That Baby: A Small Town, Friends-to-Lovers Romance (That Boy Series Book 3)

Dear Baby Mac,

I haven’t written in here for, like, six weeks, but work and life have been kinda crazy. I won’t bore you with the work details, but I will say that I’ve been putting in some really long hours.

It’s interesting though, how you’re growing inside me as the building I designed is taking shape. It’s almost metaphorical, sorta. Honestly, I’m not sure that’s even the right word. I just mean, your growth is sort of paralleling the building’s growth.

Speaking of growth! We had another ultrasound a couple of weeks ago. You’ve grown a lot since we first saw you!

You are now weighing in at about a pound and a half and are measuring nine inches long. You’re developing senses, like touch, sight, hearing, and taste.

Your daddy still talks to you every night before we go to sleep. It’s so sweet. And it’s exciting, knowing that you can hear him. That you will recognize our voices after you are born. He also lays his hand on my stomach because he wants to feel you kick.

So far, he hasn’t. But you do kick when you hear his voice. When he comes into the room, sometimes, you’ll give me a swift kick. I wonder if you’re dancing around in there or just excited, like Angel is when she runs around the couch when Daddy comes home.

Speaking of Angel, I told Mr. Diamond that he should sue the breeder for false advertisement. She might look like an angel when she gives you her big puppy-dog eyes, but she is not.

This past weekend, your daddy and I were planting flowers in the backyard. We did one side and then moved on to the other. Angel had been just aimlessly running around, yipping at ducks and geese and chasing the daredevil squirrels. She came running over to me and gave me a muddy kiss. I turned around to pet her and saw that she had dug up all the flowers we had just planted. She ran over to the dug-up mess, grabbed an uprooted flower, then bounded over with it, and dropped it at your dad’s feet. She was very proud of herself.

So, after giving her a bath and drying her off, I opened the basement door. She went running inside, jumped on her blankie, and looked up at me with adorable, sleepy eyes. She had her head down and was asleep before I ever went back outside.

I was outside for a total of five minutes, finishing planting the flat of flowers we were working on while your dad cussed up a storm, replanting the dug-up ones. When I came in the house to get him a beer, I was greeted with fluff and feathers.

And not just any cheap fluff.

We’re talking down.

Angel had apparently not stayed asleep on the blanket. Instead, she’d decided to chew up/destroy my pillows. And the dog has good taste. She didn’t mess with my cheap Target throw pillows. No, she’d chosen the ones that came with the couch. Pillows that cost about two hundred dollars a piece to replace. But we won’t tell Daddy that!

Needless to say, Angel is not ready to be alone in the house. She’s also nearly chewed up the desk leg in your dad’s assistant’s office. Angel comes to work with us pretty much all the time now, and Daddy’s assistant has a jar of mini dog treats on her desk.

And Angel’s smart. She’s learning to go from office to office—like she’s trick-or-treating or something—whenever she gets a whiff of food.

She’s become a junk-food junkie.

I keep telling people not to feed her, but they can’t resist her adorable begging.

She also ate four wadded-up pieces of paper from my trash can the other day. Thankfully, paper is biodegradable, and the vet assured us it wouldn’t harm her.

We were also busy with Joey and Chelsea’s wedding. Daddy was the best man and held a bachelor party in Omaha the week before the wedding. Chelsea opted not to do a traditional bachelorette party since she’s pregnant. So, I did a lingerie party for her instead. Everyone got her something pretty to wear—for before and after the baby—and we had a dessert bar and served champagne. It was a lot of fun.

Danny didn’t go to Joey’s bachelor party, but he did come to the wedding. He couldn’t wait to show Devaney off to his friends, but Lori had a fit about the germs, the lack of schedule, being tired, and all that. So, he went by himself. I think it was a good break for him. He slept for fourteen hours straight!

I’m worried about Lori though. She won’t take a break. Baby Devaney is so cute, but she seems to cry a lot before she can settle down and go to sleep. It’s like she’s stressed.

Just so you know, I’m not good with routines, so I hope that you can function well in a sort of go-with-the-flow environment.

Grandma and Grandpa stayed with Angel all week, and after the wedding, your daddy and I checked into a beautiful hotel on the beach and spent four days doing nothing.

Our own little babymoon.

Oh, also, I look and feel great. Like, I don’t know what magical mix of hormones and vitamins is happening here, but my skin is clear and glowing, my hair is thick and shiny, and my nails are growing longer.

So thank you for that.

Oh, also, even though I have seen the ultrasounds and know you are a baby, I keep having crazy dreams where I give birth to an alien/dolphin/puppy/hamster/unicorn (that was kinda cool)/pizza/and Channing Tatum wearing a baby bonnet. The only problem is that, no matter what kind of baby comes out, the dream ends with red. Lots and lots of red.

I’m hoping it just means that will be your favorite color.

Go Nebraska, right?

P.S. Lori still hasn’t apologized, but she is starting to act like we’re okay. And, even though I miss us being okay, I’m not really okay with it. Things just aren’t the same. I miss my friend. I miss talking to her every day. She uses being busy with the baby as an excuse, but it’s like she’s still mad at me.

But shouldn’t it be the other way around?