Page 174 of Twins for Three Bad Boys

“We don’t make it about the baby,” Fletcher says. “Not directly.”

“No,” I agree. “We make it about her.”

Rex leans forward. “We tell her we’re in. Whatever she decides.”

Fletcher nods. “And we mean it.”

I hold their gaze.

“She’s probably thinking this is the moment everything falls apart,” Rex says.

“She’s wrong,” Fletcher replies.

I nod once. “Then we show her.”

Rex drums his fingers once on the table. “Drive-in is in a few weeks.”

I look at him.

He shrugs. “They’re showing some romcom at the next showing.” Fletcher’s brow lifts slightly. “You know the schedule?”

Rex gives him a look. “I live here sometimes.”

I think about it.

The Redwood Run drive-in isn’t fancy. It’s a field just outside town with a projector rigged up against an old whitewashed barn. Folding chairs. Truck beds. Kids running wild until the sun drops. The kind of thing that smells of popcorn and grass and exhaust fumes.

It’s normal.

Safe.

Intentional.

“A few weeks,” I repeat.

“Gives us a while to adjust,” Rex says. “Let her breathe. Let us breathe. We plan it right.”

Fletcher nods slowly.

“She won’t expect it,” Rex adds. “Which helps.”

I sit back, considering the timing.

The drive-in means planning. Food she can tolerate. Blankets. Space in the truck bed. Maybe string lights along the rail.

Something intentional that shows we’re not running.

I exhale slowly.

“Okay,” I decide. “We take her to the drive-in.”

Rex’s mouth curves faintly. “Good.”

Fletcher stands, already in motion mentally. “I’ll tune up your truck speakers. Make sure they’re clean.”

I glance at him. “They’re fine.”

“They’ll be better,” he replies simply.