Page 135 of Stay Wild Darlin’

Someone quietly cleared their throat behind us.

We both startled and turned.

It was Gatlin.

Hands in his pockets, shoulders a little hunched, long hair falling over his forehead like he hadn’t bothered to push it back.

His expression was sheepish, eyes flicking from me to Dalton, then back again. “Sorry, Poppy. That was an asshole thing to say. I didn’t mean it with any harm. I wasn’t thinking.”

I blinked at him, a little caught off guard by the sincerity in his voice.

“It’s okay,” I said earnestly as I stepped away from Dalton. “Really. It’s okay.”

Gatlin hesitated, then opened his hands in a silent offer, and I stepped in for a quick hug.

“You’re good for him,” he said against my hair.

I swallowed down the unexpected lump in my throat. “Thanks,” I said softly, pulling back.

He gave me a small nod, then looked past me toward Dalton. “Y’all should come back out. Fable’s got some kind of announcement. Said if everyone’s not sitting, she’s not saying a word.”

Dalton arched a brow and slipped his hand back into mine as we stepped into the hallway.

The dining room was glowing when we returned, warm candlelight flickering across the table, catching in the glasses and silverware. Everyone had settled back into their seats, the low murmur of conversation humming through the room again.

Dalton pulled out my chair and gave my hand a quick squeeze before sitting beside me. Gatlin dropped into the seat next to Harleigh.

Fable stood.

She smoothed her hands down the front of her dress and tugged gently on Beau’s arm, pulling him up beside her with a grin.

Mr. Banks raised a brow. “What’s going on?”

“She’s making a speech,” Harleigh muttered, and Gatlin chuckled softly.

Fable shot them both a look and then glanced around the table.

“Okay,” she said, cheeks flushed. “I’m not usually the speech type, and I wasn’t even planning to say anything. But . . .I married this guy”—she bumped her shoulder against Beau—“and everything in my life changed.”

There was a soft chorus of awws and a few mock groans from the boys.

She rolled her eyes, laughing. “I know, I know, but I mean it. It’s not about the wedding, or the house, or the last name. It’s about this”—she gestured to the table—“having all of you here, still showing up.”

Beau looked down at her, slipping his hand around her waist.

“And,” Fable added, a nervous energy creeping into her smile, “since we’re talking about love and changes and all the good things that come from unexpected timing . . .” She paused and looked up at Beau. “We’re having a baby.”

The table froze for a beat.

Then chaos.

Harleigh let out an excited squeal, and Gatlin blurted, “No shit?”

Beau wrapped both arms around her and pulled her close, whispering something that made her laugh through her tears.

Dalton turned to me, his eyes wide. “Well, damn.”

Fable waved her hands gently, motioning everyone to settle down.