Page 41 of Grant’s Heat

“Oh my God. You’re being such a guy right now.”

“And you’re being fucking adorable.”

“What?”

Time for a topic redirect. Now. “All right, a wedding cake,” I stated, bracing hands to my hips. “But I thought this was a baby thing, not a wedding thing?”

She scrunched up her nose and wiggled it back and forth, reminding me at once of a little bunny. It had to be one of the cutest faces I’d ever seen her make, and I couldn’t help but grin. Then wider.

Which led to the next action I couldn’t control myself from making. I pulled her body tight and close to mine. I held her there while she wrapped her arms around my waist, hugging me back freely. The moment was…nice. Over the last couple of months, we’d gotten very comfortable holding one another like this, in friendship and comfort. “Yep. Adorable,” I said and dipped in to give her an affectionate peck on the forehead. “It’s nice to see the brightness back in your eyes.”

For another long moment, Rio didn’t answer. I wasn’t surprised, but I was forced to acknowledge the new wave of tension through my system. It wasn’t like I hadn’t been through this before. Every once in a while—but seemingly more often lately—these moments of comforting intimacy ended with one of us becoming unusually quiet and then pulling away. I couldn’t vouch for why Rio did it, but I knew damn well what was happening when I did. All the pressure, potent and powerful, that the woman brought to my body in those moments.

In the deepest recesses of my mind, I imagined she did it for the very same reasons.

I’d forgotten Abbigail was standing in the room with us. As soon as the woman cleared her throat and awkwardly shifted her weight, it was obvious that Rio had too. When we turned and beheld the uncomfortable look on the mother-to-be’s face, we both dropped our arms. Rio jolted farther from me, blushing like Abbi had caught us doing something wrong.

Instantly, I was annoyed by that. Neither one of us should be guilted about hugging a friend. While Abbigail was one of the sweetest humans I knew—she had to be if she’d agreed to put up with Bas for the rest of her days—her demeanor seemed judgmental.

“Look at all the diapers I have.” Rio quickly got back to cracking the whip to break through the brick of discomfort in the air. “Just use them up, okay?”

She tilted her head up to ensure I was on the same page with her goal, and I was able to give her a quick, mischievous wink. “Yes, my queen.”

I bowed with a gallant sweep, enjoying her soft giggle as my reward. I turned and got busy with the diaper tower while the girls worked just beyond the kitchen island. They set out tray after tray of snacks and little sandwiches around the living and dining rooms for the party guests to enjoy. While they worked, they caught up on every topic under the sun. I was warmed from the inside out, listening to them chat away about everything from family gossip to what equipment was showing its age at the Abstract Catering kitchen.

Then Abbi grew unusually quiet. Rio noticed it about half a minute after I had. I kept my attention trained on my diaper creation, but my ears were sharply tuned to their conversation. Even the air in the room had gotten heavier. Yeah, beyond what it had been after Rio’s and my quick clinch. Based on that alone, I tried not to tense up too tightly, preparing for whatever verbal torpedo she was about to drop.

“Hey.” Abbi reached for Rio’s hands. “There’s something I’ve been wanting to ask you, and there just hasn’t been a good time.”

I could see Rio stiffen at the contact, but she quickly recovered. She wasn’t naturally comfortable with unsolicited physical contact, and the ability to hide it from outsiders had gotten much worse since Sean’s death. Truth be told, many of her standard coping mechanisms had slipped since the accident. I’d definitely noticed—a fact she was very aware of, as well. Though I tried suggesting she find a grief counselor or even a support group, that conversation had ended with the woman kicking me out and telling me to never come back.

Needless to say, she’d been much more dramatic lately, too.

But Abbigail knew her better than I did, meaning she also knew to hold on tightly, not letting Rio pull away. She ducked her head, re-engaging her sister-in-law’s stare before speaking. “If it makes you unhappy or uncomfortable, you have to promise you will be honest and tell me, okay?”

“With this kind of lead-in, girlfriend, you’re already freaking me out. Not going to lie,” Rio answered back pertly. Her go-to way of handling uneasy moments was to distract with sass and disarm with wit.

“Well…” The woman took a long breath. “Sebastian and I were talking. With your blessing, of course, we’d like to name the baby Kaisan Sean instead of Kaisan Albert.” Abbi studied Rio’s reaction with her enormous green eyes, trying to interpret every twitch and tic. “How do you feel about that?”

“I think that’s a beautiful idea, Abbi. It’s a lovely way to honor your brother’s legacy. Your son will be proud to share his uncle’s name one day when you share your memories with him.”

“And when you share them too.”

Rio only answered that by pulling her sister-in-law in for a tight hug. But the intensity of the embrace didn’t match the rest of her mien. Her face was impassive and her eyes were completely dry. Abbi was spilling over with rivers of tears and torrents of emotion. I couldn’t help but wonder if Abbigail discerned the way Rio only referred to Sean concerning his relationship to Abbi.

“Are…are you sure?” The pregnant woman dabbed her cheeks with the back of her fist.

Again, Rio responded with evasive action instead of direct communication. As if bolting from a burning bush, she broke away from their embrace and came over to where I was building the diaper tower. On a small end table nearby, there was a box of tissues. I grabbed the cube and thrust it toward her, not about to throw away the chance to make eye contact with her. But all I received for my trouble was another huge dose of deflection. She tossed me a quick eye roll, plastered on a ridiculously fake smile, and turned back toward Abbi.

“You little lawn sprinkler, you. Here. Fix all that before you ruin your makeup. You don’t want to look like a raccoon in all the pictures today.”

Her singsong voice cut through my eardrums like an ice pick.

After grabbing a tissue and dabbing her tears away, Abbi got serious again. “Why are you pretending this is all okay when clearly it’s not? I really thought this would be a good thing. That you’d be happy…”

Rio sighed heavily and flopped down on the oversize ottoman in the living room area. The one-story bungalow had been opened up to flow freely from one space to the next. My realtor, Char, would call it “open concept.” It was a perfect way to get the most out of a small amount of square footage.

“Honey, listen,” Rio finally said, sounding frustrated and weary…such a smaller version of her normal bold brilliance. “I’m fine with you naming your child whatever you want. It’s your baby, Abbigail. Let’s not make a big deal out of it, okay? I want this day to have only good memories attached to it.” She finished by rounding her slim shoulders forward.