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“You have to try these,” I tell Royce. I’m standing at the front reception desk where I’ve just set a box of red velvet cupcakes on the corner. Layla didn’t waste any time indulging, and neither did I.
Royce looks at the name on the box before diving in for his own cupcake. “This is the third time this week that you’ve brought in treats,” he says before taking a huge bite of his own cupcake.
“So?” I shrug. It’s no secret in my family that I have a sweet tooth.
“It’s Wednesday,” Royce points out.
“Well,” I say, winking at Layla, making her laugh, “my nephew needs them to make it through the day.”
“Your nephew does not need them, and neither does his mother,” Layla chimes in.
“But yet you’re eating one.”
“I’m pregnant and eating for two. You can’t just put all this sugary goodness in front of me and expect me to be able to resist. I have no willpower, Grant Riggins, and you damn well know it,” she says, giving me what I imagine will be her attempt at the mom look.
“Are you giving my wife a hard time?” Owen asks, joining us. He kisses Layla’s cheek before grabbing his own cupcake.
“Fiancée.” Royce is quick to correct him. Owen might be giving our parents the first grandchild, but Royce is going to hang on to the fact he gave them the first daughter-in-law, twice, but we won’t talk about the first one. She’s better left in the past.
“We really need to fix that,” Owen tells Layla.
She shrugs. “So, let’s fix it.”
Royce, Owen, and I all stop chewing and stare at her. Owen has been asking her for months when they can set a date. Hell, he was asking the minute he proposed.
“What are you saying, Layla?”
“I’m saying this little guy will be here in a few months, and it might be nice for his mom and dad to have the same last name.”
“Tell me when and where and I’ll take care of it.”
“As long as Ronnie and Linda are there, I don’t really care.”
“We’ll go to them.”
“Um, I want your family there as well.”
Owen looks at us, and I nod, but it’s Royce who speaks up. “You tell us when and we’ll make it happen, brother.”
“How about we get married on the beach?” Owen asks her.
“I do love the beach.” She smiles up at him. There is so much love and devotion shining through in that one look. It hits me deep in my gut. I want a woman to look at me like that. No, not just any woman. I want Aurora to look at me like that.
“Call Mom,” I tell Owen. “She’ll be all over this.”
“Lay?” he asks.
“I would love nothing more than for her to take care of it all. I just want to worry about this little guy.” She rubs her belly. “The rest is just semantics. I know your mother will make it a day we will both remember. I’ll help with anything she needs, but honestly, I don’t even know where to start.”
Owen drops to his knees and wraps his arms around her waist. Royce and I share a glance before stepping away and going to our own offices, giving them a moment alone. Pulling my phone out of my pocket, I set it on my desk while I fire up my laptop. The urge to send Aurora a message is strong, and I’m not sure that I should in this moment, for fear of what I’ll say, but I do it anyway. Grabbing my phone, I type out a message. She wants real. I’m going to give her real.
Me: How is it possible that I miss you already?
I hit Send before I can think better of it. It’s cheesy as fuck, and if my brothers were to read this message, they would crucify me. However, it’s also a valid question. I want to know how I can miss her already. I barely know this woman, but she’s under my skin. She has me thinking about things I’ve never thought of before. Dreaming of a future that I once thought was so far beyond me in years, that it would be a while before they ever came to mind. Not now. Not after meeting Aurora.
Aurora: Is this a trick question?
I can’t hide my chuckle.
Me: Not a trick. I just… can’t wait for our date tonight.
Aurora: Some date I am. I have to be home by eight to go to bed.
Me: I’ll take any amount of time you’re willing to give me.
Aurora: There they go again.
Me: What? Who are they?
Aurora: The butterflies. You’re always making them flutter around.
Me: I give you butterflies?
I’m smiling like a fool. I can’t help it. It’s been difficult to get anything out of her. This is progress.
Aurora: Every day.
Every. Day.
Me: I’ll be there at three-thirty.
