“It’s closed.”
Oh shit. Is today the third Sunday? The owners shut down early on third Sundays.
I sigh. “Sorry. I didn’t realize.” Guilt wriggles its way into me. “You didn’t stand here all this time, did you?”
If he says yes, I’m going to feel awful. But not so awful that if I’d known, I would’ve rushed through my prep. A woman needs as much time as she needs.
“No. I had a few calls in my car.”
I nod, pleased he is capable of using his time effectively without being petty. I broke up with a guy over that once.
“So. What are you doing here?” I scan his outfit closely. He isn’t in his fifteen-thousand-dollar suit anymore, but his clothes are still exceptional. The pale blue dress shirt is made of silk and the slacks are perfectly creased and black. And I approve of his Italian loafers.
On the other hand, he does look a bit too conservative.
I tap my chin thoughtfully. “Do you need my help varying your ensemble?”
“I’m capable of dressing myself. I’m here about your second objection.”
“My second objection?”
“You’re worried what you’re feeling is mere infatuation and, within four months, you’re going to wake up next to me with nothing but disgust for my presence.”
“I told you it wasn’t really disgust… But okay. Right. That.” I clear my throat. “What about it?”
“I’m here to deal with it.”
“You are? And how do you plan on doing that?” Unless he has the power to fundamentally change me or make time stay still so we never hit the four-month mark, I don’t know how he’s going to “deal with it.”
“We’re going to start our four months now. Let’s hope you don’t show too badly during your second trimester.”
My head spins. “Why?”
“Your wedding gown. Or are there maternity wedding gowns?”
Is he serious? Of course he is. And he’s obviously lost his mind. I stare at him with my mouth open. I’m sure I look ridiculous, and I try not to look ridiculous, but this…? I can’t even process.
Edgar seems oblivious to my reaction. “Perhaps I should leave those up to you. They’re your area of expertise.”
“Was I not clear?” I ask finally.
“You were very clear. But I’m going to show that you’re wrong. A woman capable of selecting the right dress can surely pick out the right man. You just have to consider all your previous boyfriends as practice for the right one.” He pauses. “Which would be me, if I have to spell it out.”
Self-assured much? On the other hand, a man who has enough panache to dominate a fifteen-thousand-dollar suit and remain unperturbed among my brothers and cousins after announcing he got me pregnant… Yeah, he’s got to be extra alpha.
I cross my arms. “So…is this a date?”
“Actually, I’m here to get your opinion on some places my realtor picked out.”
“Why me? I’m not an interior decorator.”
“Because we’re going to live there. Don’t you want to have some say?”
Okay, what? This is moving from extra alphaness to extraordinary presumption. “Refresh my memory here. When exactly did I decide I was moving in with you?”
“It’s for the four-month experiment.”
“I don’t think living in sin with you is a good idea. I doubt it’ll change anything.” Besides, he’s goin