Page 53 of This Time Around (The Can’t Have Hearts Club #3)
“ T hank you so much for this.” Allie hugged Amy, squeezing her summer camp friend before drawing back and extending a hand to Amy’s boss. “Kate. I can’t thank you enough for coming here and capturing all this great content.”
“Are you kidding?” Ignoring Allie’s hand, Kate pulled her in for a hug. “It’s not every day I get to film film famous felines.”
The woman worked with celebrities daily so Allie kinda doubted her houseful of cats could compare to Kate Geary’s star-studded world. She still couldn’t get over how amazing this was.
“Please let me pay you,” Allie insisted as she stopped hugging Kate to let the guests pack up their gear. “I can’t even imagine how much I’d have to spend to get professionally produced video footage of Rosewood Bed and Breakfast.”
“It’s a gift,” Amy insisted. “A housewarming gift, wedding gift, and baby shower gift all bundled together.”
With a laugh, Allie rested a hand on her oversized belly and attempted to stretch out her back. “You’re way too generous.” Weren’t housewarming gifts more like vases of flowers or cupcakes? Not two freakin’ Hollywood producers, sent here to capture content of her newly reopened B&B.
“We insist.” Kate tucked a camera into a hard-sided case. “We’ll send you some roughs in a couple days.”
Amy darted a nervous glance at Kate. “Don’t we have that meeting with?—”
“Ah, right.” Kate made a face. “Guess we’ve got some travel coming up.”
The two producers traded a furtive glance before Kate’s gaze swung back to Allie’s. “Sorry. A top-secret project that’s been in the works for eons is finally coming to fruition. I can’t say anything until it’s final, but our schedule is about to get crazy.”
“We’ll have something to you by the end of next week.” Amy hugged her one more time. “Drinks in Seattle the next time you’re up there? That’s where we’ll be working for a bit.”
“Sounds good.” Allie refrained from saying she didn’t drive up to Seattle much these days.
Ever since her mother got out of prison, she didn’t have many occasions to make the trip.
“Or maybe the next time you pass through Portland.” Stretching her back again, she winced as the baby kicked her in the ribs.
“I might be a little housebound for a bit.”
“Of course.” Amy coiled up the cord on some sort of light thingy. “If you’re gonna be housebound, at least you’ve got an incredible house for it.”
“And a hot husband keeping you company.” Kate winked.“Congratulations again.”
“Thanks.” Allie helped them gather the last of their gear, then waved from the porch as they stuffed it all into their rental car.
As they backed down the drive, Jack stepped onto the porch to join her. “Did I miss the official farewell?”
“Yeah, sorry.” He’d been part of the filming for the last several hours, but got pulled away by a work call. “Everything okay at the office?”
“Everything’s great.” He wrapped his arms around her from behind and nuzzled her neck. “Looks like we’re close to a deal on that new app I was telling you about.”
“Congratulations! That’s amazing.” She attempted to turn in his arms, but Jack held her tightly, cradling the baby bump in his hands. “Jack—” Laughing, she squirmed against him. “Let me go, you big goofball.”
“I’m trying to feel if he’s jumping for joy.” He nuzzled her neck again, hands moving over her belly. “I keep missing it when he kicks.”
“You’ve got plenty of time.” Their son wasn’t due for six more weeks, which felt wild. Was she really going to get bigger than this? “Don’t you need to run and pick up Paige?”
“Nope.” He kissed her neck again before letting her go and guiding them both back into the house. He led her to the parlor, where a big stack of reservations waited for Allie’s attention.
They could wait a little longer. Exhausted, she dropped into the chair at her desk.
“Your mom offered to pick up Paige,” Jack continued, massaging her shoulders with a few sneaky boob grazes thrown in for good measure. The man couldn’t get enough of her pregnant body. “Apparently they had a date at some fancy English tearoom. They’ve been planning it for weeks.”
Warm bubbles of joy floated up through her chest. Much more pleasant than the heartburn that had plagued her for most of this pregnancy. She melted into Jack’s touch, enjoying the groping as much as the shoulder rub.
“Hey, guys!” Skye swooped into the room in a flutter of purple tie-dye, then swooped back out just as quickly. “Sorry,” she called from behind the door. “I didn’t mean to interrupt sexy time.”
“It’s fine, we’re not getting busy in the parlor,” Jack called, lowering his voice as his lips brushed Allie’s ear. “Not this time, anyway.”
She giggled as Jack stepped away and flopped onto the couch.
Two big orange polydactyls—Maestro and Matt—hopped up on either side of him, flanking him like fuzzy bookends.
Jack looked so perfect there—so much a part of this home and this life they’d reconstructed together—that Allie wanted to fold herself onto his lap and kiss him all over.
But her feet were killing her, so maybe she’d just stay here in her desk chair for a bit.
Skye swept back into the room again and deposited a stack of mail beside Allie. “It’s another batch of fan mail for the cats,” she said. “Looks like we need to make some more of those paw-print postcards.”
“Really? We went through all six boxes already?”
“Crazy, right?” Skye tucked a blue curl behind one ear. “Maybe we can make the paw-print stamp with one of the other cats this time. Luna or Kenny might be good.”
Allie nodded and glanced down as one of the cats in question scampered across the carpet. “I still can’t believe people get so nuts about getting paw-tographed letters from famous cats.”
“So should I order a few thousand more?” Skye asked.
“Already on it.” Jack stood up again and reclaimed a spot beside Allie. “And I booked a caterer for that event we’re hosting next week. The wine club thing?”
“I almost forgot about that.” Allie had been so busy, and her brain wasn’t firing on all cylinders. “Were you able to book Meg Delaney?”
“Yep.” Jack grinned. “I told her how much you love her smoked salmon canapés and she promised to make plenty of extras.”
“Thanks, Jack.” The man was a godsend.
“Good call hiring Meg,” Skye said. “I went out with her ex-fiancé a couple times, and let’s just say the woman’s a saint. I don’t know what she saw in Matt Midland, but I sure hope his dick is as big as his ego.”
Allie giggled, enjoying the easy repartee of girlfriend chatter. When Skye had agreed to stay on as a caretaker running a tiny beauty salon on site, Allie had looked forward to this easy camaraderie the most. “I take it you didn’t sleep with him?”
“Nope,” Skye said. “Maybe I should have. Then I could become besties with Meg and we could sit around eating her delicious food and talking shit about her ex.”
Jack piped up from the couch. “Is that Matt Midland the famous sports photographer?”
“The one and only.” Skye made a face. “Personally, I think his brother’s the talented one. Way hotter, too.”
Jack snorted and reached over to turn the clay vase of mixed metal daisies on the end table. “Glad to know Kyle Midland’s skills as a metal artist are eclipsed only by his hotness.”
The women ignored him as Skye grinned at Allie. “Need anything at the store?”
“I don’t think so.”
“Text me if you think of anything.” Skye started for the door. “I ran out of cuticle cream in the salon, and the guests in the Laurelwood room ate all the cream cheese this morning.”
“Please don’t mix up the two,” Jack called as she headed toward the door.
“I’ll do my best!”
As Skye vanished from the room, Jack turned back to Allie. “Come on. There’s something I want to show you.”
She looked up at him. “Are we going somewhere?”
“Not leaving the house, if that’s what you mean.”
He pulled her up and out of the chair, and Allie felt a tingly swoop in her belly. “Don’t you dare try to pick me up, Jack Carpenter,” she said. “You’ll break your back.”
“Relax, woman. Come with me willingly and I won’t have to carry you anywhere.”
Allie would have followed him off the end of a dock with her pockets filled with rocks, though she couldn’t do it quickly in her current state. Why had no one told her that being nearly eight months pregnant felt a lot like swallowing an angry watermelon?
Jack towed her out of the parlor and into the foyer, rounding the corner toward the stairs. “Wait,” Allie said as her gaze landed on the framed collection on the wall. “Hang on a sec.”
He let go of her hand, and Allie paused to straighten the framed letter from Ernest Hemingway. The words—and the legally documented authenticity of it—were a big part of what had put the Rosewood B&B on the map. She owed it to Ernie to at least make sure things looked tidy.
“I still can’t believe we own Ernest freakin’ Hemingway’s cats,” Jack said as Allie touched the edge of the framed feline family tree next to the letter. Her grandmother’s handwriting was tidy and flourished, and Allie felt a pang of nostalgia.
“Not all of them,” she reminded him. “Just some. Enough to make them an historic attraction, anyway.”
“I guess now that Maple’s expecting, we’ve got at least one more generation.”
Allie winced as the baby kicked again. “I’ve never identified so strongly with a cat.”
Laughing, Jack caught her hand again. “Come on.”