I look down at my legs so I don’t have to see his face—so stark and honest-seeming, so hope-giving. I swallow and then whisper, “I don’t think that can be true.”

“Why not?” His eyes are warm and earnest as they find mine.

“Well, I mean…it could be true. You wanted sex.”

“Is that right?” I look at him, finding his face carefully neutral.

“Your beard is longer,” I whisper.

“No one to shave it for.” His mouth twitches in something like a sad smile, and my heart misses a beat.

“Well, unless you want me.” He smiles then, and it’s different than I’ve ever seen it. So…open.

I just can’t trust it. Even if I want to. “I feel like that would be really stupid of me. And a risk.” Since I got pregnant with this newest little bean, I’ve been feeling really risk-averse. Like I can barely hold my tattered heart inside my chest. Like I need to hibernate for winter and lick my wounds.

“That’s the point of it, though, right?” he says. “I think the risk is the part that matters most.”

I glare at him, even as my mouth is trying to betray me with a smile. “Who says that kind of shit? Did you start writing for the Hallmark Channel?”

“The Marley Channel. Used to be kind of porny. Now it’s pretty much all pies. But I like pies. In fact…would you like me to get you some of this pie? Maybe with a little ice cream?”

I blow my breath out. “I don’t have ice cream.”

“I bought some for you. It’s downstairs.”

“Why did you buy ice cream?” I whisper. I’m aware I’m being petulant and needy, but I can’t seem to help myself.

“I read it would be good for heartburn.”

“Did you have heartburn?”

Gabe laughs, then pulls me up against his chest. “C’mon now, woman. I’ve never seen Marley like this.” His finger traces my lower lip as he smiles right at me, as if to demonstrate the way it’s done. “No, I don’t have fucking heartburn. I got it for you.”

I start to cry. “My mom is dead, Gabe. You weren’t anywhere around. I’m pregnant and my mom is dead, and I’ve been sad,” I weep into my hands. I want to slap myself for being so emotional, but I just can’t seem to control my emotions.

“I was at your mom’s house, Marley. That’s what prompted you to faint.”

“I know that. But you weren’t there at the funeral.” I wipe my tears, furious at him and me, both.

“Actually, I was,” he says quietly. “You wore that dark blue dress with the flower pattern cut up here…” He gestures to his collar, looking sorry. “I had this idea that I’d stay until the end and take you home, but I saw you crying, and all I could think was I already made you pass out once.”

“So you left? Gabe…that’s stupid.” I laugh as I say it—but it is. “You just left?”

“I thought you needed space. That’s why I left the tree instead.” I can’t tell if he sounds regretful or defensive. He shakes his head, and I decide regretful, or maybe both. “When you never called or texted, I realized I fucked up.”

“So you tried to apologize with pies.” I say it accusingly, and Gabe looks down. “Yeah.”

I can’t hold in a tiny laugh. “That wasn’t that bad of a save.”

“It wasn’t?” His lips curve up at the corners.

“I guess not.” I sigh, dramatically, before giving him a full-on smile. “Pie makes everything better.”

And I guess Gabe takes that as his cue, because he wraps himself around me, pulling me against his chest and kissing my head. “Marley…I’m so fucking sorry…I fucked up. I wanted to tell you that night that I want to try this out. I want you, and I want to be with you.”

“Then it’s a good thing you sent those pies.” I wipe my eyes and nose, and then peer up at him.

“Victor’s mother made them.”

Hearing the word “mother” makes me flinch, and I can see the sorrow on Gabe’s face.

“It’s okay. I’m just…really sad still.”

“Fuck, Marley. Of course you fucking are.”

“It was unexpected, you know?” I say, wiping my eyes. “I mean, sort of.”

“I’m sorry about the pork chop.”

I laugh. “Oh, she didn’t care. I think we had take-out that night. That half-decent Italian place. Probably her last time eating food from there. Poor mama.”

“Mar, I’ve been a dick. In lots of ways.”

I don’t want to nod and kick Gabe when he’s already on his knees apologizing, so I let my gaze drift down his abs. I laugh, surprising myself with the sound. “Then maybe now it’s time to be a dick in the most important way.”

“Can we do that now? Like…now?” His eyes widen.

I laugh. “Of course.”

“Are you sure? It won’t…”

“It won’t do any of the weird things you’re thinking. I promise.”

Gabe hugs me again. I feel his lips rub over my hair as his hand traces along my spine. “You forgive me?”

“Maybe if you bring a few more pies.” I run my hand down his hip. “But something else could go a little ways toward winning me back, too.”

“Are you serious, Marley? You still—you’re not…done with this?” His voice is hoarse, which makes me love him.

“Hell no. Not yet, anyway. I want to see how this plays out, this crazy plan we have.”

He laughs. “I bet your friends think we’re both crazy.”

“I’m not sure if crazy is the word. If Kat wasn’t a fan of your books, I think there’s some chance you’d be down there in the cemetery.”

“Fuck.” He sighs. “I didn’t mean to fuck things up like that.”

“I know that now.”

Gabe digs for something in his pocket, pulling out his phone. “It’s almost Thanksgiving. You want to go away with me?”

My throat tightens as he holds his phone out, showing me… “Is that your plane?”

He smiles. “Would it help if it was?”

“Where can it fly?”

“Anywhere you want it to.”

“Really?” I laugh, giddy as a kid, and Gabe kisses my forehead. “Is it the plane or the pies? What’s got you grinning?”

“Can we bring a pie on the plane?”

He strokes my hip. “I know of one I’d like to taste…” And then his hand is slipping into my pants…behind my silky panties, and—“ahhh!”

I yelp because his finger on me is so intense, it’s almost electric.

“Oh, Gabe…” I grab onto him and notice his eyes are wide. His hand goes still on me. “No, it feels good. Like, extra good,” I pant.

“Come here…” He leads me to the bedroom, where he spreads me out, crawls between my legs, and peels my underwear off. “Jesus, Marley.” His eyes come to meet mine. “Are you positive?”

“That we can do this?” I laugh. “Yes. The whole way through. And at the end, sex can make the baby come.”

He laughs hoarsely. “Don’t tell me that.”

“Chicken?”

“Hell yeah.”

I reach for his pants. “I think I can do some things to ease your fears…”

* * *

“So…what do you think?”

Marley and I are standing on the tarmac up in Auburn, which has the nearest airport, and she’s gaping at my jet.

“I can’t believe this thing is really yours.” She grins. “Does it have a name?”

I nod. “Marley’s Baby.”

Her eyes widen, then she punches my arm. “You liar.”

I shrug. “You don’t know my life.”

She giggles. “Yes I do.” I watch her gaze wander the length of the plane. “What kind is it?”

I shrug. “Just a jet.”

“It’s weird, because I don’t feel like you own a jet.”

I laugh. “How do you feel?”

“I don’t know.” She tilts her head. “You seem so normal.”

“Well, I’d say you’re clearly off-track there.” I smirk, and Marley snuggles up against me.

“What do you think?” I ask. “You want to go inside?”

She squeals. “Yes! I’m such a plebeian. You’re losing cool points right now with your crew for your girl’s lack of chill.” She nods at the pilot standing by the door. “I’ve never been on someone’s private jet before,” she whisper-hisses.

I take her hand. “Well, here’s your chance.”

My pilot, Boomer, treats her kindly, winking at me over her head, and the stewardess, a friendly older woman named Matilda, oohs and aahs over her, then asks, behind her back, “Is this your girlfriend?”

I just smile.

The plane is big as far as jets go, and it’s designed so much of it is bedroom. I lead Marley to the bed, and she lies down and grins up at the rounded ceiling. “Should I nap as we take off?”

“If you want to.” I lie down behind her, drape a hand over her belly. “Is it strange I want this to get bigger?” I ask near her ear. “And these?” I stroke her breast, piquing a nipple.

I can hear her smile in her voice, “I don’t think so. I think it’s a common fetish.”

“You calling me a plebian?”

“You know I am.”

I leave Marley with a kiss and go touch base with Boomer. I tell him our destination, and he says, “Are you sure? No Paris or Italy?”

I shake my head. “Maybe there next time.”

I return to find Marley actually asleep, which makes me laugh—quietly.

I’m skeptical that she can sleep through take-off, but I climb up on the smallish bed and wrap myself around her again, and she does. She doesn’t awaken until the punching sound of our wheels coming down. As soon as she realizes she slept through the flight, she smacks me. “You should have woken me up!” She pulls a tiny curtain back, revealing a round window, but of course, it’s dark. It was dark when we left Auburn.

“Oh my God, Gabe…” She turns to me with her mouth open. “We’re in New York!”

“Almost.”

I can feel the question in her, even as she coos at all the lights below. I bet she’s dying to ask why.

“New York is beautiful. I’ve only been once, but I love it.”

Pretty soon we’re walking off the plane, climbing into my waiting car.

“It smells so good in here. Like new.”

I don’t tell her this car is new. I had my former assistant sell the one I shared with Madeline.

“It’s just an M5. Pretty regular stuff.”

She snorts. “That’s a surprise.” I pull onto the road and Marley takes my hand. “Where are we going, sugar daddy?”

I chuckle. “To get pie.”

Marley’s face tells me she doesn’t trust me—and for once, I’m glad. I smile, and when she asks again, I shrug. “I thought you liked a man with mystique…”