“I’m guessing.” He shrugs, holding his arms out to me now. “You okay?”
“I . . .” I push a breath through pursed lips. “I think so. I . . .” Bursting into tears, I cover my face with my hands just as his arms wrap around me.
“Shh. It’s okay. You’re okay, babe. I got you.”
“You sure about that?” I try to laugh, but it comes out a sob. “The timing sucks.” I sniff, burying my face between his pecs. His baritone chuckle soothes me. I press my ear tighter to his chest and let its echo vibrate my cheek.
“It’s perfect. You’re perfect.”
“Thank you for saying that.” I sniff again and swipe my fist down my cheek.
“If everyone waited for the exact right time to have a baby, there’d be . . . a lot less babies,” he finishes lamely, chuckling at his awkward attempt at a pep talk. “Okay, so clearly you’re the motivational speaker of the two of us. But, Ever, we’re going to be fine. Great, even. And I know four people who are going to flip when they find out.”
“Speaking of, how am I supposed to go back out there and pretend nothing’s up?”
“I say we go give the room something else to celebrate.”
“Right now? What if . . . it happens again?” My breath comes out shaky as I lean my head back to look at him, gauge his real mood beyond the comforting platitudes.
“It won’t. It can’t.” He looks steady, calm as he tucks a strand of hair behind my ear, kisses me softly on the lips and nods once like saying it out loud makes it so. “But we can wait—say whatever you want. Just not sure what they’ll believe.”
His confidence permeates my worry and squashes it. I nod.
“Okay?” He grins like a little kid.
I swallow and nod again.
Stepping back into our private party room, every head turns our way as the din of conversation lulls.
Julian pulls me in closer to his side and clears his throat. “Guys, it seems Ever wants to get all the celebrating done at once. She’s . . . we’re”—his Adam’s apple bobs in his throat—“having a baby.”
Erupting applause thunders through the room just as the waiter steps around us in the doorway. Julian stops her and asks if she can take away the sea bass and bring him a cup of the soup of the day despite the Southern California heat. To me, he whispers, “It’s chicken and wild rice, nice and mellow. I’ll eat your alfredo.”
My eyes prick with tears again at his thoughtful gesture.Okay, pregnant hormones: check.
Stopping her as she proceeds to check on the other guests, he adds, “Can we also get some champagne for the room and a ginger ale for my wife?”
She nods and tells the room at large that she’ll be right back.
Allie cries. So does Jason. Throughout the rest of the meal, Jason and Shanna share stories of her three pregnancies as well as how twins run in his family. Ever was already pale from the bout of queasiness. That disclosure drops her color another shade.
“Jase, don’t scare the girl. Geez. Ever, don’t listen to him.” Shanna smacks his arm.
Allie chimes in. “I was a twin, remember? I mean, there’s no blood tie, but twins can be fun. A built-in best friend.”
“Or twice as much of . . . everything,” I reply somberly.
Julian can tell the day is overwhelming me. As soon as politely possible, he makes our excuses and takes me home, draws me a bath and happily joins me when I insist. An overwhelming day maybe, but a perfect ending with my perfect man.
Chapter 42
Julian
Six-ish Months Later
“Iswear you’re psychic,” I mock whisper to Jason as he sways back and forth, cradling our daughter in his arms. His only response is a quiet chuckle. He doesn’t even look up from the rosy face of Kylee Sutton McKay, not even a full day old. My arms are full of an identical rosy newborn, her brother, Davis Jayce, except my eyes are on the sleeping beauty in the bed next to where I stand. I’m more in awe and in love with her than I ever thought possible. I swipe the rogue tear that escapes my brimming eyes and return my hand to the swaddled infant.
“Maybe I manifested,” he concedes, to which I chuckle.
