She trailed off into a fit of Spanish, making me want to laugh.
“I’ll let you go. But yeah, if you can add a bit more to the boobs, I’d be grateful.”
“I’ll see what I can do,” she admitted. “But no, I can’t get you in today. I’m sorry. I have four wedding parties coming in in the next two hours.”
After we said our goodbyes, I continued to drive to the police station.
I was nervous.
I’d already been to visit my mother, and I swore her to secrecy and made her promise that she wouldn’t call my dad until I had a chance to talk to him.
She told me that I had thirty minutes.
I’d intended to tell them both at dinner tomorrow night. That’d been why I’d been running by my mother’s place to see if she wanted to grab dinner with us. But she’d taken one look at me and known that I was pregnant based solely on the fact that I had a green tinge to my face.
It’d woken up with a vengeance the day before, and I wasn’t able to hide it from anyone. Especially not my mother who knew me better than anyone other than Saint.
Anyway, after she learned the news, she’d immediately wanted to call my father.
Which I’d forbidden her from doing because I had a onesie I wanted to give him.
I’d seen it on Etsy and had fallen in love with it.
Pulling into the parking lot, I took the spot next to my father’s truck and started to haul ass inside with my small gift bag in my hand.
I’d texted Saint, but I’d gotten the ‘I’m at a call’ text from him which either meant that he was on a SWAT call or pulling someone over.
I sent him a reply back telling him what I was doing, then walked with purpose to the back door of the police station.
When I was close, I sent my father a text.
Carolina: Marco
Daddy: At work
Carolina: Where at work?
Daddy: Why?
Carolina: Because I asked you.
Daddy: You’re here to visit me and not Saint?
Carolina: I’ll just leave this brownie I got you in the trash next to the back door…
It took him all of a half a minute to get to the back door.
He narrowed his eyes on me when he didn’t see any brownie.
“You liar,” he said, eyes taking me in. “What are you doing?”
I pushed past him into the hallway, surprised when I nearly walked straight into Luke and Downy.
“Oh, hello.”
Downy grinned. Luke winked.
“Did you bring us a brownie?” Downy asked.
“Umm,” I hesitated. “I didn’t even bring my dad one. I just wanted him to open the back door.”
Downy started to chuckle.
“I have some snack cakes in my car, though,” I admitted. “I just went to the grocery store.”
Luke held his hand out. “Keys.”
I dropped them into his open palm and he took off, leaving Downy and my dad behind.
“What’s in the bag?” Downy asked.
I scrunched up my nose. “Umm,” I hesitated. “Something for my dad.”
Dad peeked inside. “What?”
I took a deep breath and handed him the bag, butterflies taking flight in my belly.
He looked at me like whatever I’d put in it was going to jump out and bite him.
“It’s not bad!” I exploded, throwing my hands up.
“Then why do you look like you’re about to puke?” he asked.
I narrowed my eyes. “Open it.”
He sighed and pulled out the tissue paper, dropping it onto the ground.
I bent down and picked it up right as he was pulling the onesie out of the bag.
His head tilted to the side as he studied it.
“Bad boys, bad boys, what you gonna do when my papa comes for you?” Dad read.
Then his face blanched.
“You’re not, are you?” He squinted at me.
I nodded. “I was going to tell you tomorrow at dinner, and not at work, but your wife is a jerk and found out.”
“Your mother isn’t a jerk,” Dad corrected me. “Your brothers are, though. You might want to tell them before they think they’re the last to know.”
I looked behind me to see them both coming into the station, along with my soon-to-be husband.
That was about the time that the door behind me opened with Luke already digging into a Little Debbie.
He tossed the box at Downy, who took one out.
That’s when I saw that Luke had nabbed my chocolate milk, too.
“Hey! That’s mine!” I cried, reaching for it.
Luke lifted it up over my head, and I growled.
“I’ll so totally climb you like a tree, Uncle Luke!” I yelled, trying to latch on to his arm but slipping right back off when he tickled me.
“Down girl.” Luke put his hand on my forehead and pushed me away.
I could do nothing but go because he was bigger, taller, and stronger.
“Saint!” I cried. “He’s drinking all of my chocolate milk!”
“Careful there, Lucas,” Michael warned. “She’s pregnant and will literally kill you.”