For some reason, the butterflies won’t go away. They’ve taken up residence in my stomach and refuse to move out. If anything, they’re multiplying.

I knead my fingers in my lap and stare out the window of Daniel’s car. Maybe it’s the big billboard staring at me from various buildings―the smiling mom and baby tugging at my heartstrings as a permanent reminder that I’m not getting any younger.

Then there’s the ad for some retirement plan, asking if the timeline is being met. It’s one of those obtuse marketing strategies where the consumer is not actually sure what’s being advertised. It might just be me, but I don’t get the ad at all.

The only thing it does to me is remind me of the timeline I have with Daniel.

Okay, so we don’t actually have a timeline, and maybe that’s the actual problem.

When we first started on this road to get to know each other before we made a baby bargain, we should have discussed a time frame. Would the get-to-know-each-other phase last one month, two months, or three?

I mean, some people spend years getting to know each other only to find out when they’re old and gray that they’re not compatible. With the biological clock ticking, I don’t have that luxury.

And, let’s face it, if he’s still not sure if we should go ahead, it won’t be different in a month, a year, or ten.

God, in ten years I won’t be fertile anymore, I’m sure of it.

He’s not going to wait that long to make up his mind, is he? I gnaw on my bottom lip and shoot him the occasional sideways glance. His jawline is relaxed, and there’s a little twinkle in his eyes.

What’s stopping him? Second or third thoughts? Maybe he never meant to go through with it anyway?

I mean, this might be just a way for him to get a free fuck. The thought is absurd, I know. I’ve read the websites, the social media accounts, and all the other crap where women drool over the man and can’t wait to jump his bones and have his baby.

Okay, so he’s not doing it for the sex, I get it.

“Ready, darling?” His soft voice rouses me from my meandering thoughts.

I look around.

He’s parked the car outside a nice, colonial-style two-story home. A magnificent garden with a white pebble path stretches out ahead of me.

I see roses, marigolds, purple flowers, and something that looks like daffodils. It’s a feast for the eyes.

“As ready as I’ll ever be.” I make myself smile. Now is not the time to ask about the timeline.

I can imagine his face if I brought it up now, outside his mother’s house.

“So, Daniel how about that timeline?” I’d ask. “Are you ready to have that baby yet? And has your lawyer drawn up the contract yet? I mean, we want to make sure we document it all and prepare for any eventuality.”

With a shake of my head, I dismiss such crazy ideas. But seriously, would there really be a contract? It might be a good idea, right?

What if I have the baby and, for some reason, it’s not good enough for him? What if he changes his mind just before I give birth?

“So, Rose.” He turns to me as the midwife tells me to push. “I don’t think this is a good idea. And if you don’t mind, I’ll leave you and the…” He hesitates as he stares at my stretching pussy, “baby to it.”

I’d be left giving birth, with a baby tied to me 24/7.

The thoughts are ridiculous, I know, and I do my best to focus on what Daniel is saying.

He takes me by the hand and leads me up the garden path. Before he gets a chance to ring the doorbell, it opens to reveal a tall dark-haired man standing there.

“Hey, Ruben.” Daniel waves a hand in my direction. “Rose, I’d like you to meet my most recent step-father, Ruben.”

Most recent?

I shake his hand. He has a strong grip.

“Finally, I get to meet the girl who’s stolen my son’s heart.” He takes me by the shoulders and peers at me, and I notice Daniel cringe at the word son. “I can see why. You certainly do your name justice, my dear.”

My cheeks color a little, I’m sure of it. I mumble a thank you and we step inside.

“Right on time for dinner, you two. Punctual as ever, dear boy. You’re making your mother proud.” Something tugs at my heart as Daniel takes my hand and leads me inside.

Is it sadness that this might not be real? That I’m going to dinner with his family, and it could all be a charade? Am I…falling for Daniel?

I shake my head. Whoa, Rose. Get a grip, babe. A business arrangement—it’s only a business arrangement with Daniel. Don’t go falling in love with him now.

“So, Daniel, tells me you’re a retired lawyer.” I look at Ruben. “Sounds like interesting work.”

His step-father winks at me. “It can be. Trials can be very stressful, but you also get to meet a lot of colorful people.”

“Ruben represented someone once in a defamation case,” Daniel pipes up.

“Some judge—no names shall be mentioned—had the misfortune of having a nasty neighbor. And one morning, when the dear judge stepped outside his mansion to pick up the newspaper, he saw a huge sign on his front lawn saying ‘Mr. and Mrs. Asshat live here.’”

“No way.” I shake my head.

“Anyway, the dear judge sued the sign writer for defamation.”

“Wow. What happened?”

Ruben claps his hands together. “There was a four-day trial and, in the end, the poor judge lost. It was held that sharing your opinion about someone is not defamation.”

“You’re not boring our guest with legal war stories dear, are you?” Daniel’s mom comes out of one of the rooms to greet us.

“I’m not bored,” I reassure her and return her greeting.

“Let’s eat,” she says anyway.

Dinner is amazing. Daniel’s mom is an awesome cook, which is a surprise, given the few things he’s mentioned about her being more about shopping than mothering. Though, after that breakfast the other day, it shouldn’t be.

“Has Daniel told you about the time he kept a spider as a pet?”

I shake my head.

“Daniel used to be mad about insects,” his mom tells me. “And he’d go around the house collecting spiders. Of course, he’d get terribly upset when one of his sisters would throw out the glasses with his pets still inside.”

Daniel rolls his eyes.

“I haven’t heard much about these sisters,” I admit.

“Step-sisters,” Daniel corrects. “Fendi, Prada, and Chanel.”

I shake my head, trying hard not to burst out laughing. No fucking way.

Daniel leans over and whispers, “I’ll tell you later.”

His mom chimes in. “Oh, you don’t know about the girls? Why, Daniel, we’ll have to do this again and make sure they’re all here.”

“What’re you trying to do? Scare Rose off?”

I laugh. “Oh, come on, they can’t be that bad.” I give him a little kiss on the cheek. “I’d love to meet the rest of the family.”

He gives me a crooked smile. “You say that now…”

When dinner is finished, I offer to help clear the table, but Daniel’s mom is firm and insists I stay put, waving her hand. “Oh, we have help for that.”

I bite my lip to keep from laughing again. This family is so far removed from anything I’ve ever known. They definitely aren’t like my own.

We enjoy dessert and cocktails, and, after a few hours, I’m exhausted.

“Do you want to stay the night?” asks Daniel when he sees me yawn.

I hesitate for a second or two before I shake my head. “I’ve got a lot going on at work tomorrow and need to be there bright and early.”

There’s something in his eyes that I can’t quite put my finger on.

Disappointment? I can’t tell. But since it’s a long drive home, I know we better return tonight.

I don’t want to get up in the early hours of the morning and be exhausted from the drive before I even start my workday.

I’m sure he understands. But that look of disappointment, if that’s what it was, has me wondering all over again just what the status of our relationship is. We’re going to have to have The Talk―and soon.