Total pages in book: 49
Estimated words: 47103 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 236(@200wpm)___ 188(@250wpm)___ 157(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 47103 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 236(@200wpm)___ 188(@250wpm)___ 157(@300wpm)
“Did we land a lucrative deal I don’t know about?” my partner, Trey, had asked yesterday after a tense conference call with one of our West Coast clients. “An hour after our meeting with that pompous Hollywood asshole, and you’re the only one smiling.”
I’d shrugged off his astute observation, though it had taken major self-control not to cave and blurt our news. Trey and his husband had three kids, all through a surrogate and damn it, I had so many questions. But Aaron and I had made a strict pact not to tell a soul until Lena hit the twelve-week mark, so it was best to let Trey think I’d had particularly amazing morning sex.
But today was the day. Lena was feeling great—no nausea, no dizziness. The doctor had cleared her for light exercise and encouraged her to get back to her normal routine. And there was no reason for us not to share our secret with the world. I couldn’t wait.
Personally, I wasn’t as concerned about our nosy moms. Yes, my mother had a tendency to pick at flaws or perceived slights. And his mom—while a million times more chill than mine—liked to be in control. She was a nurturer and a comforter…in the extreme. If one of us wasn’t feeling well, it was just a matter of minutes before she delivered homemade soup. The Mendezes lived in the area, so maybe that wasn’t a big deal.
However, that alone bugged my mother. She low key viewed Aaron’s family’s proximity as a threat. She wouldn’t admit it in a million years, but it was sort of obvious and I had no doubt she’d want to insert herself once she knew we were expecting a baby. She might even make noises about moving to Maryland. Oh…fuck.
I nibbled Aaron’s knuckles playfully, chuckling as he squirmed out of reach. “Everyone will be fine. Including my mom. We should probably warn Lena, though.”
“Definitely.” Aaron adjusted a mustard bottle by an inch and gave the yard a critical once-over.
It looked pretty freaking amazing if you asked me.
We’d added a firepit in the far corner with Adirondack chairs and fairy lights overhead. We’d set up a badminton net on the other end, and if anyone was in the mood for bocce ball or croquet, we had that too. Our built-in barbecue featured a mini bar area with stools so our guests could chat with the short-order cook—that was me, by the way—and eat their meals while watching whatever shenanigans were taking place on the lawn.
Aaron had decorated two long tables with huge vases filled with sunflowers on the deck near the sliding door off the kitchen for buffet-style service. There were two picnic tables on the grass too. Plenty of seating and lots of entertainment options.
Renovating our house and yard till everything was just as we’d envisioned hadn’t always gone smoothly, but it had been worth the time and expense. Now Murphy had a safe space to run and someday soon, our kid would be out here too—chasing the dog’s tail or blowing bubbles or—okay, my face hurt from the extra goofy smile I couldn’t contain to save my life.
Aaron, on the other hand, seemed anxious.
“Are you okay?” I tipped his chin and brushed my thumb over his bottom lip.
“I have butterflies in my stomach. It’s a big step to let everyone in on this.” His gaze wandered to Murphy, who was busily chomping on the toy bone we’d given him to keep him distracted.
“I know.”
“And it’s the tip of the iceberg. They’ll want to know if we’re finding out what we’re having, what names we like, who’s hosting the baby shower, what the nursery fêng shui will be. We don’t know these things yet.”
“So that’s what we’ll say.” I rested my forehead on Aaron’s and kissed his nose. “Everyone who’ll be here is rooting for us. They just think they’re meeting Murphy.”
He grinned, wrapping an arm around my waist as he turned to watch the dog, cooing, “Our sweetest little baby cutie monkey pie.”
“For the record, Murphy is not a cutie monkey pie. Also…if anyone questions our nursery fungs sway, you send them my way.”
Aaron barked a laugh. “I’ll do that.”
The barbecue was in full swing. An old Santana song drifted from the speakers, barely audible under the cacophony of multiple conversations and the good-natured ribbing from the competitive badminton game underway.
I flipped burgers and grilled chicken while sipping a beer, absently nodding along to an intense debate about waterslides between Jay, Curt, and my neighbor, Todd. I had zero opinions on the topic, and I was more interested in watching the kids throw balls for Murphy, giggling at his puppy antics. I spotted my parents chatting with my partner at the firm, Trey, and his husband. Aaron and his mom were milling near the table with a few cousins. Jack, Peter, and Jason were playing badminton with Aaron’s brother and Todd’s wife, Jess, and their kids, Billy and Katie.