“Have you told him—”
“No.”
“But you’re going to—”
“Leave it be, Sir Pink-a-lot.”
Thankfully, he didn’t push. He knew me better than that.
Instead, he just nodded and leaned casually against the table, letting the silence stretch comfortably between us.
Deciding I should throw him a bone, I fished around in my bag and pulled out the grainy black-and-white photo the ultrasound tech had sent home with me after yesterday’s visit.
“Here.” I held it out to him discreetly, like we were doing some kind of shady drug deal.
“Is this—”
“Your future niece or nephew.” I nodded. “But don’t go waving it around.”
He studied the photo with a kind of reverence, holding it delicately between his fingers like it might crumble if he breathed too hard.
“Well, damn,” he whispered, blinking down at it. “Look at that little bean. You think it’s too early to say they’ve got my jawline?”
I couldn’t help the laugh that escaped me. “You wish.”
“Uncle Pink,” he murmured. “I like the sound of that.”
Somewhere behind us, Mo let out a low, mournful howl—probably because someone had finally blocked her from nabbing another hot dog.
“That dog is a menace.”
Pink grinned. “We should get one.”
“Abso-fucking-lutely not.” I twisted my lips in thought. “Although, you might be able to talk Nessa into it if you get her a pool.”
His eyes lit up. He looked at the photo for another second, then handed it back to me. Or at least, he tried to.
Just as the sonogram slipped between our fingers, a flash of brown and black fur bolted between us.
Fucking Mo.
With ninja-like speed, the floppy-eared chaos demon snatched the photo clean out of Pink’s hand and took off at a dead sprint.
“No!” I shrieked.
“Fucking hell, she stole your baby.”
We both took off after her—me clutching the front of my bikini top to avoid a nip slip and Pink sprinting at full speed, his half-finished margarita sloshing over the edge of his cup.
Mo bolted across the lawn like a four-legged bandit with a new chew toy, dodging discarded pool noodles, furniture, and anybody in her path.
“Don’t chase her,” Matty shouted. From the corner of my eye, I saw him pull himself up and over the pool’s edge. “She thinks you’re playing.”
Mo juked left, nearly colliding with Nessa, then doubled back, clearly thinking this was the greatest game ever invented. The sonogram flapped in her mouth like a victory flag.
There was no way I was going to let her win this one.
“Come back, you little gremlin,” I yelled, gaining on her. Even in a bikini, I could run circles around these guys. And their dogs, apparently.
