“You look like you could use one of these.”
I straightened, eyeing our host and the thin flute of orange fizz in his hand suspiciously. “What is that?”
Silas chuckled good-naturedly. “A mimosa. I’m sure you’ve had dozens, but nothing quite like mine. Go on. Try it.”
I thanked him and took a sip. I wasn’t a fan of fizzy drinks, but since he and Cooper had so graciously opened their home, it was literally the least I could do.
“Not bad.”
“Right?” He smacked my shoulder and turned to study the crowd gathered around the pregnant woman holding court near the fireplace. “Freya looks amazing.”
She did. In fact, she looked radiant. Freya glowed with that incandescent energy I’d always associated with expectant mothers. In the past month, her belly had swollen to near maximumcapacity. Random people fawned over her beauty and threw in their best guesses regarding the baby’s sex or told their own birth and delivery stories.
Freya took it all in, drinking in the experience with grace and gratitude. Yes, the money had been a factor, but she’d also had deeply private reasons for becoming a surrogate, and it seemed as if something had healed inside her. As if she’d finally learned how to live with grief rather than run from it and in doing so, she’d made room for a new version of herself—someone who was ready for the future.
I was proud of her. And maybe a little jealous.
“She does,” I agreed above the din of chatter, laughter, and the light strain of music drifting amongst the fifty or so guests mingling in Cooper and Silas’s great room.
A tent and heat lamps had been set up on the deck to accommodate the bar and the overflow of gifts that rivaled anything Santa would be hauling this time next month. The mood was joyful and bright in spite of the chill in the weather, and everyone was dressed in their Sunday best.
Silas sipped his mimosa. “This is the first weekend I’ve had off in months.”
“Ah, that’s right. You should be announcing a game.”
“I’m flying out tonight to cover Monday Night Football. The game is in Minnesota. It’s gonna be fucking freezing.”
“Lightweight,” I teased. “It’s only November. You’ll be fine.”
“Yeah, yeah. I don’t mind the weather. It’s being away from Coop and the kids that sucks. Especially at this time of year. I don’t even know if I’ll be here for the Thanksgiving flag football tournament. At least we’ve got you on the team now.”
I was saved from responding by Marly, who dove for a plate of appetizers someone had left in her reach. Reg, Cooper, Troy, and Dex came to assist and brought a couple of beers with them.
“You can lose the fufu champagne if you want,” Troy said, angling his chin at my drink.
“Hey, I made those,” Silas huffed. “But yeah…beer me.”
Dex laughed, his eyes crinkling at the corners and those dimples accenting his beautiful mouth. I tore my gaze away and took the bottle Reg handed me, clinging to the smallest distraction.
I wasn’t okay.
Don’t get me wrong. I was happy for my friends. Freya was thriving, Dex was over the moon, and like everyone in Wood Hollow, I looked forward to meeting the newest arrival next month. But whatever I was feeling had nothing to do with a baby and everything to do with the new dad-to-be. I couldn’t stand next to Dex without wishing he were mine.
Snap out of it, Viggo.
Reg raised his beer bottle in a toast. “To sleepless nights, dirty diapers, teething, tantrums, and years’ worth of worry and joy. So much joy. To Dex.”
“To Dex!”
“We’re rooting for you, man,” Troy piped in.
Dex grinned. “Thanks, Troy. And you’ll babysit too?”
Troy widened his eyes and slowly crouched, pulling a comical disappearing act. Our laughter caught the attention of the group surrounding Freya. She joined our circle, hugging Dex before linking her fingers with mine. There was lighthearted joking about Dexter wearing a baby papoose at practice and at the donut shop.
Speaking of the donut shop, Janey had a present for him to open now…a little something which turned out to be a baby onesie with the shop’s cartoon dancing donut logo. Everyone oohed and aahed, and someone decided it was a good idea to serve cake now so the rest of us would have something to do while Dex tackled the mountain of gifts at the hearth.
Dex whistled as he stabbed his fork into the buttercream and fudge concoction. “I could be here all night. Wanna help?”
