Total pages in book: 81
Estimated words: 77827 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 389(@200wpm)___ 311(@250wpm)___ 259(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 77827 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 389(@200wpm)___ 311(@250wpm)___ 259(@300wpm)
“And more distance from us,” Courtlynn says, waggling her eyebrows.
Ellison giggles. “Okay. The extra space for when she gets here would be nice, and packing all this upstairs, only to bring it back down again soon, sounds like a lot.”
“Not to mention, you can’t see your feet,” I remind her. “Those stairs have to be a pain in the ass.”
“Hey!” Ellison shakes her head, but she’s smiling as she swats playfully at my arm.
“Then it’s settled,” Leighton says, standing. “Let’s start sorting through these gifts and combining bags for things you need right away and things that can wait until she’s older.”
So, that’s what we do. We spend the next half hour going through all the tiny little baby clothes and essentials Ellison and Copeland were gifted today.
It feels damn good to be home.
Four
Macklin
* * *
The Hideaway is slow tonight, but then again, it’s Sunday. Everyone is at home, getting ready for the work week. Bowen’s here because this place is his life—his baby, so to speak—and the rest of us? Well, we brought Copeland here after the baby shower for a drink to celebrate. Water counts as a drink, right?
I shake my head and grin as I tip my beer to my lips. I’m only having one because I have to drive home, but Copeland refused. He said he needs to stay sober in case Ellison or the baby needs him. He’s straight up H2O. He’s going to be a great dad.
I think about how I would feel in his shoes. If Baylor were having my baby, I know without a shadow of a doubt I’d be drinking water, too. Possibly a sweet tea, but nothing alcoholic. A grin tilts my lips just thinking about the idea of that happening.
Thinking about Baylor pregnant with my baby is something I shouldn’t be doing, but now that my mind has gone there, I won’t be able to stop.
“What’s that grin for?” Dixon asks, taking a sip of his own beer, his brow furrowed, trying to figure out what he missed.
“Just thinking about Cope and all that pink,” I say. It’s a lie, but it’s also a good cover, considering we just left his co-ed baby shower, where there was indeed a lot of pink, which has been the topic of conversation of late—ever since Copeland and Ellison found out they were having a little girl.
Copeland’s face breaks out into a huge-ass grin. “My girls” is all he says before his phone rings, and he rushes to answer it.
I eavesdrop a little on the conversation, and it sounds like Ellison’s sister might need help with something. If Courtlynn is there, there’s a good chance that Baylor is, too. So, when Copeland tells her that he’s on his way with the guys, I know damn well I’m all in, no matter what it is they have me doing. I mean, I’d be in regardless—I’m always willing to help out—but knowing Baylor is more than likely there, you couldn’t keep me away.
“What’s up?” Dixon asks as soon as Copeland ends the call.
“Apparently, my sisters-in-law have decided that my wife and I need to move downstairs to the primary bedroom. It was their parents’, and it’s probably double the size of the room we’re in now. The baby will be here soon, and they say we need the space.” He runs his fingers through his hair, which is pretty long these days. “It’s a bold move since none of them have been willing to take that room since they lost their parents.”
“What can we do to help?” I offer. I’m glad Dixon asked about the call before I had a chance to. I don’t want to sound too eager. Not that I want to hide my feelings for Baylor. No, it’s the opposite. I’d shout them from the rooftops if I could, but I think she deserves that information before anyone else does.
“Actually, we could use some help. Courtlynn says they’re doing it tonight.”
Bowen chuckles. “Of course, she did.” He shakes his head, and I swear he mutters brat under his breath.
“I’m in,” I tell him, pushing my half-empty beer away from me.
“Me, too,” Dixon agrees.
“Might as well.” Bowen sighs. “I’m just here to have a drink with my buddies. The staff can handle closing up tonight.”
“Thanks, guys.” Copeland pushes his chair back from the table and stands.
We follow him out to our trucks and, in a convoy of sorts, head to Magnolia Estates, where the girls live—well, Copeland, too, until their house is done.
Over the years, I’d like to think that I’ve perfected my calm where Baylor is concerned. However, tonight, that calm feels like it’s slowly unraveling. I’m anxious to see her, and it’s only been a handful of hours since the shower ended. I want to rush in—not the house—pull her into my arms, and kiss the hell out of her, but instead, I shove my hands into my pockets and lumber along leisurely behind the guys as Copeland leads us up the porch steps and into the house.