This isn’t going to go well.

I’ll just dump it between us, one dump, no more easing into it.

“I asked Linda what agency you were adopted from. I filled out the forms—as you, by the way—to unseal your birth records. And my mom received the documents, scanned them and e-mailed them to me. I know who your birth parents are and where they live. At least, your birth dad. I know where he lives. There wasn’t a last known address for your birth mother, but maybe your dad knows and we can find her that way.”

His jaw drops. “You did what?”

I set the Surface onto the bed between us. “I found your father. He’s in Lodi. Less than two hours from us and, Bobby, we are going there tomorrow before we head back to Pacific Palisades. You just said whatever I want. I want to meet my child’s biological grandfather.”

He springs from the bed, pacing and raking a hand through his hair. “I don’t know how you could do this without discussing it with me.”

I follow his agitated movements. “I can do it because I love you and I’ve got your baby growing in me. That gives me a say in whether we find your birth parents or not.”

He stops. “A say: yes. Total vote in decision process: no.”

I pout. “Well, you got to make our last major decision all on your own.”

“And what would that be?”

I arch a brow. “That would be when you decided that not having a condom didn’t matter and we were doing it anyway. Your exact words, Bobby. And you were wrong. It did matter. One time not shooting into a cap and here I am pregnant.”

A flush rises on his face. “That’s different. And how the fuck was I supposed to know you’re just like your mother? A fertility machine.”

I stare at him, not really angry because I know I’ve pushed the limits with this, but I pretend to be angry. “Well, that was a crummy thing to say to your pregnant wife. You’re definitely sleeping in your own little double bed tonight.”

His eyes scream I’m sorry but he doesn’t say it.

Yep, he’s really pissed.

Damn. Maybe I shouldn’t have done this.

CHAPTER 34

The next morning I open my eyes to find Bobby stretched out on the extra bed, wide awake and staring at the ceiling.

Crap, I must have fallen asleep in the middle of the shitstorm and Bobby must have decided to be a jerk and not join me in bed.

Time for the next round, I guess, but after last night I’m not sure that I want to continue the fight. We argued for hours about how I could have gone behind his back and done this. Bobby fluctuated between being really angry, really nervous about potentially meeting his birth dad, really apologetic because he shouldn’t be bickering with his pregnant wife, and round and round we went until my preggers body had had enough and it was hasta la bye-bye, Kaley.

In between the discussion over how I could have done this, we debated whether to call his birth dad or just show up on his doorstep.

I study his expression. I’m not sure what his mood is this morning, but I’m exhausted. The last thing I want is to be dragged into more discussion.

I sit on the edge of the bed. “Get up, Bobby. Get dressed. Pack. We’re going to Lodi before we head back to Pacific Palisades. You can stay in the car if you want to, but if your birth dad is there I’m meeting him today. I don’t care what you say, I don’t care if you’re pissed at me, and we’re not discussing it anymore. Decision made. I’m going.”

We dress in silence, pack up, climb into the car, grab breakfast at a drive-thru, and head out toward Lodi with nothing decided.

I sit quietly in the car as we speed up Highway 99, pretending to focus on my meal as I try to read my husband’s face. He looks drained, worried, a little sad, and still a smidge angry with me.

The tension between us is palpable.

I hate when we’re emotionally out of sync.

He is staring at the road ahead, jaw tight and fingers clenched around the steering wheel. Not good. Silent, brooding Bobby.

I take a bite of my breakfast burrito. My stomach turns. Oh fuck, not morning sickness again. Not now. I try to fight down the bile in my mouth and it immediately fights to come back up.

A ghastly sound escapes me.

Bobby glances at me. The color drains from his face. “Kaley, what’s wrong?”

Without answering him, I scramble for the bag with the remainder of our breakfast and start retching. The tires screech as he pulls off on the side of the freeway.

His arm slips around my shoulders, supporting me. “Oh jeez, baby, I shouldn’t upset you. What a jerk I am. Fuck, is there anything I can do to help?”

I shake my head, not daring to speak, not sure that it’s over. I wait. Oh, thank you, God. Nothing. I relax back into my seat, breathing rapidly.

He starts to brush back the tumbling hair from my face. “Oh, baby, I’m sorry. That didn’t happen because we fought all night, did it?”

A small laugh escapes me as I slowly open my eyes. “No, I got sick because I’m pregnant. I’ve been getting sick in the morning even after the nights we make love. Why do you think I’ve been spending so much time in the bathroom getting ready? I’ve been tossing my stomach into the toilet almost every day for five weeks now.”

His gaze holds me like a gentle embrace. “I’m sorry about the sickness and I’m sorry about the fight. I would have rather made love to you last night. I hate fighting with you, Kaley.”

“Me, too.”

He kisses me lightly on my brow. “Do you feel well enough to do this today?”

I nod, excited, since I can hear how much he wants to finish this trip to Lodi to meet his dad, even though he hasn’t said it.

We drive the rest of the way in silence, but the tension is gone between us, and he’s extra cautious not to upset me or drive too fast.

I ease close into his side from the passenger seat and let him put an arm around me. He drops a kiss on my curls and then I touch my lips to his neck.

“So I’ve been thinking of names,” I announce randomly out of nowhere. “If it’s a girl, Alana. And if it’s a boy, Aldo.”

Bobby’s expression is priceless. “You want to name a girl Alana? And a boy Aldo?”

I fight not to laugh. “Variations of Alan. Pretty groovy, huh? That might score you some points with my dad.”

He shudders, but he’s holding back a smile. Good. Even better. Yep, we’re back in a good place again.

An hour later our GPS prompts us to a freeway off-ramp, and I sit up in my seat, more alertly studying the passing scenery. Well, Lodi isn’t awful, but it’s not exactly great. It looks like every other hole-in-the-wall town in Northern California. I’m a little apprehensive about what we’re going to find. I’m pretty sure we’re driving the only Aston Martin in this area.

We cut through the city, making turn after turn, then onto a straight road that looks like it goes on forever. Vineyards line each side of the two lanes. It’s pretty and rural, and somewhere on this street is the house where Bobby’s birth dad lives.

I turn in my seat and smile at him. “They make wine in Lodi. I didn’t know that.”

“They make wine everywhere in California,” Bobby replies, his voice a little on edge.

“Maybe your dad owns a winery.”

He shakes his head, downshifting the car. “Nope, more likely works on one. Probably a day laborer. He’ll probably take one look at the car and ask me for a loan. I bet my dad is a total loser.”

Oh crap. That doesn’t sound at all like Bobby, and I know he doesn’t mean it. He’s just being uncharacteristically negative to keep from getting his hopes up.

“Your birth dad is not going to be a total loser. Your birth parents have to be good people to have a son as wonderful as you.”

His gaze moves to pause briefly on mine. “I’m still not sure if this was a good idea, Kaley.”