Bristol circuits a glance from me to the door to the glass of water in her hand a few times.
“Get out.” She takes a few gulps of the water and narrows her eyes at me. “You aren’t watching me pee.”
“So, I can eat you out but I can’t watch you pee? That makes sense.”
“Get out,” she repeats, pointing to the door. “And give me some privacy to do my business.”
I blow out an exasperated breath, head for the bedroom, and hover outside the closed bathroom door. I’m being an idiot, I know it, but I can barely breathe I’m so excited. The possibility of this actually happening, of my DNA and her DNA making something unique to us has me tripping.
After an eternity . . . or ten minutes . . . the door opens, and Bristol gestures me inside the bathroom. She has all six tests lined up on the counter. I don’t even glance at them, but search her expression for the verdict. Her face is blank, downright miserly, it’s giving away so little.
“So?” I hop back up onto the counter, still not looking at the little pissy sticks. “What we got?”
Bristol leans one hip against the counter to face me.
“You bought the first test in March, right?” she asks instead of getting on with it.
“Yeah.” I give a jerky nod, hoping she doesn’t make me feel like even more of a sentimental pussy than I already do.
“Your March test says . . .” A grin, infinitesimal in width but huge in impact on my heartbeat, quirks her lips. “I’m pregnant.”
We stare at each other for a few seconds, the moment swelling with all the possibilities. It could be a fluke. The other tests could negate that one.
“Your April test says I’m pregnant, too,” she says. “And your May and June tests agree.”
She slides three more sticks to me. I glance down to see four tests confirming what I’m almost afraid to believe in various shades of pink and plus signs.
“Apparently, July and August concur.” She pushes the last two tests to join the others, six sticks all saying the same thing.
“You’re pregnant.” My smile feels like it’s spilling over the sides of my face. “It’s definite.”
“I’d like to have a doctor confirm,” she says as mischief, awe, and tenderness swirl in the look she gives me. “But six tests probably don’t lie.”
I was determined to show restraint until we knew for sure. If she wasn’t pregnant, if even half those tests read negative, I would have maintained some kind of reserve, but she’s right—six tests don’t lie, and my resolve goes to hell. I eliminate all the space between us and scoop her right up off her feet. Her legs lock behind me, and a peal of laughter slips free, echoing in the bathroom.
“Is that your bird laugh again?” I smile my way into a kiss against her lips.
“It seems to pop out when I’m happier than anyone has a right to be.” Her cheeks are as wet as my eyes, and she presses our foreheads together. “We’re having a baby, Grip. I can’t even tell you what I’m feeling right now.”
For once, I’m in the same boat. Words are my business, but the feeling taking over every part of me leaves me speechless.
Chapter 32
Bristol
“IT’S SNOWING IN NEW YORK.”
Grip’s low-voiced comment from beside me at the dinner table makes me smile. Christmas in LA is not Christmas in New York. I’ve done it on both coasts, and a balmy Christmas doesn’t quite feel the same. Our friends and family are here, though, and we’re eating dinner with Ms. James then heading to Rhys and Kai’s. That first awful time I came here for dinner, I never would have imagined that this place would feel like a haven and my brother’s house would feel like hell, but Rhyson has invited my parents over for Christmas.
Armageddon, people. Armageddon.
This is something I’ve wished for and worked toward for a long time. I should feel less dread now that my parents and my brother will be at the same Christmas table again. The last time that happened, Uncle Grady, my father’s twin brother, hosted what I like to call Bloody Christmas and they nearly came to blows. Rhyson stormed off to spend the holidays with Kai, as if he needed motivation to abandon the family.
Christmas dinner with Grip’s family couldn’t be more different from the stiff affairs our holidays always proved to be. There is Christmas, I’ve had some pretty amazing highlights—my first recording contract, a double platinum album, Grammys.”
When he looks to me, all the improbable dreams I had about happiness, about love, stare back at me.
“A wife,” he says softly. “This year, many great things have happened, including my first book deal.”