Sadie moves to Ian’s side, placing a hand on his arm. “You need to listen without reacting.”
Ian’s eyes narrow, but he nods. Then he looks at me with his big-brother smile, the one that’s gotten me through more hard moments than I can count in the past year. “You can tell me anything, Pip.”
The words stick in my throat for a second, but I take a breath and let them out. “I’m pregnant.” My voice sounds steadier than I expected. “And Felix is the father.”
All three of us watch Ian, whose face goes through about seventeen emotions in three seconds. Shock. Confusion. A glare at Felix. Understanding. More shock. And then, finally, something that looks almost like acceptance.
He glances at Sadie, who confirms it with a nod. Then he walks to me and pulls me into a hug.
“Congratulations, Piper,” he says into my hair, his voice calm and steady. “You’re going to be an amazing mom. Anything you need, I’m here for you.”
“Thank you,” I whisper, emotion clogging my throat. Even more than Sadie, Ian’s support makes me feel like I’m not alone in all of this. I’m also impressed that he’s taking it so well. Maybe even a little suspicious about how well.
He releases me, walks directly to Felix, and punches him in the face.
Felix staggers back, hand flying to his cheek. “The fuck, Ian?”
I gasp and take a step forward, but Sadie grabs my wrist. “Let them figure it out,” she says quietly enough that only I can hear. Not that either Barlowe brother is paying a lick of attention to us at the moment.
“That’s for messing with my sister-in-law.” Ian shakes out his hand, wincing. “Jesus, your face is like concrete.”
“I hope you broke your jackass knuckles.” Felix massages his jaw as if testing whether it still works. “For the record, she’syoursister-in-law, not mine. And I didn’t mess with her. We?—”
“I know what you did.” Ian flexes his fingers. “And now she’s pregnant.”
“I’m aware.”
“After telling everyone at Christmas you never wanted kids.” Then, Ian’s lips twitch. “Fucking concrete.”
Felix touches his jaw again. “Serves you right. Feel better?’
“Much.” Ian claps him on the shoulder, the gesture somehow both affectionate and threatening. “But if you hurt her?—”
“I won’t.”
“You’d better take care of her.”
“I will,” Felix promises, his eyes flashing as they meet mine.
“I can take care of myself,” I mutter, pretty sure I’m convincing no one.
My sister moves to her husband’s side. “Is your hand okay?”
“Better than Felix’s face.”
Felix snorts. “My face is fine.”
“It’s swelling,” Sadie tells him.
“Your husband has a decent right hook for a guy who used to throw a football on occasion.”
“Quarterbacks have strong hands,” Ian says mildly. “It’s kind of our thing.”
As I watch this insane exchange between two overgrown children in adult bodies, something bubbles up in my chest that might be laughter. Or maybe it’s hysteria. Either way, it spills out before I can swallow it back.
Three pairs of eyes land on me. “Did you seriously just punch your brother for getting me pregnant?” I ask Ian.
“Yes,” he answers. “I’ll do it again if you want.”
