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“Mine too, now that you mention it. Jasper’s just gotten better at hiding the evidence.”
Emmie snorts. “So pumpkin painting?”
“Absolutely. But we’re buying washable paint, putting down three tarps, and making the men hose down the babies afterward.”
“Deal.”
I lean over and press a kiss to Ella’s warm little forehead. She sleeps right through it, blissfully unaware that her social calendar now includes pumpkins, paint, and Elliot, her tiny accomplice with absolutely no respect for warning labels.
Her first real Halloween.
Oh my goodness, I’m going to need more pumpkins.
“How are my favorite girls?” someone whispers in my ear, and I jump a little only to see my favorite man.
Jasper, my handsome hubby and favorite stress reliever, wraps an arm around my waist, pulling me back against him. The tension that’s been riding my shoulders since setup this morning quietly takes the hint and leaves.
I spin in his arms and take him in with that jet-black hair and pale gray eyes. He has a face that stops all women cold and a body that could stop a bullet in real time. He’s in a charcoal sweater and dark jeans that make him look unfairly good for someone who’s supposed to be working security tonight, and he’s looking toward the stage with the politely professional expression of a man who’s absolutely noticing the velvet.
Have I mentioned he’s a homicide detective? Given the fact I’ve practically made it a habit to trip over dead bodies, some might say we’re a match made in—well, the county morgue.
He leans down. “So much velvet and stilettos here tonight. Is this a new work uniform I should know about?”
“For them, not for me.” I laugh. “I’m a mommy who runs an inn. I live in yoga pants and denial.”
A slow smile crosses his face. “I could get behind the velvet, though. Hypothetically speaking.”
“Hypothetically, huh?” I tap his chest. “Well, hypothetically, I might just surprise you one of these days. I like to keep you on your toes.”
His grin goes deliciously dangerous. “I’m counting on it.”
Mom shakes her head. “Oh good grief, you two. At this rate, I’ll be planning another baby shower by Christmas.” Please let it be a boy this time, Mom thinks. I need to balance out all the estrogen in this family.
I bite back a smile. My mother does have a son and a grandson, but she’s right, the women still seem to dominate the Baker clan in general.
My name is Bizzy Baker Wilder, and I can read minds. Not every mind, not every time, but most of the time, and believe me when I say, it’s not all it’s cracked up to be—especially when my mother is putting in an order for more grandkids. I can read the minds of animals too and they always have much more interesting things to say. Like, every single time.
Georgie raises the cupcake in her hand. “I’ve got five dollars on twins. Any takers?”
Jasper and I exchange a look.
“No,” I say quickly. “Nobody take that bet. The universe has ears, and Georgie, you have a disturbing winning streak.”
Jasper nods. “We’re barely surviving the one we have.”
“Surviving is generous. Last night Ella woke up three times because apparently sleep is something she no longer believes in.”
Georgie takes a bite of her cupcake. “Twins would be adorable.”
“Twins would finish us off.”
Jasper slips an arm around my waist. “On the bright side, we’d be too tired to notice.”
I look up at him. “That’s not the bright side you think it is.”
Ella has been snoozing happily against my shoulder, but her daddy’s voice is working its magic, and soon those sleepy gray eyes pop open and zero in on him.
Her entire face lights up.
