Then Lena was on her feet, dragging me into another hug. “You guys! This is incredible news. I’m so excited!” she squealed. “Congratulations!”
Milo barked, tail wagging at everyone’s excitement.
Weston pulled Locke into a hug. “It’s a big year for all of us, apparently.”
“We’re, uh, not making it widely known until we’re past the first trimester,” Locke said, still a little sheepish. “Just you two and Cat know so far.”
“Of course,” Lena said. “It’s our secret.” She squeezed my hands. “I can’t wait to spoil this little bundle rotten.”
“Aisling’s going to be over the moon when we tell her,” Weston said, eyebrows still hiked in surprise. “Another little cousin.”
Lena laughed. “I don’t know if she’ll be more excited about this or the adoption.” They paused, locked eyes, and laughed in tandem. “Definitely the baby.”
12
LOCKE
“You look happy,” I said, glancing over at Isla as I drove her back to the inn.
“I am,” she agreed, catching her lip between her teeth in that way I loved. The last of the sunset framed her in soft yellows and pinks, turning strands of her hair gold. She looked gorgeous, and I wanted to tell her. Instead, I turned back to the road. “I had a great day with you and Aisling. And honestly, it was nice to tell Weston and Lena about the baby. They werereallyhappy for us.”
“I promise you, I had no intention of dropping the baby-bomb this evening,” I said, taking it slowly through the winding Highland roads, cautious of the precious cargo I had on board. “Sorry if that caught you off guard. But I never doubted they’d be supportive. Alistair will be too, once he finds out.”
Isla reached out to squeeze my arm. “It’s nice to know the baby has this built-in community. Don’t get me wrong, I loved the way I grew up, with me and Mom adventuring. But being back inBraeburn has reminded me how important community really is. I want that for our child.”
I nodded in agreement. I had my condo in Edinburgh, but the more I thought about the baby, the more I envisioned Braeburn and Isla, not just as my co-parent, but as somethingelse. Pressure swirled behind my ribs. The lines between real and fake were blurring. I could feel it every time I looked at her. I’d always known that kind of life, that kind of relationship, wasn’t for me. Love, in almost every case, led to loss and ruin. It wasn’t stable. It couldn’t be counted on the way business could. Iknewthat. So why the hell couldn’t I get that image out of my head?
“Maybe babysitting Aisling is good practice for us,” Isla was saying when I came crashing back to Earth. “You know, before the baby comes.”
“I don’t think you actually need the practice,” I assured her. “You’re amazing with kids. Patient. Fun. Serious when you need to be. If anyone needs practice, it’s me.”
“What are you talking about?” Isla said. “You’re great with Aisling. She adores you.”
I laughed, even as doubt filled me. “Because I get to be the fun uncle.” I lifted my shoulder. “Being a dad is going to be completely different. I don’t get to sweep in once a month and buy ice cream. I’ll be a parent every day.” What if I was terrible at it?
“Locke,” Isla said, her words laced with sincerity. “You’re gonna be wonderful. You know how I know that? Because you’re already showing up. That’s all a kid needs. Someone who shows up for them. Someone who makes them feel special. And I can see how special Aisling feels around you.”
Her words warmed me somewhere too deep to reach.
“What we really need to work on is your diaper-changing skills,” Isla joked.
“I think they have classes for that,” I pointed out.
“And we should probably both go.”
“Sure,” I said. “Though, just for the record, it’s obvious you’re going to crush this mum thing. Nappy changing and all.”
She chuckled softly. “I think my goal is to be like my own mom. That’s the bar I’m going to set for myself.”
“What was she like?” I asked. “I mean, I know she was an artist, but aside from that?”
Isla went quiet for a beat, and I wondered if anyone had asked her that since losing her mother. “She was soft-spoken but lit up every room she was in,” she finally said. “Her attention to detail was extraordinary. She could remember the littlest things about a scene. She enjoyed nature, obviously, and exploring. She’s the reason for my love of hiking. She was always kind to strangers and quick to hug.” Her voice grew tight. “She also had a gift for making everything beautiful and fun. Even the hard things.”
“What do you mean?” I asked.
“Well, you know how we moved to the States when I was seven?” I nodded, and she continued, “Starting over was really difficult for me. I had to get used to a new place and new school, had to make new friends. There was endless teasing because of my accent.”
“The Scottish accent is the best accent,” I huffed. “Those kids clearly had no idea what they were talking about.”
