“You’ve been a member of this family since you were a teenager, son,” Dad says and claps Ty on the shoulder. “Don’t you forget that. Now, when are you going to marry this beautiful woman?”
“Well, we’ve decided to move the wedding up to Valentine’s Day. It’s going to be a small wedding anyway.”
“And this way, I won’t be showing yet so I can still wear a beautiful dress,” Lo adds.
“Great idea,” Cara says. “Jill and I can help.”
Jill nods enthusiastically and then yawns.
“You okay, baby?” I murmur down to her as I wrap my arms around her from behind.
“Yeah, I’m fine. Don’t know why I’m suddenly tired.” She shrugs and when I tighten my arms under her breasts, she flinches. “Hormonal, I guess.”
“Do you want to take a nap?”
She shakes her head and smiles happily up at me. “No way, we have to get dinner started.”
“Can we go ride my new snowmobile?” Seth asks.
“You guys go play in the snow,” Jill says. “We’re going to cook and talk about you now.”
“Oh good,” I reply dryly. “Thanks for the warning.”
“I only say nice things, babe.”
I roll over in bed and cringe when my breast is pressed against the mattress. Holy shit, what time is it? I glance at my phone and groan. Since when do I take naps at noon? I’ve never been a napper. Yet today, I was so exhausted after showing a house that I had to come home and sleep before my mid-afternoon appointment.
This is the second time this week that I couldn’t make it through the day without catching at least an hour of sleep.
I frown, my breast still cradled gently in my hand, and think back over the past couple of months. Huh. I haven’t had a period in a while. Which isn’t anything unusual since all of the extensive fertility treatments I went through.
Maybe I should make an appointment with Hannah.
I google the phone number for the new OB/GYN’s office and click SEND.
“Dr. Malone’s office, how many I help you?”
“Hi, this is Jillian Sullivan. I have a history of abnormal menstrual cycles and my doctor in California used to prescribe me progesterone to regulate them. Is it possible to have a prescription written for that?”
“Are you a patient of Dr. Malone?”
“No, I’ve never seen her before, but I can give you the name of my doctor in California so you can get my records if that helps.”
“That would be helpful, but even with those records, Dr. Malone will have to see you in the office. She won’t prescribe anything without establishing care with you first.”
Damn! I was worried about that.
“But,” she continues, “you can come in to give us a blood and urine sample anytime, and that way by the time your appointment rolls around, you should be all set.”
“Okay, can she see me Friday afternoon? That’s the best time with my work schedule.”
“Let’s see. Today’s Wednesday . . . Hmm . . . yes, she can see you at two o’clock.”
The receptionist keeps me on the line for a few more minutes to gather demographic information and when we hang up, I’m already exhausted again.
Geez, talk about PMS.
I groan as I pull myself out of bed and pull my work clothes back on, already daydreaming about coming home after work and crashing again.
I plug the address for the house I’m showing this afternoon into my GPS and set off across town. Today, I’m showing a home to the Petersons. This is a couple who knows exactly what they want, and I’ve been trying for six months to find the house that fits that bill.
I pull into the long driveway of the beautiful, two-year-old craftsman home on the outskirts of town and smile when I see Mr. and Mrs. Peterson already standing on the covered porch, looking in the windows.
“Hi!” I call as I step out of the car and approach the young couple.
“Hi, Jill,” Whitney Peterson replies and opens her arms for a hug. “How was your Christmas?”
“I had a great Christmas, thank you.”
Bryan Peterson smiles and shakes my hand. “Fifteenth try’s the charm, right?”
“Right.” I wink and unlock the front door then lead them inside. “This one hasn’t even hit the listings yet. When I saw it come through this morning, I had a feeling about it. And it’s priced exactly right.” I tell them the listing price and feel my heart quicken when they glance at each other and nod. “Let’s have a look.”
The further through the house we go, the more excited the young couple seems to get. The bedrooms are spacious, the bathrooms equipped with exactly what they want. Even the master bathroom, which has been a bone of contention in past houses they’ve seen.
“We’ll take it,” Bryan announces when we wander back down to the kitchen.
“Just like that?” I ask with a laugh.
“Just like that,” Whitney replies. “This is exactly what we’ve been looking for.”
“What do you want to offer them?” I pull my iPad out of my purse and open my notes.
“The asking price.” I raise a brow and do a quick mental calculation. Holy shit, that’s going to be an awesome commission.
“You really want this house,” I reply.
“We’ve been waiting a long time to find exactly what we want, and I don’t want anyone to come in and snatch it out from under us,” Bryan says with a shake of the head.
“I can arrange for an inspection this week and get the paperwork in motion. I’ll send the offer as soon as I get back to the office.”
Whitney squeals and jumps up and down, clapping her hands, then launches herself into her husband’s arms. This is my favorite part of my job, helping my clients find a home they love.
“It’s been such a pleasure working with you both,” I say as I lock up behind us and we walk to our cars. “I’ll be in touch when I hear from the seller.”
“Thank you so much.”
I pull away with a wide grin on my face and I immediately push the button on my Bluetooth. I need to tell Zack.
“Hey, sugar,” he says as he answers. He sounds out of breath, and my mind immediately shifts to the way he feels when he’s over me, inside me, making exactly that noise.
“Jilly?” he asks.
“I’m here. Sorry. Do you have plans tonight?”