“Of course not,” he insists. “It’s my right ankle. I don’t need it to shift gears.”
“But you need it to use the brake, Quinn!”
He laughs in my ear. “I’m kidding, sweetheart. We’re gonna head back to the campsite and grab some food. The guys will go on another ride before it gets dark, but I’ll hang back at the tents.”
I sigh and shake my head. “You boys are going to be the death of me.”
“And to think, baby, we could have a boy just like me.”
“Bite your tongue,” I joke without really meaning it. Our child would be so lucky to be like his or her daddy.
He chuckles and says, “All right, we’re getting into Cade’s truck. I’ll call you later.”
“Yes, please.”
“Love you.”
I can’t help but grin. “Love you too.”
“See you tomorrow.”
“Bye.”
As soon as I hang up, Oaklee asks, “What’s going on?”
Slipping my phone back into my pocket, I reply, “Quinn sprained his ankle.”
“How? Did he trip over a log or something?” Lizzie asks.
I tell them what I was told and shake my head in resignation. “I should have known it was a dare or a bet or something.”
“He’s lucky he didn’t break his neck,” Oaklee grumbles. “Those Millers are going to be the death of me.”
“Hey, I’m a Miller!”
“Yes, but you’re not right in the thick of things, causing trouble,” Oaklee replies.
“Oh, I was growing up,” I insist with a laugh. “Usually, the one instigating the dare.”
“And Quinn isn’t a Miller,” Lizzie replies.
“No, but he’s a Cooper Town boy, and when they all get together, there always seems to be trouble,” Oaklee replies.
I reach for the handle and pull open the glass door. We step inside once more, bathed in the subtle scent of cotton and lavender. “True story.”
“Your mom deserves some kind of humanitarian award,” Lizzie says as we all move toward the baby section.
“Oh my God, look at this!” Oaklee hollers, holding up a cute little zip-up sleeper with farm animals on it.
“Adorable,” I agree, almost feeling overwhelmed as I look around. There’re so many cute items, and I have no clue what we’re going to need, or how much.
A gasp behind me has me spinning around. Lizzie’s holding up the sweetest little pink dress and a diaper cover with ruffles. “Please have a girl! I want to put her in dresses like this every day.”
I smile widely. “That’s so stinking cute,” I reply, “But something tells me that’s more of a special occasion dress.”
“What’s not special occasion about a Tuesday? I mean, come on.” She pulls a second one off the rack in a light green shade. “And one for Wednesday!”
I laugh and shake my head. “I don’t know that I need that stuff right now.”
