—Sorry. I’ve been in class all morning. Yes, I talked to Carson last night. He mentioned taking you to dinner. Are you going?
Slade had messaged Atticus shortly after he arrived at the office, confused by something Carson had said. He also wanted to find out if Carson was telling the truth, not manipulating him into doing something behind Atticus’s back.
That was almost two hours ago.
He picked up his phone to respond, the conversations around him growing louder.
—Do you want me to?
As soon as he sent the message, the three little dots started jumping.
—The question is, do you want to?
What kind of question was that? Slade didn’t know how to answer it. He wasn’t sure what the correct answer was. Yeah, he wanted to go to dinner with Carson, if for no other reason than to hear what he had to say. However, he didn’t want to do anything that would jeopardize what he and Atticus were starting to build.
Yes, they were taking things slow, but the past week had consisted of many conversations. Most of the time, he felt good after they talked, as though they were moving in the right direction. Other times, he wasn’t sure where he stood with Atticus.
His phone buzzed again.
—I think you should go. I think you two need to figure this out.
—Figure what out?
—Whatever’s going on between you.
—There’s nothing between us. I’ve told you that.
—But there could be.
Not for the first time since the night Atticus spent with him, Slade got the feeling Atticus was trying to pawn him off on Carson. He’d been getting mixed signals from the man. One minute, he was telling Slade he should give Carson a chance. The next, he was orgasming when Slade told him all the dirty things he intended to do to him when he got back. It didn’t make sense.
With that said, Atticus had been honest with him, letting Slade know he was talking to Carson and that he wasn’t sure where things stood with them. The night they spent together, neither one of them brought Carson’s name up. Not one single time. But Slade would be the first to admit he’d been there in the farthest recesses of his mind. Watching them. Getting off to what he witnessed. Slade had tried to ignore that particular fantasy, but it had lingered even after Atticus left.
—Have dinner with him. Then call me after, okay?
The barn door opened, and Brantley came in. Since it was obvious JJ was going to make an announcement, Slade shot a message back to Atticus.
—Fine. But if he kisses me, it’s your fault.
“What’s goin’ on?” Brantley asked, his full attention on JJ. “Everything good?”
“Better than good,” JJ said, reaching for Baz’s hand.
They stood there like that, beaming at all of them when JJ said, “We’re havin’ twins.”
The room went completely quiet for a second, then erupted in excited laughter and congratulations.
Slade couldn’t help but grin. JJ looked so happy. So did Baz. As for having twins … if they were happy, he was happy. He’d babysat a couple of his nieces and nephews over the years, but never when they were very little, so he couldn’t imagine the magnitude of that task. He figured one was far more than enough. Since he’d stopped thinking he might have kids of his own one day, he tended not to venture down that path.
“How is this a new revelation?” Brantley asked. “Aren’t you like seven months or somethin’?”
“Dr. Tinder said the baby boy—we haven’t come up with a nickname yet—was hidin’.”
“Do twins run in your family?” Becs asked, hugging JJ, then stepping back so Elana and Holly could do the same.
“No. Not in either family,” Baz answered.
“Dr. Tinder said it’s not uncommon for a woman who gets pregnant later in life to have a higher risk of multiples.”
