“Have you told her about the time you stole the tractor? And took out a beehive?” Jenn asked.
“That’s how we found out Jasper’s not allergic to bee stings,” Jess deadpanned.
“I was seven. Not my fault the clutch stuck.”
We laughed for hours on the deck, eating pie and sharing stories. As the evening went on, my nerves eased, and I found myself having a genuinely good time. They all knew so much about one another. There were inside jokes and old stories and so much warmth. I was a stranger, an outsider, but every person here made Vincent and me feel included.
Jasper was so lucky to have these wonderful people in his life, and I couldn’t help but hope that Vincent and I could stick around.
Chapter 22
Evie
Singing along with Lake Paige’s newest single, I bounced around the living room, cleaning up.
It was surprising, how good I felt. I’d been so anxious about meeting Jasper’s family. I’d stressed for hours, preparing explanations for the unknown pregnancy, my decision to breastfeed, and any other slightly controversial parenting topic I could think of.
As it turned out, I hadn’t needed to prep a defense. No one asked me intrusive questions or judged my choices.
I’d let myself relax around strangers and even had a good time.
It was eye-opening, really. To step into Jasper’s childhood home, to listen to stories about his parents and watch as his siblings ribbed him playfully.
It hit me in the middle of dinner, just how grateful I was that he was Vincent’s dad. That his loud, messy family also belonged to Vincent.
Because my family? My stomach soured even thinking about them. Neither my narcissist mother, who’d been through three husbands so far, or my alcoholic father had much love for me, and the feeling was mutual. The last thing I wanted was Vincentexposed to that type of emotional pain. I’d come to Vermont for a fresh start. Maplewood was my safe little bubble. And I’d work my ass off to give my son a safe, nurturing childhood.
I peered out the back window at Jasper’s tent. He was in there, as always. The man hadn’t once complained.
God, I was a terrible person.
Why had I been so uptight about having him here? More and more, it felt like he belonged in my home, here with Vincent and me. But I couldn’t very well invite him in and give him a room now. Where would he even sleep? The house was a two-bedroom, and Vincent had been sleeping in his crib in his own room for a couple of months already.
The stars twinkled above, reminding me that it was a nice night.
Maybe I should go out and talk to him. Thank him again for today.
I ran my fingers over my lips, reliving our kiss.
It had been a mistake. Yet I couldn’t stop thinking about it.
The pull toward him was undeniable. While I was exceptionally good at resisting these types of urges, tonight was different. After the day we’d had, I couldn’t stop myself from slipping my feet into my shoes and heading for the back door, monitor and phone in hand.
Just as I was unlocking the dead bolt, my phone buzzed.
With a step back, I dug it out, and when Ruby’s name flashed on the screen, I answered quickly.
“Fuck,” she screamed on the other end.
My pulse quickened and my mind spun. Was she hurt?
“It’s happening,” she grunted into the phone. “Motherfucker, this hurts.”
“You’re in labor?” Panic took over, causing me to ask dumb, obvious questions.
“Yes.”
There was shuffling, then Paul said, “We’re on our way to the hospital.”
