I didn't have a chance to say anything else before Astrid stalked over.
“Finn will get bored of you,” she hissed as Harold darted over to accompany Millicent to their car. “He’s congenitally incapable of staying interested in one woman, especially one who does not stimulate him intellectually.”
I am a vessel of love and peaceI reminded myself, but apparently peace was going to mean making sure Astrid didn't fuck with me any more.
“I didn’t hear him complaining about needingintellectual stimulationwhen he had his head between my thighs this morning,” I retorted.
She gasped, and to my surprise, she began to whimper.
“Just—please don’t have sex with him,” she begged. “I’ll introduce you to anyone else you want, I promise. Just—not Finn! Please pleaseplease please pleasenot my ex. I can’t bear to see it.”
“Are you trying to keep him as backup?” I asked, stunned at her stupidity.
But just then, a shadow passed across the sun and I looked up in astonishment to see an enormous golden hot air balloon hovering above us.
What thehell
Then Finn’s head popped over the side and he swung himself over the rope ladder, descending from the balloon like an action star, giving Astrid and I a great view of his well-shaped ass in tight jeans as he climbed down. When he was halfway, he turned to me with that gleaming grin.
“Marry me, Indigo,” he called, holding out a little velvet box to me.
It was open, and even from halfway up the ladder I saw it sparkle with an obscenely huge diamond.
His eyes shone at me, and I opened my mouth to reply, when suddenly Ambrose darted in between us.
CHAPTER 8
Ambrose
This couldn’t be real.
It wasn’t that I wasjealousof Finn.
Was I absolutely sick of hearing about him from Astrid, particularly her need to analyze every aspect of their relationship?Yes.
But it was more that I knew Indi very well and knew he was athoroughlyunacceptable choice for her.
If I could justtalkto Indi—tellher that Finn was a very unsuitable person—
I had been formulating the words for days, trying the find the right ones.
But it was difficult to approach this situation after I had been caught in my ex-wife’s curtains. Unfortunately, I feared she had taken entirely the wrong interpretation of my actions.
Unlike whatFinnsaid, I was not being creepy or a pervert or obsessed. How was I supposed to know they were going to have sex when I came to check on Indi?
I had been motivated by a very honorable need to make sure she was OK.
But I simply could not accept this whole situation. And neither could Astrid.
“How could Finn be the father of her baby?” my fiancée demanded for the hundredth time. “When he was withme, he said he never wanted kids.”
She was putting on makeup for the first birthing class, very aggressively, dotting the sponge so hard on her face that little puffs of powder blew into her eyes.
“Maybe it was not planned,” I said, wondering why her eyes were so red. It looked like she had been crying. But she never cried. “Maybe it was a spontaneous thing.”
But somehow the idea of Finn and Indi being so overcome with passion that her pregnancy had been a wild and unexpected surprise, made me feel somewhat nauseated.
Astrid did not seem to like it either, flipping her makeup case shut with a snap and brushing past me angrily.
