My Ex's Baby (Crescent Cove 8)

If she’d pledged undying devotion to me, I couldn’t have been more floored.

She brushed tentative fingers through my hair. “You’re easy to lo—care about,” she added, thereby deflating my momentary joy.

Not entirely, since she’d just admitted to wanting my baby. But she was Kinleigh, so she always had a pin at the ready.

This pin was that she couldn’t say the word love. I wasn’t even convinced she didn’t feel it for me. Saying it was harder. I got that. I’d wait.

I’d wait forever if I had to.

“Why do I love you?” I picked up her hand and kissed her fingertips, one by one. “Because you can turn a pair of worn-out jeans into a masterpiece.”

“Huh?”

I had to laugh. “You have a vision. An eye for seeing how to remake the broken into something new. Something special. You have a way of unearthing all the hidden nooks and crannies that were overlooked. Someone else might see a pile of junk. To you, it’s a treasure.”

She curled into me, laying her head on my shoulder. I only gripped her hand harder.

“Even though you’re so good at finding beauty, you’ve never seen what Ivy and I do when we look at you. What so many people in this town do. You don’t see your wit or your kind heart or your wicked sense of humor, when you relax enough to laugh. You don’t see that I’d be willing to wait forever for you to realize you love me, because I know there will never be anything better than being one of Kinleigh’s treasures.”

She made a sound caught between a laugh and sob, and my chest ached as if she’d pummeled it with both fists.

“Oh, August. Don’t worry, I brushed my teeth,” she added before she pressed her lips to mine.

Arousal and need and longing swam into me in equal measure. On top of them all was love.

I cupped her head, taking her mouth in a kiss that was deep and sweet, long and slow. The kind of kisses we hadn’t had nearly enough of.

That was going to change.

Dimly, I heard Kinleigh’s door opening and a flurry of footsteps a second before my sister’s delighted laughter. “Yay, I got here just in time to see the credits-worthy kiss.”

I eased back and rubbed my fingertips underneath Kinleigh’s eyes. She was still crying silently. I hoped they were mostly happy tears now, but I just didn’t know. “No, we’re not to the credits yet. We still have a test to take.”

Kinleigh laced her fingers with mine as she held out her other hand for Ivy, who rushed over to take it. “And I have a story to tell you.” She bit her lip, glancing between us in turn. “Both of you.”

Twenty-Three

I wasn’t sure if it was nerves jumping in my belly or if it was the remnants of a soda and stale coffee cake. Though I’d have to assume all of that was out of my system at this point.

Baby.

I was really pregnant.

Goddess, all this time?

I let go of Ivy and her brother and with shaking fingers, I quickly did up the buttons on my shirt and zipped up August’s hoodie. I didn’t want to own up to how many nights I’d fallen asleep with the soft cotton wrapped around me like a security blanket.

I turned toward Ivy. “Is Rhiannon okay?” I’d meant to ask before, but it had been pure chaos.

“Rory won’t put her down, so they’re both sleeping in the rocker.” She curled her fingers around my hand again. “Now stop stalling.”

I gripped hers back. “Yeah, okay.” I swallowed tightly and glanced at August, who slung his arm around my shoulders and tucked me closer. Immediately, his warmth seeped into my bones. It wouldn’t make the telling any easier, but there was nothing but trust in this room and I wouldn’t waste it.

“It’s not like it’s a long drawn-out story.”

“It doesn’t matter, we just want to hear it.” Ivy laced our fingers tightly.

“I was a foster kid for a while. My mom—if you want to call her that—wasn’t exactly the most loving woman. Most of the time, she left me alone or just ignored me. Those were the good times.”