“No,” he heard himself respond. “I want to be there for you. I just hope, when the time comes, I’m closer to your head than your feet.”
She laughed, long enough and hard enough so he started keeping an eye out for places with public restrooms. Hopefully she’d make it home, but the woman had to pee more often than a toddler on a road trip.
“That was just a movie. How are you going to survive the live event?”
“Drunk?” Like he wished he currently was. “Let’s change the subject.”
“Okay. Have you thought about names?”
“You told me it was bad luck to pick a name.”
“That was before. So if it’s a girl, what would you think about naming her after Paulie? You’re so close and she’s been such a good friend to me.”
“She hates Paulette, but Paulie Kowalski? Sounds weird, and I’m not sure I can handle two Paulies in my life.”
“She told me her middle name is Lillian and she kept it when she changed her name because it was her grandmother’s name. It means something to her.”
“Lillian’s a bit old-fashioned, isn’t it?”
“I was thinking Lily.”
Lily. He liked that. “Lily Ann, instead of Lillian?”
“Lily Ann Kowalski. I like it. What if it’s a boy?”
Since he’d been wondering for the last few weeks how to broach the subject of the baby’s last name, it was a huge relief to hear her say it straight out. He wasn’t sure if she’d want the baby to have her last name because they weren’t married, or if she’d want to hyphenate it. Hansen-Kowalski didn’t really work for him. “How about Carl Yastrzemski?”
“Carl Yastrzemski Kowalski? What the hell kind of name is that?”
“I can’t believe I even let you in my bar.” How did he end up with a woman who knew absolutely nothing about sports? “Yaz was only the greatest left fielder ever. A Red Sox icon.”
“I’m not naming my child after a sports person. No Tom Brady Kowalski. No Derek Jeter or whatever Kowalski.”
“Jesus, Beth.” He almost ran off the road. “Jeter’s a freakin’ Yankee. I wouldn’t even name an ugly, three-legged, one-eyed, rabid and mangy dog I hated Jeter, never mind my own son. Whatever you do, don’t ever talk sports with anybody at Jasper’s.”
“I was making a point.”
“Okay fine, if your point was that you don’t know shit about sports. There’s our dads. We could name him after them.”
“Leo and Arthur?”
“Yeah, probably not. What’s your dad’s middle name?”
“Merton.”
Crap. “How about Ray? Ray Bourque Kowalski. Gotta nice ring to it.”
Through the corner of his eye he saw the disgusted look she threw his way. “Even I’ve heard of Ray Bourque, Kevin.”
“I had to try. He’s a Bruins legend.”
“I hope you realize I’m going to have to run a Google search on every name you suggest now. Or at least run it by Paulie.”
“We’ve gotta come up with something. In keeping with the Paulie theme, there’s Paul.” He turned his head just in time to see her wrinkle her nose. “Or not.”
“We don’t have to decide today.”
“Just so you know, the kids offered up a couple of suggestions.” When she groaned, he laughed. “Taking any and all sports figures off the table, the consensus from the boys would be Scooter.”
“Scooter Kowalski?” Her giggles went a long way toward cleansing his soul of the horror movie—birthing documentary, rather—he’d been forced to endure.
“And Stephanie has requested Jacob Edward if it’s a boy and Bella Stephanie if it’s a girl. Something to do with some sparkly vampire werewolf books she’s into, according to her mother.”
“Let’s just stick with To Be Determined for now.”
He shrugged. “I kinda like Scooter.”
“You would.” She sighed and shifted in her seat. “I’m hungry. And I need to pee. Again.”
He laughed and shook his head. She should have a T-shirt that said that. “We’re five minutes from the bar.”
“Wings. Yummy.” She’d moved from Jasper burgers to wings a few weeks ago and her appetite for them was insatiable.
Of course, watching her lick the sauce from her fingers was hell on his insatiable appetite, too, but chicken wasn’t going to fulfill his craving.
He craved her. Not just in his bed—though that was a big part of it—but just in general. He wanted to share his life with her. The last time he’d hedged around the subject, she’d laughed at him. They worked together and spent most of their free time together and lived five feet from each other. How much more sharing did he want?
He wanted it all. He wanted the five feet to go away. But after her amusement faded, she’d gotten touchy and he’d dropped it. The last thing he wanted was for her to be uncomfortable with their current arrangement.
His worst fear was that, if she thought he was being too pushy, she’d bolt. Get on a bus to Florida or somewhere else and leave him behind.
So for now he kept his hands to himself and played the buddy-slash-neighbor who just happened to have fathered her child. It was hard, though, and getting harder every day.
Chapter Eighteen