“A real baby. Our real baby,” he breathes. “She’s really in there, sugar.”
My lip quirks. “She?” I whisper.
He shrugs. “Or he. Either way, I’d be happy. I just… have a feeling. Every time I picture the baby, it’s a girl.”
My bottom lip trembles at that as more love than I’ve ever felt in my life fills me up for the man before me.
At his “No crying. Don’t ruin my awesome makeup job,” I huff out a laugh and nod, sniffling back the tears.
“Fuck, these pregnancy hormones are no joke,” I reply, and then I stand up on my tiptoes and drop a peck on his lips before spinning to grab my shoes.
Chapter 25
Curtis
HALF AN HOUR later, I meet Dean’s eyes in the rearview mirror, since he’s sitting in the backseat behind me. He gives me a subtle nod of encouragement, and I exhale quietly, not wanting to freak Erin out with my anxiety. God, I hope she likes the surprise.
I see her sit up straighter in the passenger seat as we get closer to the restaurant, seeing the crowd out front, the bright lights spotlighting the red-carpet backdrop where my handpicked, invitation only guests pose for the reporters with cameras. Rachel is on the sidewalk, and the minute she spots my truck in the line of cars letting out high-profile patrons for tonight’s event, she gives a signal, and all the reporters turn to face the street.
“What is going on there?” Erin breathes in awe. “Is that… it that your assistant?” She turns to look at me, her eyebrows high on her forehead.
“Yeah, sugar. We’re here,” I tell her.
Her eyes widen. “I… I just wanted breadsticks,” she squeaks, and I press my lips together to keep from laughing as she spins to look out the window once again.
When I pull up to the curb, I meet Dean’s eyes in the mirror once more, and he gives me a grin and a thumbs up before I look over my shoulder when I feel Emmy squeeze my shoulder in support. She smiles excitedly, and I nod, reaching for my door handle and opening it up. As I circle the hood, I let out a growl when one of the valets reaches for Erin’s door, and he hops back, giving me room to open it myself. Her eyes are full of wonder as she looks up at the restaurant, obviously trying her best to ignore all the cameras now flashing like crazy around us.
I reach in and pick her up by her hips, gently placing her on her feet on the sidewalk and plastering her to my side. Dean and Emmy are next to us seconds later, and I vaguely register my truck pulling away.
“This is a hell of a surprise. Is it always like this at restaurants in LA?” she asks, looking up at me, her face a little nervous with all the attention.
“No, not always. Just when there’s a big event, or… a grand opening,” I tell her.
Her eyebrows raise at that. “Oo! Is that what this is? Did a celebrity just open this place up?” she asks, excitement filling her voice.
I smile softly. “Something like that.” I look at Rachel, giving her a nod, and she hurries over to give me a small black remote, which I hand to Erin. “See that white curtain?” I ask her, pointing at the top of the building we stand in front of.
“Uhhh… yeah,” she replies, shifting from one foot to the other with nerves.
“Aim this at it and push the button,” I say, and I watch as she looks at her best friend, a questioning look in her eyes as if she’s trying to figure out if Emmy knows what’s going on. The huge grin on Emmy’s face and the way she’s practically vibrating, Dean’s arm the only thing apparently keeping her from jumping up and down, lets Erin know she’s in on the surprise.
“Do it!” she squeals, and hesitantly, Erin lifts the remote, aiming it at the white curtain.
We all hold our breath as she pushes the button, and the curtain falls away, revealing the name of the restaurant.
“Sugar’s,” Erin whispers, and all eyes in the crowd watch her, silence having fallen over the hundreds of people except for the sound of cameras flashing the moment I handed her the remote.
Finally her head whips around and she stares up at me. “Did you open a restaurant?” she hisses in shock.
I smile down at her. “I did.”
“And did you name your restaurant… after me?” she clarifies.
My grin takes over my whole face. “I did… sugar.” I wink at her, and her eyebrows practically hit her hairline.
“You opened a restaurant and named it after me, after only knowing me a month?” she prompts.
“Technically, I only knew you a week before I decided to name it after you, but the restaurant has been in the works for several months now,” I explain. And I barely have the words out of my mouth before she leaps at me, her arms encircling my neck the best she can with our height difference, so I bend at my knees and lift her up, allowing her to have access to my face, where she plants kisses all over my cheeks, nose, forehead, jaw, and then finally my lips, the crowd bursting into applause and cheers as the flashing around us crescendos.