“Of course. We’ll have dinner when things are a little calmer.” My dad provides logic to this conversation.
As Gracie turns, my mother speaks up. “Ginger. Lots of ginger. Oh, and send me photos.”
I roll my eyes. “Run, Gracie, run.”
She walks away, but I feel heavy eyes on me. Turning in my seat, I face my parents.
“Well, this is news.” My dad’s neutrality is appreciated,proven by the fact that he cooly inspects the glass of wine he is holding.
My mom leans back to rest against the chair, and she crosses her arms. “Huh. I didn’t see this coming, but…” She shrugs. “Mazel tov. Now, will you pass the bread?” She too has returned to earth as though the last five minutes didn’t happen.
I’m relieved in one way. Another item off the checklist of preparing for the shift our lives are about to take.
Drifting my gaze to the entrance of the room, I see Gracie looking tensely at her brother, and I hate saying it while she’s stressed, but she is glowing and still beautiful. She survived meeting my parents, and that gives me comfort that she and I can be a team. The kind that has nothing to do with hockey, instead our personal lives. The part of life that actually matters. A career is temporary, but your relationships with others are forever.
We’re connected, and it’s up to us to figure out in what way.
CHAPTER 11
GRACIE
My brother stops in the middle of the parking lot with the barn on one side and the inn on the other, and Christmas lights all around nearly blinding me. He is an outdoorsman which means it doesn’t bother him that it’s a bitter chilly winter night. Drew is technically my half-brother, but to me, that never crosses my mind. The age difference is vast, which means sometimes I feel like I have a brother and other times two dads.
He crosses his arms and juts his chin out. “What the hell was that?”
I laugh weakly. “What?” I play dumb.
He stares at me blankly. “Don’t play cute. You and the hockey coach in a battle of whispers. Something I need to know?”
“Nope.” I tear my eyes away and find a focal point on the stuffed life-size Santa Claus sitting on a tractor.
“Really? Funny thing is that I’ve known you since birth, and I know when you are lying. So, what? Are you seeing that guy or something?”
Popping my lips repeatedly isn’t helping me in this situation. “Not exactly.”
“Okay, then it’s no problem that I mention to Dad that my little sister was in an odd situation and thought he might be curious to know.”
“Don’t!” That sounded far too vigorous. My eyes slice straight through him because he just walked me straight into his trap.
Drew’s eyes grow big. “There we go. Somethingisgoing on.”
I notice my breath misting in the air because it’s freaking beyond cold. “Can you just let it go for now?”
He steps back and assesses my stance for what seems like an eternity. “No.” His brows furrow as he studies me more. “No way.” I’m surprised by his sudden choice of words. Then I remember that his wife belongs to the Blisswood family and there is barely a time that a woman in that family isn’t pregnant. He doesn’t need to study me long to figure out the root of my nerves. An almost devilish smirk formulates on his mouth while he rubs his fingers over his chin. A rumbled laugh in his throat is concerning. “Pregnant, huh?” He whistles. “Dad and Piper are going to love this news about their little princess.” He takes pleasure in this but not in a malicious way, that’s just not in him.
I step to him and stand tall. “You. Will. Not. Tell. Them,” I urge.
He raises his hands up. “Oh, don’t you worry. I’m leaving that all to you.”
I huff a breath because this night is not happening. Every plan that was formulated in my head has failed. First, with Asher’s parents and my careless slip, and now my brother knows my news, too.
His enjoyment from my unexpected news that my dadmost definitely will flip out over is cooled to pure affection. “If you are happy about this then I’m happy about this.” The honesty in his face warms any heart, always has.
My body eases, and I can’t help but break out in a smile. “I am. I really am. Almost done with the first trimester, so I guess my accidental confession to Asher’s parents and you are not so bad.”
He touches my shoulder. “You’ll be a good mom. You’re a great aunt.” His twin girls are only a few years younger than me, but when they were babies and I was eight, I treated them like living dolls.
“I think so too.”
