“Lottie, I’mgonna—”
“Mag,” I cut him off, “you’regonnaget married tomorrow.The end.”
Mag was silent.
I was silent.
He broke it first.
“Have I thanked you, darlin’?”
I smiled.“No.”
“Thank you, Lottie,” he said softly.
What he was thanking me for, it was my pleasure.
“Don’t mention it.Glad you’re happy.Glad you’re makingEvie happy.Now go get some rest.You don’t need bags under your eyes in thephotos tomorrow.”
“Like that’ll happen,” he muttered.
“It happens, even to dudes,” I told him.“You need tohydrate and get sleep, or you’ll have puffy eyes.”
“I meant resting, babe.”
Oh.
He was excited to make it official.
I loved that for Evie.
I loved it more for Mag.
Though I didn’t share that with Mag.
He already knew it.
“Igottacheck on Mo and Pooks.Make sure he’s got her down.You good?”I asked him.
“I’m good, darlin’.Say hey to Mo for me and remind him thetime we’re hooking up tomorrow and not to forget the ring.”
“He won’t forget the ring,” I assured him.“Later, Mag.”
“Later, Lottie.”
“At least try to rest.”
Soft and sweet came, “I will, darlin’,” and I was again ohso glad Evie was getting a lifetime of that.
And glad Mag had Evie to give it to.
We hung up and I placed my phone on the charge pad before Imoved through the kitchen, the living room and up the stairs.
I stopped at the top landing, my breath suddenly catching inmy throat.
Mo was in the nursery with our baby girl.
I didn’t know this because he’d taken her up there twentyminutes ago to put her down.
