I smiled softly. Alistair was currently overseeing the movers as they packed up his place in London. His and Kenna’s relocation to Braeburn had everyone excited, especially Aisling, who was eager to have her little cousin around. I passed the envelope off to Locke. He opened it, revealing passes for a long weekend getaway to a resort in the Canary Islands, to be used anytime within the next year.
“We wanted to send you on a babymoon,” Lena said, “but it’s a little late for that.”
Mel nodded in agreement. “Traveling in the third trimester is miserable.”
“So, this is a ‘when you’re ready’ voucher,” Weston explained. “Whenever you feel comfortable taking a weekend to yourselves.”
“And it goes without saying that we’ll be happy to babysit,” Lena said, smiling.
“Aww, you guys,” I said. “That’s really sweet. Thank you.”
Locke stood and clapped Weston on the shoulder. The two of them hugged. Aisling threw herself down beside me again, leaning her head on my shoulder.
“I’m going to babysit too,” she said. “I’ll be thebestbabysitter. ’Cause I’m going to practice.”
“Are you going to change the stinky nappies?” Locke asked, picking her up and sitting down with her in his lap instead. She giggled.
“Yep!”
“There we go,” he said, nudging my shoulder. “We have an official nappy changer.”
“That’s the real gift,” I said.
Aisling preened, then snuck off to the cupcake table again.
“Aisling,” Lena called, her voice stern.
“Just one more,” she called, the angelic expression on her face marred by the way her lips were already covered in blue frosting.
Lena sighed, and Weston chuckled.
Agnes came up behind me, rubbing my shoulders. “My gift is already in your deep freeze. I’ve made you enough scones to last until the baby comes.”
I gasped, snapping my head up to look at her. “Are you joking? If you are, I’m going to start crying again.”
Agnes kissed my cheek. “I never joke about my baking.”
“You’re brilliant,” Locke told her. “Now I don’t have to stress about what to do when she’s crying about scones at two a.m.”
“That happenedonetime,” I pouted.
“Do you know how traumatizing it is being woken up by a woman sobbing over scones?”
People around us chuckled as he relayed the story, and my chest warmed. He looked so damn happy.
“The cravings are wild sometimes,” Mel agreed. “With Lucy, all I wanted was slightly burnt toast.”
“I had a week where I ate nothing but pickles dipped in peanut butter,” Jo said. She walked over with another large package.
“Oh, that’s from us!” Locke’s mom called, inching closer.
“From both of you?” Locke said as his dad shuffled over. He lowered his voice, murmuring in my ear. “Well, now I’m nervous.”
I nudged him playfully, dropping the box into his lap. “Go on. See what it is.”
He tore the wrapping paper off, opened the lid, then immediately put it back down again. “Oh, Christ. You didn’t.” He covered his face with his hand, shaking with silent laughter.
His mom put her hand to her lips, only partially hiding a massive grin. “But it’s so adorable.”
