing by then.”
“How about two weeks? That will give Nora a little time and maybe stop her from getting too many ideas.”
“I think that will work. It feels a little rushed, but…”
“We can wait, if you want. If you don’t feel like waddling down the aisle, we can wait until after the baby is born.”
“No,” Cherry says quickly, “I don’t want to do that. I guess I’m a little traditional when it comes to such things, too.”
“Two weeks, then.”
Cherry nods, and I kiss her again, slowly this time, but when she becomes more aggressive, I’m happy to oblige. I run my hand down her arm, over her stomach, and up to cup a breast. As soon as I do, I realize exactly how Jessie knew Cherry was pregnant—her tits are about to bust right out of her bra, even without my help.
I smile against her lips, but Cherry suddenly pushes me away.
“Nate—wait!”
“What is it?”
“What about the Ramsays?” Cherry asks.
“You mean, now that I know I’m one of them?”
“Yes, but also just in general. They were shooting at us recently, if you recall.”
“Oh, I have not forgotten about that. I need to talk to Threes and Antony. After that, I’m going to visit Janna Ramsay myself.”
“Nate,” Cherry says as she grabs my arm, “are you sure you want to do that?”
“I don’t see a lot of choice in the matter. It’s time we put an end to all of this, and talking to her is the first step.”
“And end to what?”
I turn toward her.
“Cherry,” I say, “answer me honestly. Do you want to have anything to do with the family business? I mean, take me out of the equation. Do you want to be involved in forgery and money laundering? Is that the business you want to own?”
Cherry bites her lip but doesn’t answer.
“You don’t, do you?”
“I love you, Nate, and I love your family. I want to be involved with the family, but no…I don’t want anything to do with the business. I’m all right with it because I want to be with you more than anything, but I don’t want to be directly involved in it. Even if you’re talking about the maple forest and the syrup plant, I don’t think I want to be a part of that.”
“You want to be a botanist.”
“Yes.” Cherry looks at me earnestly. “But Nate, I’d never tell you what you should or shouldn’t do. I can do my own thing on the side. I can still be with you and not be involved in the business. I can stick my fingers in my ears and hum when I need to.”
“No.” I take her face in my hands. “I don’t want you to have to do that.”
“What’s the alternative?”
I think about it for a minute, formulating a plan in my head.
“Where would you like to go to school?”
“Well, lots of universities have botany programs,” she says, “but I can’t really afford to go just anywhere.”
“Money is no object.” I stare into her eyes. “Are you going to object to your husband paying for your degree with his ill-gotten booty?”