“I most certainly do not.” Gracie sticks out her tongue at Cecilia. “Now look what you’ve done.”
Cecilia points at her belly. “I’m pregnant.”
“I hope you’re enjoying that excuse because the clock is ticking,” Gracie says.
The other woman tilts her patrician chin in the air. “Which is why I’m milking every single second of it.”
As though the baby knows we’re talking about them, Cecilia’s stomach rolls. Shane’s big palm covers the bump, and it responds by moving like an alien has taken up residence under her top. “Eight thirty on the dot. The little guy is like an alarm clock.”
“Are you having a boy?” I ask.
“It’s a surprise.” Cecilia gestures toward her husband. “This one just has opinions.”
Shane continues to rub her stomach. “I’m a Donovan. It took my dad four shots to get a girl. I’m playing the odds.”
Charlie’s hand falls to the back of my chair, and I smile at him, sliding a bit closer. He shifts, so we’re pressed together like puzzle pieces.
“Shit.” Shane peers back and forth between us, then smirks. “Look who turned out to be a cuddler.”
Charlie brushes his thumb over the curve of my neck. “Do you see what I do for you?”
I wave my hand through the air. “It’s not my fault you made a big deal about girls and now you’re paying the price. That’s business.”
He curls his fingers around my neck and squeezes. “You’re supposed to be on my side.”
“I am, but I also enjoy watching you suffer at my expense,” I say.
Gracie, sitting across from me, laughs. “You’re exactly the kind of woman I always hoped would come along and knock him right on his ass.”
“Thank you,” Charlie says in a dry tone.
And would you look at that. It didn’t take any time at all for the gorgeous baker to hand me the perfect opportunity to execute my plans.
In fairness, I did warn Charlie. I was gracious enough to give him a chance to come clean, but he missed it. I believe he’d been distracted by the way my nipples looked under the flimsy cotton nightgown I’d been wearing and he hadn’t been paying attention.
But that’s not really my problem, now, is it?
I press deeper into Charlie and beam at Gracie before winking in hopes of giving her a heads-up that what I’m about to do is all in good fun. “Thank you. That means a lot to me coming from someone I heard around town spent a fair amount of time in his bed.”
The cadence of my sentence lands perfectly, delivering the final blow just as Charlie is taking a drink. I affix the smile of an angel to my face as he chokes when the liquid goes down the wrong pipe, sending beer spewing and him into a coughing fit.
There’s a crackling of excitement as the collective turns their attention toward me, broken up by Charlie’s continued hacking and sputtering. I pound him on the back, which makes him cough harder.
Gracie grins. “Uh-oh.”
Her professor husband doesn’t disappoint. Instead, his expression is downright gleeful. “This will be fun.”
Charlie finally gets control of himself and gasps, “Now, Jessica… I can explain.”
“Charlie, no!” Lines bracket Gracie’s mouth. “You didn’t tell her?”
“I—” Charlie starts.
“I’m not mad, of course.” I interrupt him, appealing to the woman across from me so she knows this isn’t about her. Given the times I’ve met her, instinct tells me she’ll understand. “Why would I be mad to find out from some woman really leaning into the whole mob wife aesthetic that you used to sleep with a blond bombshell sex goddess?”
“Gina!” Charlie spits the name like a curse.
Gracie reaches across the table and gives my hand a pat. “Aw. That’s so sweet.”
