“You know, horrible as it is being pregnant, it really is an incredible experience. You need to get moving if you’re going to have babies someday.”

“I have time,” I say, stretching my shoulders. “I was a late bloomer so my egg quality is way younger than it should be.”

“You can’t actually know that that’s true.”

“I absolutely can. I didn’t get my period until I was sixteen so when I’m thirty-four, my eggs are still going to be in their late twenties.”

“Did you really get it that late?”

“Yeah, I did. So even if you think I’m a spinster, my eggs are still sparkling young debutantes.”

“Fine,” Jen chuckles, “but even with your younger-than-average eggs, you still have to keep it rolling in the love department. At least you met a new guy.”

I fail to mention just how not new Ryan is as we sit down at the dining room table.

“I sure did,” I say instead. “Wish me luck.”

8

Things to do before Ryan gets here:

1. Tidy everything.
2. Dust everything.
3. Vacuum everything.
4. Buy healthy food to strategically place in the front of the refrigerator.
5. Move romance novels with mega-dirty titles out of the living room bookcase and into the bedroom bookcase.
6. Turn around romance novels on bookcases that have groping illustrations on the spine.
7. Put my published books on display.
8. Do laundry.
9. Hide granny panties (aka hide ninety-eight percent of all my panties).

Having managed to check off every item on the list I wrote out after the mad dash back to my apartment, I toss the piece of paper into the waste bin beside my desk. Ryan is officially in the building, on his way up at this very moment. All that’s left to do is get this freak show of an experience on the road.

As if on cue, there’s a loud knock on my door.

Here goes nothing.

I take a deep breath as I cross the room. Another echoing knock sounds out before I clutch the doorknob and swing the door open.

Ryan is standing there in jeans and a gray T-shirt, a travel bag on one shoulder and holding Duke’s leash in his right hand. Duke looks up at me like he’s moving in permanently. All that’s missing is a vintage, dog-sized luggage set.

“No backing out now, Sullivan.” Ryan readjusts the travel bag on his arm as my eyes are drawn from Duke to him.

“Wouldn’t dream of it. Come on in.”

“I think Duke needs some time to get acclimated first.” He squats down to give the dog a thorough petting. “All right, buddy, we may have been kidnapped and forced here against our will, but I’m sure we can survive for a few days.”

“Nice. And here I was thinking I did a good deed for everyone involved.”