He shrugs it off like he’s discussing the weather and not their agreement on telling everyone they’re pregnant. “It’s only your brother. It’s not a big deal.”
“But my brother has a big, big mouth, and he could tell everyone. What if I go to the doctor and they say it was a false positive, and by then, half my family is already planning my baby shower?”
“Then I’ll have to work double time to put that baby where it belongs.” Wylder smiles at my sister, looking pretty damn pleased with himself, but she isn’t finding his statement cute.
“Don’t tell anyone,” she begs me once she finally drags her angry gaze away from him.
I lift my hands. “My lips are sealed. I can keep a secret, unlike some other people in this family.”
“If you say one word, I’ll?—”
“I like my balls where they are,” I interrupt her, knowing exactly how she’ll threaten me. I’ve spent my life dealing with her.
“I was going to say I’d slurp every drink in front of you for the rest of my life.”
I wince, hating that more than a one-time kick in the nuts. “You go for the jugular.”
“Damn right,” she says with a smile.
“The whole family is going to shit a brick,” Wylder says, reaching his hand across to place it on Tate’s stomach, but she bats it away.
“Blabbermouth,” she mutters.
“Were you trying to get pregnant?” Iris asks her.
“Yes,” Tate says. “I love Maddox and Hazel, but we wanted a little one running around the house.”
“It’s a boy,” Wylder states with so much certainty, I almost believe him.
“I don’t care, as long as the baby’s healthy,” Tate says.
“Will it be your mom and dad’s first grandbaby?” Iris asks Tate.
I see a flash of pain in Tate’s eyes. I know exactly where it’s coming from too. No shade against Tilly, but Tate still has such vivid memories of our mother. There’s always been a hole left by her death that can’tbe filled by anyone, even the best stepmother in the entire world.
“It would be the first,” Tate tells her. “And the entire family is going to make me crazy about it too.”
“Truth,” I say, lifting my beer bottle and tipping it in her direction. “Better you than me.”
“Do you want kids, Iris?” Tate asks her.
I continue drinking, but the question has me paying attention.
“Yes. I’d like a few someday, but I’m far off that point, because,” Iris says, wiggling her ring finger at my sister.
“Well, you have my brother now, so maybe it’ll be sooner rather than later.”
I almost cough my entire mouthful of beer across the table, but I catch most of it behind my hand. Tate has lost her mind. I can now blame her equally big mouth as Wylder’s on her pregnancy hormones.
“Well, I… Uh…” Iris stammers, looking like a deer in headlights.
“Tate, calm it, baby,” Wylder tells her.
“Look at them,” Tate says, waving her hand between Iris and me. “They’re perfect together.”
“It takes more than hotness,” Wylder tells her, and somehow, he’s become the sane one at the table.
Iris glances down before looking up at me, and I know it’s my time to act. “Let us get to know each other first before you have us married off with kids running around the yard, sis. Okay?”
