Lo’s already grabbed a booth in the back. Beck and Ford slide in across from her, arguing about wedding playlist stuff like their lives depend on whether “Sweet Caroline” makes the cut.
Sylvia Hammond’s voice echoes from two tables over. Apparently, someone is still moving her geraniums, and she’s ready to call the FBI about it.
Classic Honeysuckle Grove chaos.
I slide in next to Lo, heart pounding like I’m about to pitch a billion-dollar deal instead of, you know, the rest of my life. “Okay, everyone, listen up. I?—”
“Actually…” Lo cuts through me, enough to make me sit back.
Her fingers are laced together on the table, knuckles white. She looks like someone about to deliver a eulogy, and my stomach does this nosedive that no seatbelt could save.
“Lo?” I lean in. “You good?”
She nods. Too fast. Not good at all. Then she glances at Beck and Ford, then at me, and says it.
The two words that bring my world to a grinding halt.
“I’m pregnant.”
Forks freeze midair. Ford’s mouth hangs open like a cartoon. Beck blinks so slow it’s almost a time-lapse. And me? I gasp as the whole diner goes quiet. Even Sylvia Hammond stops mid-rant. The words ricochet off the walls and stun everybody.
Pregnant.
It echoes like a church bell in my skull.
Beck’s the first to recover. “Uh… like,pregnantpregnant?”
Lo shoots him a look that could curdle cream. “Yes, Beck.Pregnantpregnant. There’s not a different kind.”
Ford chokes on his water. “Holy…” He cuts himself off when Lo raises one brow. “Cow. Holy cow.”
I can’t stop staring at her, because my brain’s trying to reboot, but the hard drive’s fried.
Finally, I find words. Sort of. “Are you… sure?”
Lo glares. “No, Hayes. I just thought it’d be fun to spice up dinner.”
Fair.
Dumb question.
Moving on.
Beck’s eyes dart between us. Ford’s grinning now.
Beneath the shock, the panic, the “holy shit we need a plan,” there’s this pressure in my chest. Something wild and warm that says, “family forever.”
I lean forward. “Wow, this is amazing news.”
Lo’s shoulders drop just a fraction. Relief, maybe. Or exhaustion. She meets my eyes, and for a second, the noise fades. Just her and me, and this impossible, incredible thing between us.
Pregnant.
Damn.
And here I was thinking tonight’s big news was about eco-tourism.
Ford leans back, still grinning. “A weddinganda baby. Damn, Lo, you don’t mess around.”
