Crazy in Love

Again, she embraces me, not waiting, not seeking my permission, just full-on hugs me. It’s not something I’m used to in general with girlfriends. But like I’ve always known, Tatum is special.

“What happens now?” she asks.

“Not sure. There’s a lot to think about and plan. But now that we know—”

“And half of Manhattan because of the surprise party last night.”

I give her that, tipping my head. “I think we take a few days to just enjoy this. You want this baby. I want this baby. There’s a lot to celebrate with this new life.”

The nurse comes in and says, “Okay, you’re all ready to go, Ms. Devreux. We’ve set your next appointment.” She hands her an appointment card. “And we look forward to seeing you then. Congratulations to you both.”

“Thanks,” I say, letting the news sink in.

We hold hands as we leave. I’m not Mr. Devreux, and she’s not Mrs. Decker, but we’re together, happy, and bringing a new life into the world. It might not be a perfect bow to some, but life feels pretty damn grand to me right now.

Just as we push through the exit doors, I ask, “Hungry?”

“Starving. I’m craving French toast. Want to go get breakfast? I know a great diner up ahead.”

I’m pretty sure cravings don’t start this early. I also never expected to hear Tatum request diner food since she’s more the Michelin-starred restaurant type. I’m happy to oblige her every whim if it means spending time with her and enjoying this next stage together.

As we walked down the street, I ask, “When can we tell our families?”

She stops and pulls her phone from her bag. Reading a text message on the screen, she then holds it so I can see it. Her parents will be in Manhattan for one night.

This Friday.

The night after her birthday.

“I guess on my birthday. No time like the present to tell your parents you’re pregnant,” she replies.

Remembering how her mom acted at the anniversary party, I say, “Well, this should be interesting.”

25

Harrison

“I was worried about being a godparent, and now look at me?”

“Am I looking at the pint of ice cream in your hand or the fried chicken on your lap?” Ow—the whack to the bicep came fast. She may be pregnant, but she can still deliver a wallop.

She’s been pregnant for just over a hot minute and is adapting quick to her new life. I think she figured out the perks—me willing and ready to satiate her cravings—real fast.

Lying on the couch, Tatum laughs, gut-giggling, from it. The woman is delirious . . . with power. She doesn’t have to worry, though. I’m more than willing to feed her cravings, hunger or sexually, anytime she wants.

When she catches her breath, she says, “I meant because the thought of being a godparent scared me, and now I’m going to be a mom.” She’s quick to move the food to the coffee table before turning to me on the other side of the couch. “Oh wow. I’m going to be a mom, Decker.” Only a second passes before she adds, “You’re going to be a dad.”

Dad . . .

I think of my dad.

And Corbin Christiansen—Nick’s dad.

Those are the dads I know. Different in a lot of ways and similar in others. I don’t really feel old enough to be called Dad. Imagining a kid calling me that brings a smile to my face, though. I’ve loved being an uncle—the favorite uncle—to Harlow. But what I have realized is that I’ve secretly wanted to be a dad for years but packed away that dream since I didn’t have the woman I wanted to be tied to for the rest of my life.

I relocated the dream of having a family of my own into my heart. Not sure why.

Tatum and I can both admit that pure physical attraction brought us together. The sex is outstanding. Still is.

Truthfully, though, Tatum never indicated one way or the other that we’d one day be friends. Lovers came unexpectedly. It was as though my heart’s been waiting for her to catch up. She may be covered in crumbs with a hint of chocolate stuck to the side of her mouth. Yep, that’s my woman right there, but that’s also the mother of my baby, and I couldn’t be happier.

Taking her hand, I rub my thumb over her soft skin. “It’s funny because I think we skipped a few steps, but I’m not beholden to some old-fashioned notion. We may have just had our first date, but I think we’re past that now. Tatum, will you be my girlfriend?”

“Why’d you have to go and do that, Harrison?” Her foot nudges my leg.

I take her by the ankles and stretch them across my lap, then rub her feet. “What did I go and do exactly?”

“You’re being sweet and romantic. It makes me question if you’re just doing that because I’m pregnant.”