“Not before I get a picture.” Kate scrambled up so fast she almost knocked over her glass which, now that I noticed, still looked suspiciously full.
I smiled for the photo, then narrowed my eyes as I stepped down. Come to think of it, she’d cried all afternoon and hadn’t touched her drink once.
“Kate,” I said slowly. “Is there a reason you’ve been an absolute blubbering wreck and still haven’t touched your champagne?”
Gwen cut her a sharp look. Kate flushed crimson.
“Mrs. Taylor…” Gwen drawled.
Kate looked like a deer caught in headlights before she finally huffed. “Fine.” Her hand drifted to her stomach, a wry smile tugging at her lips. “I’m pregnant.”
“WHAT?!” Gwen and I gasped in unison.
“I wasn’t going to tell you today,” she rushed on. “It’s your special moment, Orla. But yeah, almost twelve weeks. We had our first scan a few days ago. Turns out getting drunk on yourwedding night after you stop breastfeeding isn’t exactly stellar birth control.”
“Oh my God, Kate!” Gwen shrieked, launching at her.
I nearly ripped off the gown to hug her too. Laughing through tears, I pulled her in tight. “You’ll be bloody beautiful in a maternity bridesmaid dress, don’t even think otherwise.”
She laughed, watery and glowing. “Today’s about you, Orla. But just so you know, those weren’t hormonal tears, you genuinely looked breathtaking.”
“I’m so happy for you,” I said, still clutching her hand. “But Jesus, I can’t believe you’re pregnant again.”
“Does that man have a breeding kink or what?” Gwen replied dryly.
Kate glared at Gwen with mock offence while I snorted so hard I nearly doubled over.
“Oh my God, Gwen!” Kate swatted her, blushing furiously.
“What?” Gwen grinned, raising her champagne. “I’m just saying, I think he’s trying to prove a point now.”
Chapter 58
Orla
The doorof our top floor apartment closed behind me, the London chill still clinging to my cheeks and the tips of my ears. Tyler was sprawled across the sofa, looking distractingly gorgeous with his rippling abs and tattoos on display. His joggers lay temptingly low on his hips. The grin tugging at his mouth grew the second his eyes landed on me as he rose to his feet to greet me at the entrance way.
“Well,” he drawled, eyes sweeping me head to toe. “Judging by that look on your face, I’m guessing you found it.”
I sloped over, my hands sliding instinctively to his waistband, heart still overwhelmingly full from the boutique. “I certainly did,” I said, grinning.
“What’s it like?” he teased.
I bit my lip, shaking my head. “You’ll have to wait until the day, dear husband.”
He groaned dramatically. “Unfair. Whatever it looks like, you know I’m gonna be itching to tear it off you the second you walk down the aisle. I’ll call them tomorrow and pay for it.” That cocky glint in his eyes that always undid me.
Just before my lips reached his, my eyes were drawn over his shoulder and that’s when I saw it, the bottle of champagne on the table, and next to it, the unmistakable Louboutin scrawl across the signature brown box. My mouth fell open. “Tyler…” I warned, narrowing my eyes. “What did you do now?”
His mischievous grin told me all I needed to know. “It wasn’t all me!” He held his hands up in defence “Okay, I paid for them, but Kate picked them. If you hate them, we’ll exchange. Go on, open it.”
Heart thudding, I grabbed the box, my fingers twitching to open it. I lay it on my lap as I sat on the sofa. “Oh, by the way,” I said casually, lifting the lid, “Kate’s pregnant again.”
He barked a laugh. “Seriously? Jesus, we’ve got some catching up to do. That guy’s got me beat in all directions.”
I rolled my eyes, smiling as I peeled back the tissue paper and froze. My heart nearly stopped. Inside lay the most beautifully obscene pair of heels I’d ever seen: ivory satin, red soles gleaming, a bow at the back, sky-high and utterly impractical.
“Tyler…” I whispered, almost afraid to touch them.
