Jerome couldn't stop smiling. He hadn't been this happy in years; the last time he could remember feeling this way was when his youngest child was born, twenty years earlier.
When his wife had left him several months earlier, Jerome had believed he would never be happy again. How could he be, when the woman he'd loved for three decades suddenly told him she didn't love him anymore? For months after she dropped that bomb on him, along with the news that she'd been cheating on him for six months and was leaving him for the other man, Jerome had just barely existed. He'd left his house only to work and run vital errands, he'd spoken to no one but coworkers and store employees. Then Brenna had entered his life.
Brenna. Just thinking about her made Jerome's smile grow, along with something else. It wouldn't have been possible for a young, beautiful woman like her to be attracted to an old fart like him. At fifty, Jerome was fifteen years older than Brenna. But that didn't seem to bother her. Not only was she attracted to him, so much so that they'd made love on their first date, but she loved him. And now she was carrying his child.
Jerome sat at his desk at work, smiling hugely as he went through his paperwork. Brenna worked for the same company, which was how they'd met; they'd known each other in passing for quite a while before she'd persuaded Jerome to go to a bar with her a few other coworkers. That meant that they were able to see each other sometimes during the day, and occasionally sneak a hug or kiss, despite the company's frowning view of public displays of affection. A few minutes earlier, Brenna had found an excuse to pass by Jerome's desk. She hadn't stopped to talk to him, but just the smile she had sent his way had made his day.
"What's with you lately?" Mike, one of Jerome's coworkers, sat on the corner of Jerome's desk. "You're been smiling way too much."
"When I'm happy, I smile," Jerome said.
"I take it all's well in paradise?" Mike said.
"Everything's fine." Jerome didn't like talking about his personal life at work, especially when someone else was involved. Of course, everyone at work knew he and Brenna were together, just like everyone had known about his separation and divorce as soon as they'd happened. That was the way the office grapevine worked. But that didn't mean Jerome wanted to discuss it.
"Glad to hear it," Mike said. "And it's good to see you and Brenna happy. She's been through a lot, and from what I've heard, so have you."
"Yes, but it's over now," Jerome said. "Thank you for saying that. It's good to be happy. Brenna's a wonderful person, and I'm glad I make her happy."
"Just keep it that way. Treat her right."
"I intend to."
"Good." Mike slid off the desk. "Nice talking to you." He walked away.
What was Mike's issue? Obviously he had more than a passing interest in Brenna. Maybe they were just friends, maybe he had stronger feelings. It didn't matter to Jerome, though, as long as Mike didn't try to come between him and Brenna. Brenna was such a sweet person; it made sense that her friends would watch over her. But Jerome knew some of what had happened in Brenna's past; he would never do anything to hurt her.
At the end of the day, Jerome met Brenna in the office lobby, where she worked as a receptionist. She greeted him with a hug. "How was your day?" she asked.
"Pretty good," Jerome replied. "Especially when a beautiful lady walked past my desk and smiled at me."
"A beautiful lady smiled at you?" Brenna said teasingly. "Uh oh, does that mean I have competition?"
"No one could compete with you, silly girl." Jerome kissed her nose. "So how was your day?"
"I felt kind of queasy this morning, but it let up. A couple of clients gave me a hard time, but otherwise things went well." She yawned. "I'm exhausted, though. I could sleep for a week."
"The queasiness and tiredness are normal," Jerome said. "At least, my ex went through the same thing when she was expecting. As for the clients hassling you, just give me their names and I'll take care of them."
Brenna laughed. "My hero. But I don't think we have to go that far."
"All right, if you're sure." Jerome rubbed her still-flat belly. "Want to make sure Junior here is being taken care of. Along with his mommy."
"Junior?" Brenna repeated. "What if it's a girl?"
"Juniorette."
Brenna shook her head. "Men."
"Yep, well, without a man, you wouldn't have that little one in there. Just remember that. I assume you're happy about the little one?"
"Very happy. I still can't believe you asked me to marry you, though. I was so scared when I found out I was pregnant! I thought you would hate me."
"You had nothing to be scared of. I love you, Brenna. Why wouldn't I want to marry you? Speaking of which, are you feeling up to going to dinner and shopping like we'd planned, or would you rather go home and sleep?"
"I'd rather go back to your house and, well, you know."
Jerome grinned. "You know, huh? I think I remember how to do that. Come on, let's get out of here."
Brenna didn't own a car; since he'd proposed to her, Jerome had given her rides to and from work. Brenna had protested at first, but when Jerome pointed out that having morning sickness on the bus might be a bit awkward, she'd stopped arguing. They walked out to Jerome's car, and he held the passenger door open for Brenna. "You're so nice to me," she said, settling herself into the seat.
"You deserve to be treated nicely," Jerome said. "So learn to live with it, because you're going to get a whole lot more of this kind of treatment with me around."
"I think I can deal with that."
Jerome closed her door and got into the driver's seat. "You never answered me," he said as they drove out of the parking lot. "Are you okay for a short shopping trip?"
Brenna rested her hand on his knee. "What about going to your house?"
"Afterward. There's something very important that we need to pick up."
"What's that?"
Jerome covered her hand with his own. "It's been a week since I asked you to marry me. Something belongs on this hand."
"A ring? You don't have to buy me a ring, Jerome. I thought we were just going to keep things small and simple."
"We're going to have wedding rings, aren't we?"
"Well, of course. But that's different."
"Not to me. We're engaged. I want you to have an engagement ring. It doesn't have to be anything fancy, but it would mean a lot to me to buy you one."
"We'll see. We can at least look at wedding rings." She yawned again. "I'm tired, but yes, I'm okay to go shopping with you. As long as we keep it short."
