He frowned. Which was not really the response a girl wanted when accepting a marriage proposal.
“Are you ready for that?” he asked.
She nodded. So ready. She’d had lots of time to think it over.
“I figured this time when I have the baby, I might try being married first.” She shrugged. “Also, surprise.” She made jazz hands. Which was hard, given that she was underneath him. “And oops.”
Gavin stilled, the creases of his forehead more prominent. “You’re…”
She nodded. “Apparently, your swimmers are beyond normal birth control methods. Something we’ll definitely need to take into consideration in the future.”
“You’re serious right now?” Gavin had hardly moved.
She nodded. She’d figured it out yesterday. Took a test. Took a day to let that sink in, let herself adjust to the idea, welcome the knowledge that Gavin would have her back on this. He wasn’t her ex. He wouldn’t be leaving.
“How far along are we?” Gavin asked, stroking her temple as a gentleness in his gaze she’d never experienced before took hold. Hell, if getting that stroke of softness came from being pregnant, she might be willing to do this again.
“I need to see a doctor to confirm, but it looks like we’re about a month or so in.” Given her calculations.
That got her the biggest of big Gavin grins. “We’re having a baby?”
“Uh-huh. We’re having a baby.” She rolled her tongue over the edge of her bottom lip.
The smile that stretched across his face seemed to go from ear to ear.
“So I’d…ah…” She cleared her throat. “Like to take you up on your proposal.”
“Big wedding?” he asked.
Hell to the no.
“Courthouse.” Definitely not big. And definitely no time for a fuss.
She’d learned that she still loved Evelyn, but she didn’t want to give her soon-to-be-mother-in-law the opportunity to turn her life inside out with wedding plans. Evelyn took to Molly like her fake cat took to chicken broth. A fraudulent cat with very specific preferences on his pretend chicken broth.
Rachel wasn’t lying. Evelyn was the queen of manipulation.
Molly was taking lessons, happy to be Duchess of Manipulation or princess or however all of that worked. She wasn’t sure, but she figured as a step-mom to two and a birth-mom to at least another two…she needed to get her manipulation technique down.
She was leaning toward a fake Beagle as her manipulation tool. She’d always wanted one. They were just so cute.
“When are we doing this?” he asked.
Of course, he’d want details with this commitment.
“Now?” she offered.
“Should I send out texts or do you want to?” He was all business in his birthday suit.
She couldn’t erase the smile stuck to her mouth. “You make the arrangements. I’ll send the invites.”
Without emojis.
Maybe one emoji.
A heart emoji was totally acceptable.
No. A brick emoji. That’s what today called for.
