Unfriended(Love in New Highland Book 1)(107)

By: Deana Farrady

Oh, and you will never believe who we ran into last year. Aura Renaldi! Well, that's not her last name anymore; I can't remember it right now; I was too busy staring at her when she told us. I just remember her hubby's a psychiatrist, which seems so perfect, you know? She's gained a bit of weight and she's become…wait for it…mellow.

Asher seemed really, really happy to see her. I had a freakout moment about that, I'm embarrassed to say, and we had a tiny—itty bitty—fight afterwards.

But I'm glad it happened, because a little part of me always wondered when things didn't work out as expected between Aura and Karl whether Asher ever had any regrets…but yeah, the answer to that would be no. Asher freaking adores me, which he totally should, since I adore him.

Adore. Worship. Revere. Yup. He is so. Fucking. Amazing. And I'm not just saying that because of the pregnancy hormones, which are, admittedly, pretty extreme. Or what he did with his mouth last night. (All in the interests of "getting them ready to give milk." He is so transparent. But OMG, it was goooooood.)

He really is the best. Despite my trying to explain again that the baby absolutely cannot hear yet, he insisted on giving our little guy that lecture on probability theory while holding his cheek against my uterus. Just. In. Case. Because for some reason, he thinks it's essential that kid #2 understands her odds of being a girl. Which I know are a hundred to one because I have The Gift, as I stated. As far as I'm concerned, this cat is totally out of the box. Erica could start buying pink. But whatever.


DID I JUST HEAR CHAR HAND you her there's-a-remote-possibility-we-might-not-live-happily-ever-after crap?

Yeah, you can go ahead and give that all the respect it deserves—none. I'm a hundred percent certain things will keep getting better, no matter what shit life throws at us. So far, though, all I'm seeing here is diamonds.

Even I, minor love deity that I am, didn't expect my life to rock this much after getting married, and it's not exactly on a downward trend.

I mean last Saturday after the dude fell asleep, she rubbed cinnamon butter all over her lips—hey, it's not my job to understand where preggo babes come up with this stuff—and put her mouth on my—fuck, was that the kid?

Fuck, I gotta go. Sounds like Char forgot to move the potty from the bedroom again and—ah, fuck. All over the fucking rug. Yeah, you know someone's getting tied up for this shit…

To My Husband