Pit Stop: Baby! (Crescent Cove 4)

“Right. Okay.” I popped my knuckles and paced her small living room.

She came back out a few minutes later, drying her hands on a hand towel. “We have to wait like three minutes and five minutes for one.”

I looked down at my watch and set my timer. “The longest five minutes of my life.”

“We can check in three.”

“But then if they’re all done, we’ll know for sure.”

“Smart. Not sure how you can wait that long, but you know, we can.”

I went to her and grasped her hands. “Do you feel…different?”

“Considering I was shocked when Macy put this stupid idea in my head? Yeah, I’m going to say no.”

I played with her fingers. “Stupid question.”

“How do you think it happened? If, you know, we are.”

I resisted the urge to smile. She’d said we, not I. It was the little things. “All I can figure is when we got into the hotel and you jumped me. I wasn’t thinking and you felt so fucking good that even after I came, I was still hard and kept…” I blew out a breath. “Every guy knows to pull out after you finish so something stupid doesn’t happen, but I wasn’t fucking thinking.”

“You do have amazing resiliency.”

“Thanks, I think.”

She shook her head. “God. Has it been three minutes?”

“Five, remember?”

“At three, we can start.”

“No, five, then we know for certain.”

She closed her eyes and shook out her hands. “You are much too calm about this.”

Surprisingly, I was. Because nothing had ever felt so right in my life.

When my watch beeped, Rylee ran to the bathroom. I followed and at her gasp, I smiled.

She came out with three wands in her hand. She glanced up at me, her huge dark eyes larger than I’d ever seen them. “Every single one says yes.”

I picked her up and swung her around. “We’re having a baby.” I dropped a kiss on her shocked mouth.

“Holy crap, I guess we are.”

Twelve

The best way to deal with something was to rip the Band-Aid off. Or so I’d heard. So, I’d chosen the smaller Band-Aid to attack first.

Sister reveal, then parents, then the town at large.

God, if ever I’d needed alcohol, this was it. But nope, I was officially a teetotaler until I birthed my young.

Childbirth.

I couldn’t even keep a job for two weeks lately, but I could parent a newborn. Sure. No big.

After a brief talk about this pregnancy not being a crisis—ha, lies—I’d sent Gage home and promptly fallen asleep on the couch. Unaided, without any apps. And I hadn’t moved for the better part of six hours.