Hand taking hold of mine again, Connor introduces me to the strangers in front of me. “Rosanna, this is my older brother Amos and his son Isaiah.”
“And me,” Leila protests, her perfect rosebud of a mouth forming into a frown.
“Sorry, princess. And his daughter Leila. And this”—he directs a soulful gaze my way—“is Rosanna. My woman.”
I want to hide in his jacket like Leila did, but instead, I act like the adult I am and proffer a somewhat shy greeting. “Hello.” Oh, God...should I shake their hands or will words do? I cringe at my own ineptitude, but can’t dwell on it because Isaiah’s mouth drops open, gaping like a fish out of water.
“Uncle Connor...you—you—she...” His eyes dart rapidly back and forth between us, shell-shocked. “Dad, did he—”
“Close your mouth before you choke on your tongue, son,” Amos interrupts with a fatherly squeeze to the back of Isaiah’s neck. “Good job, baby brother, and very nice to meet you, Rosanna.”
“Thank you,” I politely return. What is the deal with Isaiah turning ten shades of red every time he looks at us? And it’s even noticeable in the darkness, so that’s some serious blushing going on there.
Connor snickers and pulls me closer. “Come on. That’s three down and three to go.”
“What in the world was that all about?” I quietly ask as we make our way to the fire.
He shrugs. “You’ll have to excuse Isaiah. Amos told me he just had The Talk with him a few weeks ago, and now he’s obsessed and a little unsure of how to act around women. He’ll grow out of it.”
The Talk? Isn’t he a little too old to only just now be told about sex? Hmm. Then again, if he’s adopted, maybe he didn’t get the chance to learn. He’s a cute boy, though, with a strong jaw and dark hair cut in a low fade. I can definitely picture him causing some hearts to throb.
“Connor!” A woman calls out his name this time. “Oh, good Lord... Mitchell, he’s brought a woman with him. You didn’t get married yet, did you?”
Not waiting for an answer, she hurries over to us, arms open wide. But instead of wrapping around her son, they envelop me. Taken aback, I hug the woman lightly even as I stare bug-eyed at Connor, wondering why in the world she’d think we were already married.
Pulling back, she beams at me. “Oh, you’re such a beautiful thing. I’m Corina, Connor’s mom. What’s your name, dear?”
This lady is cracking me up with the way she’s fawning over me and not even knowing my name yet. “Rosanna Taylor.”
Her eyes cut sharply to Connor. “So, you’re not married yet.”
Yet.Seems he was telling the truth—as he told me he was—when he said they’d know as soon as they saw us. And it’s not as if the ring is tipping them off, because that particular hand has been in my pocket so it stays warm. But my presence truly leads them to believe we’re a sure thing. It’s oddly heartwarming, if not a little strange.
“Not yet, Momma. But we have an announcement to make, don’t we, kitten?” He tugs me closer and kisses the top of my head, his words releasing all the butterflies I tried so hard to keep under wraps.
“Oh, my.” His mom’s eyes twinkle with excitement. “Mitchell, Mercy...y’all get over here. Connor’s got something to say.”
Oh. My. God. I’m going tokillhim. Can I bury my head in his armpit? He took a shower before we left, so I’ll just be breathing in deodorant particles. Maybe I won’t die from asphyxiation.
People gather around us, ready to hear the apparent news. A tall man, probably her husband, stands by Corina. Then a beautiful woman curls underneath Amos’s arm as he holds Leila. That’s Mercy. And Isaiah? The poor boy isstillblushing in the firelight and can’t look at us for more than two seconds without his head falling in embarrassment.
Taking my hand—the one with the ring—Connor kisses it, then places it on his chest so the tiny diamonds sparkle in the firelight.
The men grin widely.
The women gasp.
Leila pouts.
Isaiah blushes.
“This is Rosanna, my woman, and we’re buying a marriage license tomorrow. Wait—there’s more.” Holding a hand up amid the cheers and congratulations, he gazes deeply into my eyes as he delivers the rest of the news. “Mom, Dad...you’re going to be grandparents. We’re having twins.”
My eyes close in an odd mixture of embarrassed pride. Even though I love my babies already and would gladly tell the world about them, I don’t like being put in the spotlight like this. When I manage to open them again, they land on smiling faces. Huge smiles that absolutely shine with happiness.
All except for one person’s—Mercy’s. She’s smiling, but it’s softer. Maybe even...strained? I catch her hand from the corner of my eye as it comes up to briefly touch her lower abdomen. My lips purse as a thrum of excitement runs through me. Maybe she’s pregnant, too! It would be so nice to be able to share the journey with another woman.
After all the congratulations and hugs are dispersed, I sit with Connor as we roast marshmallows for s’mores. The next few hours are so amazing as we all relax and get to know each other.
