“Want to have coffee?”
“Something warm to drink does sound perfect right now.”
Her entire face lights up. “And maybe something sweet to go with it?”
“I’m game if you are.”
Haisley laughs. “Since I got pregnant, I can’t go a day without eating something sweet.”
“Let’s go then. We can’t let our baby be hungry.”
We decide on a small, cozy coffee shop only a few minutes’walk away. As we approach the door, I hold it open for her. “Go ahead, Mama.”
She pauses in the doorway, a little stunned in her expression. “I love the sound of that.Mama.”
“That’s what you are now,” I point out. “You’re growing a future hockey star.”
“Maybe they’ll want to play the piano or paint or be a figure skater instead.”
I laugh as I lead us to an empty table. “Figure skating’s not bad. It’s similar to hockey but with sequins and more choreographed movements.”
Haisley snorts, the sound music to my ears. “You’re impossible.”
As we sit down, I reach for her hand across the small table, brushing my thumb against her knuckles.
“Seriously, though,” I say, my voice dropping into a more sincere tone. “Whatever this kid wants to do—hockey, piano, being a freaking astronaut—I’ll be there cheering them on. You know that, right?”
A gentle laugh escapes her, and she squeezes my hand. “I do. Our kid will be blessed with two supportive parents.”
“That’s right.” I release her hand and look at the menu. “What’s good here?”
She hums, scanning the options even though I suspect she already knows what she wants. “I love their blueberry scones with tea. They do daily house blends.”
I stand up. “Alright, then. I’ll get us both that.”
Walking to the counter, I glance back and admire her secretly. I wonder if she notices how easily I get lost looking at her.
I place the order and on impulse add little chocolate squares to the tray. Carrying our snacks back to the table, the scent of fresh scones makes my stomach growl.
Haisley takes her tea, her hands wrapping around the warm cup. “You should decide what to get me as a push present.”
I frown, my brows pulling together. “What the heck is a push present?”
“Something you buy for me to thank me for pushing.”
“Pushing what?”
She gives me a pointed look, gesturing toward her stomach and then at her crotch. “Your offspring.”
It takes a few seconds to process her words, but when it finally clicks, my mouth parts in realization. “Wait a minute.”
“I don’t have all day,” Haisley teases, bringing the cup to her plump lips.
For a long moment, I stare at her before throwing my head back with a deep, full-bodied laugh that makes a few other coffee shop visitors glance our way. I don’t care. This is too good.
“Is this a real thing, or are you messing with me?” I ask, still grinning.
“Oh, it’s real,” Haisley assures me, biting back a smile that makes me suspicious. “And the longer you take to accept it, the more expensive my present becomes.”
