“Because I think I like you, Willow. We haven’t gotten a chance to know each other very well, but what I do know, I like.” He shrugged. “Also, remember that offer I made about ranting and venting to me if you wanted? This gives you time to do that.”
“You don’t have to do this. Really. I can always tell Daddy that you tried, and I said no.”
“Why would you do that?” Dean ducked his head and lowered his voice, and suddenly I was back in Pennsylvania, looking at him in the dim light of his car’s interior, both of us laughing until suddenly, we weren’t. There had been a moment then, a silent, heavy few seconds when we’d simply sat and stared at each other before I’d impulsively reached for him—
“Willow?” Dean roused me from my memory daydream. “I said, why would you do that?”
I shook my head. “I don’t know. I guess I wouldn’t.” I reached behind me for the doorknob. “If we’re going to walk, I need my coat. I’ll just run and get it.”
Dean’s smile was positively dazzling. “I’ll be waiting right here.”
* * *
“So how are you feeling?”
I chuckled, my eyes cast downward on the uneven sidewalk. “I guess I should get used to that question from everyone, shouldn’t I?” With a deep breath, I began my recitation. “I’m feeling pretty great now. The last of the nausea is over. Apparently, I’m now in the second trimester, aka the feel-good part of pregnancy, according to my obstetrician. She says it’s awesome because the sickness and fatigue of the first three months is gone, and the crap from the last three months isn’t here yet. So she advised me to enjoy myself while I can.”
Dean’s brow furrowed. “What’s the crap from the last three months? What’s the doctor talking about?”
“Oh, she didn’t lay it all on me, probably because she didn’t want me to jump out the window in her office. But she mentioned things like round-the-clock heartburn, a constant need to pee—because the baby’s sitting on my bladder, I guess—and other fun stuff like back pain and leaking boobs.”
“What?” Dean stopped walking. “You’re kidding, right? That doesn’t really happen.”
“Spend some time on pregnancy websites, pal, and find out for yourself.” I reached out to grasp his arm and tug. “C’mon. We’ve got to keep walking or my feet will freeze off.”
“Oh. Yeah, sure.”
We continued down the sidewalk. I was still holding onto Dean’s arm since the cement was both narrow and bumpy.
“Here.” He gripped my hand and pulled it into the crook of his elbow. “So you don’t fall.”
“Thanks.” My fingers curled into the stiff gray fabric of his coat. “My mother told me that cadets aren’t allowed to hold their girlfriends’ hands. Or boyfriends, I guess.”
Dean chuckled. “True story. No public displays of affection—or PDA—on post.” One side of his mouth quirked up. “That’s only at West Point. Off-post, we can do whatever we want as long as we’re not in uniform.”
“Huh. Have you ever found that to be a problem?” I was curious, and possibly the tiniest bit jealous of any girl who might have walked here with Dean, her hand in his arm.
“Nope. I haven’t dated since I’ve been a cadet, so it was never an issue.”
I tried to ignore the little fissure of glee dancing around my head. “Any reason why not?”
The shoulder of the arm I wasn’t holding moved up and down. “Never met anyone who interested me. Also, I didn’t want to risk losing focus on my classes, football . . . on being ready for my career in the army.”
“I actually understand that completely. When I first got here, my mom was kind of hinting that I should try to find a boyfriend while I was at West Point. I told her that I had plenty of time for something like that, after I was finished with my doctorate and worked a little. She said that there was no reason I couldn’t do all of that with a significant other.” I shook my head, giving a small, almost bitter laugh. “I didn’t know that I was already pregnant then. I was making grand plans that weren’t going to happen.”
“You don’t know that,” Dean argued. “You told me yourself that this is only a delay in your future.”
“Maybe,” I sighed. “I’m only optimistic about that every other day, and today must be the off day. Sorry.”
“Don’t apologize.” He nodded his head toward the large brick building just ahead of us. “Have you been inside the Thayer Hotel yet? We could go sit in the lobby. They’ve always got fires going in that massive fireplace. We can thaw out and rest a little.”
“That sounds perfect.”
Dean guided me up the narrow stone stairs that led to the front of the hotel. I’d been here once to help my mom deliver the baskets for the benefit, but we’d gone in the back that day. Now, as I looked around the lobby, I oohed in appreciation.
“This is beautiful.”
“It is, isn’t it?” Dean gazed around as though seeing it for the first time. “Cadets are only allowed to go as far as the mezzanine. When I was a plebe and got homesick or depressed, I’d come here sometimes, just to be in a place that felt a little normal.”
