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“Damn that smells good,” Caleb says hopefully.
“I bought enough to feed eight, so have at it,” Ava tells him.
We enter the kitchen, Caleb grabbing a plate and starts filling it. I approach Ava and sweep her into my arms, kissing her.
“You’re too good to us,” I murmur.
“I have selfish motives.” She grins as she pulls out of my arms, going to one of the containers and opening it, pulling out a piece of…
Pineapple.
She pops it into her mouth, humming in approval. “Sweet and sour chicken with pineapple. Sooo delicious.”
“You have issues,” I tease her.
“More like cravings,” Caleb mutters as he helps himself to the sweet and sour chicken, kicking any pineapple he scoops out back into the container.
Ava goes still, her gaze wide when it meets mine. “You told him.”
I wince. “I couldn’t help it, babe. I’m excited.”
Her smile softens and she exhales, like I’m a hopeless case. “I get it. I already told Ellie.”
“See? It’s hard to keep it in.” I wanted to announce to the entire damn football team that I’m going to be a dad, but held back at the last second.
I need to tell my family first. And she needs to tell hers.
“Congrats, Mom and Dad,” Caleb says with a grin as he dumps about half of the rice onto his plate. “I’m excited for you crazy kids.”
“Don’t act like you think we’re crazy. You’ll be a dad next, I bet,” I tell him.
Caleb shakes his head as he heads for the table. “Hell no. I’m not ready for that.”
I grab an empty plate but Ava takes it from me. “Go sit. I’ll make you plate.”
“Really?” I drop a kiss on her cheek. “Thanks, Princess.”
I go to the table and sit across from Caleb, who’s shoveling food into his mouth as fast as he can. “She’s spoiling you now because you’re going to have to return the favor later, you know.”
“True,” Ava says cheerily as she’s dumping all sorts of food onto my plate. Not a pineapple in sight though. “When I’m fat and waddling around, totally uncomfortable and my belly full of his baby, he’s going to have to make me dinner and rub my feet every night.”
The image she describes fills me with satisfaction—mixed with an unfamiliar, primal feeling. I cannot wait to see her waddling around, her stomach round with our baby and knowing I’m the one who put her into that condition.
We eat and talk, Caleb telling funny stories and making Ava laugh. She doesn’t eat a lot—mostly sweet and sour chicken with a boatload of pineapple—while Caleb goes back for thirds and I eat two platefuls.
It’s nice. Everything feels normal, yet different. I think about showing Ava the onesie I bought earlier today, but decide I won’t. Not yet. I’ll give it to her when I ask her to marry me.
Yeah, she’ll like that. A lot.
“What are you smiling about?” she asks softly.
I glance up, realizing that Caleb has left the table. I can hear him chatting on the phone as he heads down the hall to his room. Sounds like he’s talking to Gracie.
“Nothing.” I shake my head, reaching out and settling my hand over Ava’s. “Thank you for dinner.”
“You’re welcome.” She squeezes my hand. “It was good, huh.”
“Yeah.” What’s even better is having her here with me.
