Veronica

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Sixteen months later…

“Oh my God, babe, that smells ridiculous.” I leaned over my husband’s shoulder as he pulled the turkey out to baste it for about the bazzilionth time.

“In a good way, right?”

I snorted. “Yes, yes, give it to me. Now.”

“Good lord, you are ravenous.” He shut the oven door and straightened.

“Have you forgotten about this? It’s like you don’t realize how much more of me there is to feed right now.”

His hand settled on my belly and he did that little sigh thing I’d become addicted to recently before turning to whisper in my ear. “Oh, I haven’t forgotten. I’m crazy about this belly.”

He nipped me and I had to lean into him—just for a second or two—before my phone rang.

“Weirdo,” I whispered with a smile.

“Mm hm. No way. You can say whatever you want, but your pregnant body is the hottest thing I’ve felt in my entire life.”

I shivered, because it was true. I’d been on fire for the past four months. Well, between the bouts of sickness. But in the sack… my God, these hormones made me wild.

My phone rang again, shaking me out of what would probably have ended in someone getting oral sex. And, if it had been anything like the last time, that someone would have been me.

“Dammit, where’s my phone?” I pushed away from him, toward the dining room, where the table was already set for eight people. And there it was, beside a place setting. I glanced at the phone… Not a number I knew, but I answered anyway.

“Honeysuckle Fund.”

“Oh, good. I didn’t know if you’d answer on Thanksgiving. But I knew you’d want to know.”

My nerves went wild. “Hang on.” I leaned over and stage-whispered to Zach. “It’s Marian, from the school.”

He walked over and stood beside me, so I put the speaker on.

“We’re both here, Marian, go ahead.”

“You did it!” She was gleeful. “I mean, this isn’t official, cause nobody at the Capitol’s working today, but I talked to Bruce Herndon, and we’ve got approval. With your funding and support, the school lunch program’s happening and—” Marian paused while I whooped and jumped into Zach’s arms.

I thanked her and got off the phone, turned to my man and told him with tears in my eyes, just how much I loved him.

“Every kid in the state, babe.”

He smiled and wove his fingers into the hair at the side of my head.

“Nobody goes hungry.” He leaned in and kissed me hard. “Thanks to you,” he said against my lips.

“No, you.”

“No, you.”

“Oh, God, are we—”

The phone rang again. O’Neal.

I put it to my ear, opened my mouth, ready to tell her the good news and stopped. Was she crying?

“Can’t make it, V. I’m sorry.” She hiccupped and carried on, her voice weirdly nasal. “Tell your man I’m sorry. I know his turkey’s supposed to be the bees’ knees’, but I’m—“

“What’s wrong?”

She stopped, inhaled hard.

“I…I can’t talk about it.” She blew her nose, breathed for a few seconds and then went on. “I…Jesus, this is crazy, right?”

I had no idea what she was talking about, but this was so unlike her that it was like navigating in foreign lands. “Go on.”

“I… Christ. I…met someone.”

I stiffened. “What happened? You need Zach to—”

“No! No, no, it’s not like that. He’s just. Oh God, I spent two days with him and I think I love him.”

“And…”

“And, he’s not in a place for me right now.”

I bristled at that. Not in a place for the strongest, most steadfast women I’d ever known? That sounded like crap to me. Excuses.

“Listen, come anyway and we’ll—”

“No. No, I can’t.” She cleared her throat and came back on sounding more like herself. “Sorry, but I need some alone time.”

“You’re sure.”

“Yeah. Yeah, I am.”

“Okay, sweetie. I’ll drive you something to eat later and…” She tried to interrupt, but I talked through her. “Don’t even mess with the pregnant woman, lady. You know how crazy I am right now.”

She let out a soggy half-laugh. “Yeah. Yeah, I do.” After a pause. “Thanks, V. You’re the best friend in the world.”

“No, you are.” She laughed again. “We’re both pretty awesome, I guess.” I smiled. “But tomorrow, you’d better prepare for me to show up with wine and ice cream. Because that’s how best friends roll when these things happen, got it?”

“You’re on.”

“All right. Call if you need anything. And I’ll see you later.”

“Thanks, V.”

I hung up and looked at Zach, whose brow was drawn into that sweet little n-shape I couldn’t stop licking.

“She met a guy.”

“Uh oh.” His expression was almost comically worried.

“Yeah.”

“No more love him and leave hims, then?”

“I guess not. I don’t know the details, but it sounds like this one’s different.”

He smiled. “Good. I like O’Neal. She deserves to be happy.”

“Ha! You like her ‘cause you know she went to bat for you.”

“She also convinced you to stick with the campaign.”

“True. But shouldn’t I do something? She sounds terrible.”

He shrugged and made his way back to the kitchen when a timer went off. “She’ll be fine. I have a feeling about this.”

I stiffened, with a shiver of unease. “A bad one?”

“No, baby. A really, really good one. Like you arriving on my porch one day and turning my life inside out feeling.”

My man had feelings about things. Oh wow, I needed to squeeze him right that second.

I wrapped myself around him from behind, exactly like a honeysuckle vine on one of our fence posts, snuggled my face into his broad back, and smiled. Because when my man had feelings—about strange women or shady political opponents, or whatever else tweaked his radar, he was pretty much always right.

Keep reading for a sneak peak of O’Neal’s story,

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Meet Ivan, ex-con blacksmith with a heart of gold in , book 1 in the gritty, emotional Blank Canvas series,