Page 84 of Where the Wattles Bloom

‘Ohhh. A baby girl.’ Gina’s face split into a huge grin. ‘Molto bello.’ Then Gina hugged her.

Silvano’s face lit up at the news. As a man with three daughters, his delight was obvious. ‘Ah.’ His eyes locked with Lachlan’s, full of pride, as if he’d somehow had a hand in arranging the baby’s gender. ‘You are truly blessed, my friend. No? Truly blessed. Those girls, they know exactly how to wrap you around their little fingers.’

And he went in for another hug.

Lachlan bore another squeeze without complaint. In fact, he lapped it up. He hadn’t had this yet. This public recognition and excitement. Not with Rowena at his side.

‘Okay, okay.’ Gina sniffled a little, her eyes shiny as she tapped her husband on the shoulder. ‘I’m sure these two came in for something to eat, not to be hugged within an inch of their lives.’

‘Oh, yes, yes.’ Silvano switched to baker. ‘Of course. You’re eating for two now, right?’ Following Gina back behind the counter, he focused in on Rowena. ‘Now, let me guess. You want cannoli, no?’

Rowena laughed. ‘Yes, please. Two.’

Silvano liked nothing more than when his customers appreciated his food by buying it in multiples, and he beamed appreciatively at Rowena.

‘Two for you?’ he asked Lachlan.

‘Absolutely. I’ll take two of those bomboloni as well. They’re Reggie and Albert’s favourites and she refuses to make them when she knows she can come here and get the best.’

‘How is your nonna?’ Gina asked. ‘We ran into her at the hospital back when Silvano first came home, but we haven’t seen much of her lately.’

‘She’s still got a bit of a cough from when the show came to town, but apart from that she’s in fine form. Still up every morning at five. Still saddling up Ace for a ride most days. Still cooking up a storm.’

‘She must be looking forward to the little one.’

Lachlan grinned. That was the understatement of the year. She’d been very circumspect about the baby around Rowena. But he and Reggie had discussed the topic and the future at length when Rowena was at work. As much as they could, anyway, given Rowena’s reluctance to contemplate any kind of future.

Reggie was good, she understood Rowena’s reticence, but she was also old school. Forward planning was how she’d tackled everything in life and this was no different. For damn sure, she was already knitting up a storm in her bed at night.

‘You betcha.’ Lachlan kept his response low key. He was aware of Rowena, who was checking out the dried pastas the Morellis sold off to the side, and he didn’t want to admit to the level of excitement on Blairgowrie. He didn’t want to scare her back into her shell.

Not now. Not today.

Silvano handed over the packets of goodies and Lachlan tried to pay but, as ever, they refused. And he knew better than to push or insist. This was a matter of honour for Silvano. ‘Grazie,’ he said with a nod of his head.

Silvano nodded back. ‘Prego.’

*

‘You want to head to Blairgowrie or eat these over at the park?’ Lachlan glanced at the memorial park across the road as they exited the patisserie.

‘Ooh, the park sounds great.’

They crossed the road and Lachlan navigated them around the active arc sprinklers to one of the bench seats situated around the fountain in the centre of the park.

It was nothing much to look at during the day. A large stone basin full to the brim with water, and in the middle a circular formation of jets, each individual jet continuously arcing water inwards. But at night, it came alive, lit up with a constantly changing display of rainbow lights.

It wasn’t the Bellagio but it was exceptionally pretty.

At ten in the morning, the park was practically deserted as they sat in the sunshine, devouring their cannolis and listening to the peaceful twitter of birds over the sound of trickling water. Rowena sighed as she finished her first pastry, licking her lips of powdered sugar in a completely non-sexual way but which, nevertheless, did very strange things to Lachlan’s equilibrium.

She was wearing a skirt—not something he’d seen her in before. It was fringed, the loose fingers of fabric playing peekaboo with her calves. She’d teamed it with a v-necked t-shirt that featured two pockets over her breasts.

Breasts which had definitely increased in size since her arrival. Lachlan was a breast man through and through—he noticed that shit.

She was sporting some serious cleavage these days.

For a moment he lamented the fact he hadn’t got to see her body grow and change throughout every stage of this pregnancy like he would have had they been in a relationship. He was completely and utterly into her curves, and the thought of her body ripening even more as the baby grew, and missing out on a front-row seat, filled him with disappointment.