CHAPTER ONE
‡
O LIVIA
“P rofessor Hottie alert.”
Allie’s call rises up the stairs of the Wonderland Café. I leave a pile of birthday party bags on one of the tables in the Wicked Witch’s Castle room and peer out the window. My husband is standing across the street, his tall figure a welcome and familiar sight after a long day at work. Just as I start to ease back from the window, he looks up. Our eyes meet with a spark that kindled into life six years ago and still flares sunshine-bright.
Dean lifts a hand in greeting. I wave at him and head downstairs. Allie is in the reception area, fluffing out her curly red hair with one hand as she pulls open the front door with the other.
“He looks like he’s ready for a night out,” she remarks, nodding to where Dean is crossing the street. “I hope he’s taking you somewhere special.”
“Very special.” I shrug into my coat. “We’re going to a childbirth education class.”
Allie gives a little sigh of happiness. “How romantic.”
I smile at her before turning to the door. My heart does a little twirl as I watch Dean climb the front porch steps. Having just come from the university, he’s wearing a navy suit and striped tie that somehow has remained unwrinkled despite the fact that it’s past six in the evening. With his thick, brown hair burnished by the streetlights, the masculine planes of his face etched with dusky shadows, he looks both gorgeous and somewhat dangerously sexy. Then he smiles, and his dark eyes crinkle at the corners, and he’s my Dean again, all heat and tenderness.
“Hey, beauty.” He brushes his lips across my cheek and slides one hand down to my round belly. “All set?”
“All set.”
Dean lifts his head to glance at Allie. “Hey, Allie. How’s it going?”
“Just fine, thanks.” As usual, Allie blushes a little when Dean talks to her.
“Just let me get my things.” I squeeze Dean’s arm and head to the front counter, where I’d left my satchel.
When I return, Dean is speaking to Allie in a low tone, which—as his voice usually does—has her gazing at him raptly. She says something in response, then glances up at my approach and gives me a bright smile.
“You guys have a great evening, okay?” she says, waving us toward the door. “Remember if it’s a girl, the name Allison would be a perfect fit.”
“And we’ll change our last name to Wonderland,” Dean promises.
Allie grins, and we say our goodbyes before heading outside.
If it’s a girl . We don’t know if we’re having a boy or a girl yet. At Dean’s suggestion, we decided to wait until opening night to find out, though that has made my nursery-decorating ideas and baby-stuff purchases varying shades of green and yellow.
Dean takes my satchel as we walk to his car parked halfway down the block. Black-clad witches, grinning jack-o-lanterns, and spooky ghosts cover the windows of the shops lining Avalon Street. October in Mirror Lake is crisp and clear as glass, the trees ablaze with red and gold leaves, the downtown streets bustling with activity. Though the Wonderland Café has built up a steady clientele since our June grand opening, business picked up even more when families returned to town after summer vacations.
After we get into the car, Dean drives to the health office on the campus of King’s University. I’m well into my sixth month, and everything has progressed smoothly on the baby front. My girth has increased, of course, I need to pee a lot, and I had to buy a few new pairs of shoes since my old ones no longer fit. My back hurts, and I have to sleep with four pillows to be comfortable. But the baby is fine, my bloodwork is fine, and there is no reason for me to be worried about anything.
Except, you know, giving birth.
I’m not a fan of the weekly childbirth classes, even if there are free cookies and milk. The instructor, Mary, is a lovely, soft-spoken nurse who has been with Labor and Delivery for over twenty-five
‡
O LIVIA
“P rofessor Hottie alert.”
Allie’s call rises up the stairs of the Wonderland Café. I leave a pile of birthday party bags on one of the tables in the Wicked Witch’s Castle room and peer out the window. My husband is standing across the street, his tall figure a welcome and familiar sight after a long day at work. Just as I start to ease back from the window, he looks up. Our eyes meet with a spark that kindled into life six years ago and still flares sunshine-bright.
Dean lifts a hand in greeting. I wave at him and head downstairs. Allie is in the reception area, fluffing out her curly red hair with one hand as she pulls open the front door with the other.
“He looks like he’s ready for a night out,” she remarks, nodding to where Dean is crossing the street. “I hope he’s taking you somewhere special.”
“Very special.” I shrug into my coat. “We’re going to a childbirth education class.”
Allie gives a little sigh of happiness. “How romantic.”
I smile at her before turning to the door. My heart does a little twirl as I watch Dean climb the front porch steps. Having just come from the university, he’s wearing a navy suit and striped tie that somehow has remained unwrinkled despite the fact that it’s past six in the evening. With his thick, brown hair burnished by the streetlights, the masculine planes of his face etched with dusky shadows, he looks both gorgeous and somewhat dangerously sexy. Then he smiles, and his dark eyes crinkle at the corners, and he’s my Dean again, all heat and tenderness.
“Hey, beauty.” He brushes his lips across my cheek and slides one hand down to my round belly. “All set?”
“All set.”
Dean lifts his head to glance at Allie. “Hey, Allie. How’s it going?”
“Just fine, thanks.” As usual, Allie blushes a little when Dean talks to her.
“Just let me get my things.” I squeeze Dean’s arm and head to the front counter, where I’d left my satchel.
When I return, Dean is speaking to Allie in a low tone, which—as his voice usually does—has her gazing at him raptly. She says something in response, then glances up at my approach and gives me a bright smile.
“You guys have a great evening, okay?” she says, waving us toward the door. “Remember if it’s a girl, the name Allison would be a perfect fit.”
“And we’ll change our last name to Wonderland,” Dean promises.
Allie grins, and we say our goodbyes before heading outside.
If it’s a girl . We don’t know if we’re having a boy or a girl yet. At Dean’s suggestion, we decided to wait until opening night to find out, though that has made my nursery-decorating ideas and baby-stuff purchases varying shades of green and yellow.
Dean takes my satchel as we walk to his car parked halfway down the block. Black-clad witches, grinning jack-o-lanterns, and spooky ghosts cover the windows of the shops lining Avalon Street. October in Mirror Lake is crisp and clear as glass, the trees ablaze with red and gold leaves, the downtown streets bustling with activity. Though the Wonderland Café has built up a steady clientele since our June grand opening, business picked up even more when families returned to town after summer vacations.
After we get into the car, Dean drives to the health office on the campus of King’s University. I’m well into my sixth month, and everything has progressed smoothly on the baby front. My girth has increased, of course, I need to pee a lot, and I had to buy a few new pairs of shoes since my old ones no longer fit. My back hurts, and I have to sleep with four pillows to be comfortable. But the baby is fine, my bloodwork is fine, and there is no reason for me to be worried about anything.
Except, you know, giving birth.
I’m not a fan of the weekly childbirth classes, even if there are free cookies and milk. The instructor, Mary, is a lovely, soft-spoken nurse who has been with Labor and Delivery for over twenty-five
Similar Books
