Lyla
I sat in Paul's car in front of my house, my hands folded protectively over my growing belly as an uncomfortable silence stretched between us. The afternoon had started innocently enough.
I'd gone to farmer's market to pick out some fresh vegetables because I was craving it. I also didn't want to go with Ramsey. The last time I went with him, the women had swooned around him, asking for his number.
Some of the bold ones even took pictures.
The only thing that had stopped me from actually fighting that day was how Ramsey had ignored every one of them, focusing on me. I'd left the market with open glares from the women.
Coincidentally, I ran into Paul after I finished shopping, nearly three days after he'd visited us, and he offered to drive me home.
Now I was beginning to regret accepting his offer.
I turned toward Paul, managing a polite smile.
"Thank you for bringing me home," I said, reaching for the door handle. "I appreciate you taking the time to—"
