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“Next Saturday,” she corrects, rolling her eyes like he’s the idiot.

“Come on.” I take Jerry’s bag from him. “I’ll show you the guest room.”

It isn’t until I’m halfway down the hall that it dawns on me that I’ve simply assumed Jerry will stay here.

At Dean’s house.

The house I don’t technically live in.

Officially, anyway.

I push open the guest-room door and stop. There’s already a fresh towel folded neatly on the bed. The room has been cleaned, the pillows fluffed and everything prepared for him.

I turn toward Dean and lower my voice. “I hope this is okay. I just assumed he’d stay with us.”

“Of course it’s okay, baby.” Dean leans down and kisses my temple. “He’s family.”

God.

I kiss him because apparently, I’m incapable of not touching this man lately. It lasts long enough for Jerry to clear his throat behind us.

“You two know I’m still here, right?”

“Unfortunately,” I say, making Dean laugh.

I’m already wondering how soon we can sneak away for a little alone time.

Pregnancy hormones are making me extremely horny.

Get it together, Blair.

Forty Nine

Dean

It’s Sunday morning. The shop’s shut, school’s finished for winter break, and for the first time in what feels like fucking forever, nobody in this house has anywhere they need to be for at least a few hours.

Aspen is standing on a kitchen chair, arguing with Blair over whether Jingle Bell Rock is better than Last Christmas. Jerry is nursing a coffee at the island like he’s been here for years, and I’m attempting pancakes while pretending I’m not listening to any of them.

I am.

Every word.

Because this is my favorite kind of noise.

“Daddy,” Aspen says, pointing a spatula at me. “Tell Blair she’s wrong.”

Blair gasps. “Choose carefully, Ashford.”

I look between them and shake my head. “Nope. I’m staying out of it.”

“Coward,” Blair mutters.

Jerry laughs into his coffee while I grin and flip another pancake.

I could get used to this.

“Daddy!” Aspen suddenly yells, making every person in the kitchen jump.