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“No.”

She sighed. “Okay. But you’re all right with it? Whatever it is you can’t tell me?”

“I’m still processing,” I admitted. “But yes. Brooks is Brooks.”

“And he’s the one for you,” she said. “So, you’ll take the good with the bad. I get it.”

“You’re the best, you know that? I mean, seriously the best.”

“Put it on a billboard, will ya?” she joked.

The front door to the apartment opened and Brooks came inside.

“Brooks is back,” I said.

“Tell himhifor me. And congratulations.”

“I will.”

“Oh wait, when are you getting married?” she asked.

“Don’t know. We’ll talk more about it later,” I said.

I hung up with her and set my phone aside and then got up from the bed.

“Hi,” I said.

“Hi.”

“Uh-oh. What’s wrong?” I asked, going to him.

He set the box of pastries down onto the counter, along with two to-go cups.

“Brooks?” I pressed.

“I want you to stay calm. Stress isn’t good for the baby.”

I peered at him. “Okay, I’m calm.”

“I called your grandfather when you were in the hospital. I told him who I was in relation to you—not the ex-con part, but the fiancé part.”

“Oh no,” I murmured.

He nodded.

“That means . . . he’s on his way here,” I said. “Isn’t he?”

“Yep.”

“Oh, this is going to be so bad,” I whispered.

“It won’t be that bad,” he assured me.

“You’ve never met my grandfather.”

“Well, I’m about to, aren’t I?” He grinned. “Now I can ask him in person for his blessing.”

I groaned and buried my head in my hands. “He’s going to have me committed.”