A mix of emotion flitted through her. She wanted who she wanted, despite the latest obstacle standing in their way. “I do. Do you know how I feel?”
His smile was his only reply.
“Please stop for wine,” she reminded him.
En route to his mom’s, he stopped at the grocery store. There, she purchased a red and a white.
As Rebel drove out of the parking lot, Brit asked, “How did Providence and Dakota know?”
“The guys knew, so Cooper might’ve said something to Providence. All I know is that Hawk didn’t say anything.”
“How’d the guys know?”
“They know me. They see the way I look at you, how we are when we’re together.”
“That’s it?”
“That’s it,” he replied. “We gotta disclose to HR, babe.”
“Okay.” After a second, she added, “You’re so good with kids.”
He wrapped his fingers around her thigh, gave her an affectionate squeeze.
“We don’t want the same things,” she murmured. “You want to be a dad, and I… I…”
“It’s all good. Let’s spend a couple of hours hangin’ with the fam. They’re a motley crew, but I love ‘em.”
She threaded her fingers through his, and tried to breathe deep, but her chest was so damn tight. A wave of nausea rolled through her and she cracked open the window. The cool air helped settle her down.
Rebel parked in front of an older two-story split-level home tucked into a lovely Fairfax neighborhood. There were a few parked cars out front and one in the driveway.
Here we go.
Brit was cool under fire, but now, her heart was thundering away like a jackhammer. She collected the wine, and exited the vehicle.
“My sister’s here,” he said. “You’ll love her. She’s married with three kids.”
Rebel rang the doorbell a few times, opened the door, and waited for her to enter.
Talking and laughter floated from the kitchen as an avalanche of children came racing toward them.
“It’s Uncle Joaquin!” yelled two of the kids.
Rebel introduced her and rattled off their names.
One of the smaller ones grinned up at Rebel. “Can we have rides, Uncle Waaaa-keen?”
“I brought my friend, Brit, so I’m going to hang with her for now,” he said.
“Oh, no,” Brit whispered as six dejected children moped toward the kitchen. “They hate me.”
He dropped his arms over her shoulders, peered into her eyes. “Learning the word ‘no’ is a valuable lesson.”
“Seriously, do your thing with them.”
A middle-aged woman walked over, a warm smile on her face. “You must be Britain. I’m Elizabeth, Joaquin’s mom.
“It’s so nice to meet you.” Brit held out the bottles. “These are for you. Thank you for having me.”
