I look over at Jenna’s friends, who are all scrambling for tissues. Kendra, her maid of honor, tips her head up to the blue sky and blows out a steadying breath.
This is a marriage for the ages. Even my bruised and disbelieving heart can’t deny the sincerity in Tommy’s words. He’s found his girl, but more than that, he’s found his family.
CHAPTER FIVE
Valentine’s Day
BILLIE
The swing at the bottom of the yard creaks as I shove my pregnant ass into the small space between the ropes and gently move back and forth.
Today was not how I envisioned celebrating my birthday. I think I’d be slightly less pissed if my favorite beef tacos from Miguel’s hadn’t set off a bout of acid reflux before I even finished the first shell.
“Do you want me to fix you some soup, honey?” Mom appears at the patio doorway, a tentative smile tracing her lips as she takes me in.
She used to push me all the time on this swing when I was a child, and while I just turned twenty-one, not much has really changed.
An acid burp rises up my throat as I push out, “Just a glass of water, please.”
Rubbing my sternum, I shift on the uncomfortable wooden seat, darkness quickly drawing across the sky.
“Okay.” She looks mildly irritated by my refusal to eat anything more. “Why don’t you come inside? It’s getting cold,and Emmett just pulled into the driveway. You should come and say hi.” Mom furrows her brow in thought. “He’s not exactly going through a great time either.”
In a twenty-four-hour period, where I’ve been nothing but grumpy and irritable, I feel my damp mood give way to lighter feelings, and I internally smile at the messages I recently exchanged with Emmett. We haven’t seen each other in years, but you wouldn’t know it from the way we slipped back into banter with ease.
When I slide off the swing and head back into the kitchen, pulling the patio door closed behind me, I can already hear Emmett’s deep voice filtering from the living area, along with a chuckle that sounds forced.
“Bill,” Dad immediately says as Emmett finishes typing something on his phone before he locks the screen and centers his attention on me.
It’s not the first time someone has done a double take in my presence, especially over the past couple of months. My body has changed a lot since I was eighteen—and not just because of the pregnancy. My hair is fuller and longer and has naturally turned a deeper red that I love. In my teens, I struggled with recurring acne on my cheeks and chin, but the Texan sun helped to cure my skin complaints and gave me a healthy glow I’d never managed to achieve living in Brooklyn. All that said, I know the main reason behind people’s surprised reaction is how freaking huge this pregnancy has made me. I have stretch marks where I never thought skin could stretch, and trying to carry a baby—who I’m told will be well over nine pounds when born—inside my five-foot-four frame is a challenge, to say the least.
I quirk a brow at Emmett just as my dad receives a call, no doubt from the recently appointed overbearing principal at the school where he works.
He begins speaking and slips into the kitchen, closing the door behind him and leaving me and Emmett alone. Hades, my mom’s black cat, sits next to Emmett on the couch.
My gaze tracks from Emmett to the large, glittery purple gift bag set down by his feet.
His cheeks flush a light pink when I point at the bag, lips twisting into an amused smile.
“Is the oversize bag to hide the bottle of wine you brought back from your fancy trip to Italy?”
Emmett sits back on the couch, crossing his left leg over the opposite knee.
Listen, I might be heavily pregnant, and this guy might be more like family, but we all have that one hot uncle who you can’t help snatching a sneaky glance at every once in a while. Especially when you turned sixteen and boys became more interesting with their shirts off. Emmett Richards is exactly that “uncle” for me. The girls in high school would incessantly ramble on about how I should invite him to give a talk during physical education or how I should find a way to palm his tight hockey butt and pass it off as a slip of the hand.
And I have thought about how firm his ass really is, right around the time we went away as a group on a vacation to Miami and he removed his shirt in one easy motion when we spent a day at the beach.
I wet my lips and quickly roll them together, attempting to suppress thoughts I shouldn’t be having.
Ever.
I’m pregnant, and I don’t even know if I’m single.
Not that, if I were single, it would ever be appropriate to think about my dad’s best friend—who just happened to be fourteen years older than me—getting naked.
Let’s not even talk about his square-framed glasses or the way the black frames contrast perfectly with one of the finest male complexions I’ve ever seen.
Emmett Richards is nice to look at, and I’d either need to be blind or not yet born to miss his good looks.
