8. Emily

Chapter eight

Emily

E ither the Gremlin Baby is at the "sucking all life out of me" stage of gestation or the weirdness of the previous day was harder on me than I thought, because I wake up to the alarm on my phone going off in an otherwise silent and dark room. I must have gotten up at some point in the night because the lights and TV are off. Add sleepwalking to the list of weird pregnancy things, I guess.

I drag myself into the shower, do the bare minimum needed not to be a menace to society, throw on a dress, and head out to the shop. I don't know how my fellow corporate preggos do it–wearing real shoes every day. My house shoes are even tight at this point.

Thankfully, things seem back to normal at the shop. A half dozen orders came in overnight, including a funeral that will take me the entire afternoon if I hustle. I shoo Sir Jon off the counter and start on my first bouquet of the day. Soon am lost in the zone of creation. Working with flowers is easy–a lot easier than dealing with or understanding people. I always figured owning my own business would be hard because I had no experience in finance, but the hardest part has been the customer service side.

Things are quiet for most of the morning. A woman stops in to grab one of the ready-made bouquets I keep in the window, and a bridal consultant comes by to pick up my current price guide and vent about her latest bridezilla. Other than that, it's just been me, Gremlin Baby, Sir Jon, and the flowers. By one, A.J.'s picked up all the orders that have to go out today and I'm out of snacks.

I really need to get working on the funeral order, but thoughts of cheesecake call to me. Mario's is just down the street, and a walk will do me good. I flip the open sign to closed and head into the too-bright March day in just my dress. Normally, I'd freeze in this type of weather, but Gremlin Baby is like my own personal heater. I'm sweltering at all hours of the day and night.

"Em! How are you today, love?" Lola asks, as I waddle my way into the bakery. I smile at the older lady's question. I don't remember my mother. She died before I turned four. But I like to hope that she would be like Lola–bright and kind. She comes around the counter and hugs me quickly before heading back to the cash register. "The usual today, sweetheart?"

"Actually, can I get a sandwich too? One of your BLTs?"

"Anything else, deary?"

"Nope, that will take up all the room my stomach has left these days."

Lola chuckles and rings up my order as I dig in my bag for my card.

"I've got it," says a familiar voice from behind me. I turn to find my giant hyperallergic werewolf standing behind me. Unlike yesterday, he doesn't appear to be in any distress. Like yesterday, he's incredibly hot. So hot that I forget for a second to speak.

Finally, I spit out, "Oh, uh, thank you, but I've got it."

He steps between me and the register then hands his card directly to Lola, who just smiles. "I insist. It's the least I can do after the scene I caused yesterday."

Lola looks at me, and I nod in defeat before turning to him. "That's very kind of you."

"I went by the shop to apologize just now but saw you walking in here. I hope you don't mind. I've always meant to stop in here but never had the time."

I try to smile through the awkwardness. "No, not at all."

"Would you mind keeping me company while I grab a quick lunch myself?"

I'm tempted to lie and say I need to head back to the shop but as his eyes meet mine, my heart rate picks up ever so slightly and any words I have in my brain escape. I swear his eyes flash black again, just like yesterday, but it's there and gone before I can even really track it. He smiles and points to a table in the corner. "Will that table work?"

I nod, unable to say much as he puts a hand on my lower back and guides me where he wants me. His hand is huge. It seems to stretch the entire width of my back, the warmth of it pressing through the thin material of my dress. Suddenly, every hormone in my body takes over, and I'm acutely aware of every single finger resting against me. My thoughts take a turn no one as big as me has any business entertaining. Pregnancy is wild.

What would those fingers feel like in other places under this dress?

My face grows hot as my mind runs with that thought. A low growl issues from the wolf, ripping me and my mind out of the gutter. I look up at him in surprise.

He clears his throat loudly and pulls a chair out for me. "Sorry, not growling at you," he assures me. "Wolves sound weird when they have a cold, or allergies, in this case."

"I'm so sorry about all that yesterday."

He shakes his head. "No need to apologize. See? I'm prepared." He pulls out a small package of tissues and a tiny tub of menthol rub. "I took all of my allergy medication, too, just for this visit."

I huff a laugh. "That is a lot to endure for just an apology. Especially when you did nothing wrong."

"I walked into a flower shop knowing full well how much flowers affect me."

"Still, uh, I'm sorry. I don't think you ever told me your name."

He holds a hand out for me to shake. "Easton. Easton Degarmo."

I take his giant hand in mine and shake it, biting my lip to keep the gasp that wants to escape from leaving my lips. Degarmo? Of the Degarmo crime family? That name can't be that common, can it? Am I having lunch with a murderer?

My heart rate picks up as a growl from Easton turns into a coughing fit. I jump up and grab him a glass of water from the self-serve fountain, setting it next to him carefully. He picks it up, gulps it down, then clears his throat again.

"Thank you."

"You know, it's probably me setting your allergies off. I wear aprons but I'm sure I'm covered in pollen. If you'd like to take your food to go…"

He shakes his head. "No, no. It's inescapable this time of year, honestly. I just stay inside as much as possible next to the air purifier."

I nod. "I should get one for the shop. I'll have to put that on the list for after things settle down when the Gremlin Baby gets here."

His eyes drop to my belly for the first time. "Is it rude to ask when you're due?"

"Only if I'm not pregnant," I smile. "I've got six weeks left. Though they say first babies are often late, so we could go into overtime."

"Do you have a name picked out yet?"

I shake my head. "Nope. I don't even know whether it's a boy or girl…I decided not to find out. I guess I'll just have to wait and see what he or she looks like when they get here."

"Dad doesn't mind?"

I'm not sure why, but that question pricks something in the back of my mind. Do I admit to a possible mafia werewolf crime lord that I don't have a guy? Does that even matter to someone at his level? I mean, he's not breaking into people's homes and stealing TVs with an expensive suit like that. I decide to just roll with it. It's not a secret. It's information he could probably get out of anyone.

"No, dad. Well, obviously, there was a dad. I'm not a shark, but this gremlin's sperm donor peaced out as soon as I told him about the pregnancy, and I haven't seen him since."

"I'm sorry to hear that."

I shrug. "Well, you know, that's men for you. No offense."

He chuckles as my face turns red once again. I'm doing so well. No wonder I'm a single mom. "None taken."

Thankfully, Lola saves me from further embarrassment by setting our plates down with a super obvious secret wink in my direction. I pretend not to notice and dig into my food. I can't say dumb things if my mouth is full. Or can I?

"So how's the floral business?" he asks after his first bite.

"It's going…"

"That good, huh?"

I smile. "I was just na?ve, I guess. I knew it'd be hard work, and I had a lot to learn, but I thought working with flowers would make it better. I spend most of my days haggling with bridezillas or making multiples of the same arrangements so men can keep their wives and girlfriends in the dark. But it's flexible, so hopefully I'll still be able to keep it going after the baby gets here."

"No family?"

I shake my head. Should I really be telling him all this? But there's something about his eyes and the way he looks at me with an intense interest that keeps my dumb mouth moving.

"I have a best friend, Angie. She'll be with me in the delivery room. My parents are dead. I have a brother, Neil, but he's the kind of person who's only out for himself."