“Talk to me, Dakota.”

“I want this to work, us to work. In here, out there.”

He traced her eyes until she opened them.

“I’m afraid I’ll open my eyes and you’ll be gone.”

Walt rested his forehead against hers. “I put that fear in your head. If I could take it all back I would.”

“I’m not trying to beat you with it. But I need to be honest. I have nothing to lose by being honest with you.”

“I’m in this, Dakota. Whatever we want us to be, I’m in.”

“I’ve never been this insecure.”

He kissed her, let his lips linger. “I’m not going anywhere.”

“I’m going to get fat.” She wasn’t sure where those words came from, but they were blurted out without a filter.

“Pregnant and sexy. I’ll make love to you every night.”

“You live in Pomona and I’m in Orange County.”

“I’ll move in with you . . . or you can move in with me. I don’t care where we live.”

She felt tears stinging her eyes. “I hate being so emotional. I feel like I’m crying all the time.”

“Hormones are pesky things that muck up an otherwise normal day.” He kissed her again and rolled onto his back, pulling her with him.

Dakota settled into his side and closed her eyes. “I think you should move in with me. Mary’s across the street and I might need her around when you’re in Florida.”

“I’ll take care of everything when we get home.”

“Aren’t you scared?”

“No, Dakota. It feels like we’re doing the right thing.”

It did. Baby steps to move life forward.

The weight of sleep closed in and she sighed. “I’m still wearing my boots.”

Walt’s chest moved as he started to laugh. “God, that’s hot.”

Chapter Twenty-One

They’d barely made it back to California, packed up Walt’s life in Pomona, and moved it to her home before he had to leave.

Dakota dragged Mary from her bed early and forced her presence on a morning walk.

“You’re pushing the friendship card.”

“Suck it up. Walt has only been gone three days and I’ve gained four pounds. How is that possible?”

“You’re pregnant.”

It was cold, for Southern California, both of them wore sweatshirts and sunglasses. “But four pounds?”

“You haven’t gained anything yet. Are you even wearing your fat clothes?”

Dakota rubbed her belly. “My waist is pushing past the first button.”

“Reason to shop if you ask me.”

“I think you’re right. My sweatpants are only going to work for so long.” Mary laughed and Dakota smiled. “I’m just happy I’m not sick every morning.”

They rounded a corner and walked up another couple of blocks. “Have you guys told Walt’s parents yet?”

“We? Ah, no . . . Walt said he’d take care of that this week.”

“Walt, the procrastinator, will take care of it.” Mary didn’t sound convinced.

“He has to. I told Desi last week and I’m going to go public with the information before Surrender is released. His sister follows me online.”

“Are you still going to tour?”

“I don’t see why not. I’m going to skip Europe. Make a special trip after the baby is born. I’m told long flights in your third trimester are awful.”

“Maybe you can hook a deal with the Fairchilds and score some of that private plane action.”

“Have you been talking to Walt?”

“No, but if that’s what he’s planning, I’m totally going with you.”

They reached their normal walking turning point and headed home. “Speaking of the Fairchilds, whatever happened with you and Glen?”

“What do you mean, what happened? Glen lives a zillion miles away.”

“He flies his own planes.”

Mary grew silent.

“What are you not telling me?”

“Not everyone wants to date a psychologist.”

“Oh, Mary . . . you didn’t.”

Mary moved faster. “I analyze people. It’s what I do.”

“How many times do I have to tell you to leave the clinician at home when you’re getting to know someone? It’s amazing you’ve ever gotten laid.”

“I’m not that bad.”

“Yes, you are. Glen was seriously hot and his eyes were all over you in Florida. Even long-distance booty calls are better than nothing.”

Waving a finger in the air, Mary said, “Battery-operated boyfriends don’t need to be analyzed.”

“You’re right. They don’t talk back and they never let you down. Might as well get yourself a half a dozen cats and live happily-ever-after.”

“I don’t like cats.”

They both jogged across the street, slowed their pace once they hit the last hill.

“Fine, dogs, or birds . . . collect raccoons for all I care.”

“This is classic,” Mary told her. “You’re hooking up, have a baby on the way, and you think I need that, too.”

“I wouldn’t wish an unplanned pregnancy on anyone, least of all you. So get that out of your head. I’m coming to terms with it, but it hasn’t been easy. What I’m talking about is sex for sex’s sake. You might fall into a great pattern of release and relaxation if you hooked up with, let’s say, Glen, once in a while. In order to do that you’ll have to stop asking about his parents and past relationships . . . his childhood.”