He stands. Pulls me up with him. My bad ankle is fine now. It's been fine for six months. He still takes my weight the way he did in the beginning because the habit didn't leave, and I let him because I don't want it to.
He wraps both arms around me.
Careful, the way he is.
Not as careful as he was.
I tip my head back against his chest. I can feel his heart under my ear. Steady. A touch faster than usual. Only I'd know.
"Hawk."
"Yeah."
"Ghost is going to be a terrible big brother."
He laughs into my hair.
Real laugh. Low and warm. The one I earned back on a Reno sidewalk and still hear like the first time.
"Ghost is going to be the best big brother this mountain has ever seen."
"He's going to lie across the nursery door."
"He's going to guard that door with his life."
My eyes sting.
I press my face into his Henley.
He runs a hand down my back. Slow. Settles it at the base of my spine.
"You're shaking."
"I'm happy."
"I know."
"I didn't know I'd be this happy."
"Me either."
Ghost gets up from the doorway. Shoulders his way between us because he's a ten-year-old dog who does not understand personal space. Pushes his muzzle into the side of my thigh.
Garrett looks down at him.
"We're having a baby."
Ghost's tail thumps once.
Garrett looks back at me.
"May."
"May."
"I'll get Parker to officiate. He'll cry."
"He will."
