Josie lifted a pointed brow at me, keeping her lips sealed.
I shot her a smirk before facing Jesse and Rowen. Taking a breath, I looked at Rowen, since Jesse was too preoccupied with watching her as if
she were about to explode. “Tell us what’s going on with you guys. Why you’re both acting so . . . not like yourselves.”
Rowen sighed at my impressive prose.
“Yeah, come on,” Josie said, pushing her plate away. “How much longer are you going to keep us in suspense?”
Rowen and Jesse exchanged a look. Rowen shrugged—Jesse sighed.
“I didn’t realize ordering a Sprite, being moody, exhausted, and sprinting for the bathroom was keeping you in suspense,” she said, indicating the empty soda glass in front of her.
I blinked at everyone around the table. “What is everyone talking about, for Christ’s sake?”
Josie shook her head and groaned like I was hopeless.
Rowen threw the back of her hand into Jesse’s chest. “Jesse knocked me up.” Jesse winced. “So there you have it. The suspense is no longer.”
I sat frozen for a minute, replaying what she’d just said. Jesse had done what? That meant Rowen was what? That meant they’d be what soon? Of all the things I’d considered going on between them, Rowen having a bun in the oven hadn’t been one of them.
“What?” I said, although it came out as a whisper and was covered by Josie’s squeals as she smacked the table repeatedly in her excitement.
“I knew it!” she shrieked, alerting half the restaurant. “I knew it. I could tell the moment I saw you guys.”
“It was this putrid shade of green I radiate, right?” Rowen circled her finger around her face. “Or was it the dark circles under my eyes from not being able to sleep, despite spending the whole day exhausted? Or was it the paunch already starting to pop out of my not-so-skinny jeans?” She patted her tummy, making my gaze move there.
A baby was inside her stomach. Growing. A little Jesse or Rowen would be born into the world in what . . . six months? Twelve? How long did a baby take before being born? I knew it was somewhere in the six- to twelve-month range, but for the way this was all hitting me, little Sterling-Walker might as well have been born tomorrow.
Josie waved. “Whatever. You look amazing. I don’t know, it was just something in your eyes. Something in Jesse’s. That mix of ‘I’m terrified and thrilled at the same time.’ You might as well have been carrying a sign announcing you were preggers.”
Rowen sniffed then, her nose curling right before her gaze landed on the creamed spinach in front of me. Before I could do anything, Jesse stole it and carried it back to the kitchen. I grumbled, stealing some of his mashed potatoes.
“Well, we might not have fooled you, but I’d say we definitely gave Garth the shock of his life.” Rowen smiled at me in my still-stunned silence as she cut into her steak.
“For being such a worldly, street-smart guy, you’d think he wouldn’t be so oblivious about these kinds of things, right?” Josie was still bouncing in her seat. “God, I’m so excited for you guys. A baby? Seriously, I think I might pee my pants right now.”
“If you do, make sure not to change yourself in the last stall, because I’ve barfed in that one twice already and the vomit smell is definitely lingering.” As if she hadn’t been talking about throw up, Rowen stuffed a bite of steak into her mouth and swallowed with a small moan. She’d never been much of a meat eater—she was more like a vegetarian who ate chicken or fish on occasion—but right now, she acted like she wanted to make love to that slab of steak. I supposed that was the Jesse part of the baby in her—a rancher’s child craved good red meat even in the womb.
“Um, ew, but thanks for the tip.” Josie reached for my hand and gave it an impressive squeeze.
Seeing her so happy couldn’t help but rub off on me. It was contagious. Actually, most of her emotions were. Whatever she felt somehow translated into what I felt.
“So how far along are you? How’s it been so far? When are you due? Do you know what it is yet? Have you thought of names? Have you put together a registry yet? Can I do the baby shower? Can I babysit? Can I make myself available to you whenever and wherever you need a hand with the baby?”
Rowen had to cut her off. “Whoa there, Inquisitive. Take it easy. Along with my energy and stomach hardiness, this little gremlin is sucking away my brainpower. One question at a time, please. Two max.”
Josie’s hand kept squeezing mine. She was going to cut off my circulation soon if she didn’t let up. “When are you due?”
“November 30th,” she answered instantly, as if the date were on the tip of her tongue at all times.
“So that would make you . . .” Josie tipped her head from side to side. “Three months along?”
“Twelve weeks almost to the date.”
“So I guess asking how you’re feeling is kind of pointless since you just admitted to feeling like crap, right?” Josie frowned as she patted one of Rowen’s hands. “But that’s supposed to pass after the first trimester, right? You should start feeling better soon.”
Rowen looked away, focusing on cutting another chunk from her steak. “Yeah, I should. Hopefully.” She shifted in her seat.