Cat nods. “I won't even make you plan a bachelorette party if you don't want to.”
“Shush! I want to,” Pippa says, jumping up and hugging Cat. “Thank you. I’d love to.”
“Pippa’s not the only one I want up there with me,” Cat says. “Maura and Brinley, would you be my bridesmaids?”
Tears spring to my eyes. Even though Cat was in my wedding party, I never expected her to reciprocate. It feels like she’sextended an official welcome to the inner circle. This time, it’s not a favor to James—I’ve been chosen.
“Of course, Cat.” I grin, wrapping my arms around myself. “Thank you.”
Brinley raises her hand. “Before I say yes, have you picked out the dresses already? Because you should know, I look tragic in pastel chiffon.”
The table chuckles. “I promise you veto power,” Cat says.
Brinley pretends to think. “Then yes. A thousand times, yes!”
Nate opens a bottle of champagne and starts pouring. When he gets to me, he says, “I know you don’t drink much, but it still feels polite to offer.”
I smile. “I'm good, thanks. I'm actually going to step out on the terrace for some air.” My nausea has cooperated this long, and I don't want to tempt fate by putting it through dessert.
Leaving the chatting group, I walk over to the terrace doors and into the spring air. It's the warmest evening I can remember in months, but the apartment is high enough that there’s still a strong breeze. I hug my arms around myself.
A moment later, the door opens behind me. A familiar smelling jacket settles on my shoulders—James.
“Feeling okay?” he asks.
“I feel amazing, actually.” He steps next to me at the terrace railing, and I lean against his shoulder. “I can't believe Cat asked me to be in her wedding. I didn't have a ton of close friends, thanks to Victor. I never thought I'd get to be a bridesmaid.”
James hums. “I get it. After my parents died, the circle of people I trusted became—well, pretty much just the guys.”
“Is it scary to let yourself trust that many people?” I ask.
He considers for a moment. “In theory, yes. But I know that I could ask everyone in that room for help, and they’d step up, no questions asked. Well, Brinley might have a few questions, which is fair. We don’t know each other that well.”
“She’d help you for my sake. She might give you shit about it, but she’d step up.”
James’s hand wraps around my waist. “How are you feeling? With the morning sickness, I mean.”
“It’s not amazing. And we’ve got to stop calling it morning sickness, instead of all-day awfulness. But I’d take morning sickness over the anxiety any day.”
“What are you anxious about?”
I put a hand over my stomach. “I’m scared of hoping too much. Something could still happen.”
“I’m scared too,” James admits. “But I’d choose this risk every time if it meant having you and the baby.”
I turn into his arms, raising my lips to his. His mouth opens instantly for me, his tongue pressing hungrily against mine. He clutches me hard against him and I press up on my toes, not wanting an inch of space between our bodies. Our teeth clash as James devours me and steals my breath. His fingers dig into my waist, all his careful self-control evaporated.
There are no walls, no deflection. For the first time, I let James feel everything I do, and he does the same.
I only break away when I’m too breathless to keep kissing. When I glance up at James, a lock of dark hair falls over his forehead. I smile and press it back.
“Take me home,” I murmur.
James's eyes glitter in the evening light. “Home,” he repeats. “I like the sound of that.”
He puts his hand on my lower back and guides me toward the elevator. And for the first time, I let myself imagine a future where I actually get to keep this.
All of it. Him, our baby, the life we're building together.
