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Her head jerked up, and she grinned. “True.”

“What if something happens?” Jesse groaned, and when I looked at him, I saw his face had turned gray. “What if something happens to her?”

Layla sighed. “Jesse, you can’t think like that. What happened with me and the twins was a freaky one-in-a-million thing that doesn’t normally happen. She’s going to be fine, I promise you.”

“But what if she isn’t?” He turned accusing eyes on me. “What if she isn’t?”

“She will be,” I vowed. “I’ll take care of her, sir. I swear it.”

He glared at me for a long, tense moment, but he finally seemed to relax as he nodded. “You fucking better.”

“Daddy.” Lucy’s soft voice seemed to hit him directly in the heart from the way he jerked in reaction. She smiled sweetly up at him. “Let’s not think about what could go wrong. Let’s focus instead on the fact that, by this time next year, you’re going to have a grandchild to love and spoil.”

He let out a pain-filled exhale. “I’m not going to get any sleep until she’s here, you know that, right?”

“She?” Dad groaned. “Can we not bring more girls into the world for me to want to kill for? Let’s say it’s a boy. Boys are tougher, and we only have to worry about that one penis dicking around. If we get a granddaughter, we’re going to have to find more places to hide dead bodies.”

“True,” Jesse agreed with a dark frown. “It was fucking hell worrying about Lu before she got with Harris.” He scratched at the scruff that was starting to grow on his jaw. “I like the idea of a grandson. We should get

him a drum set.”

“Let’s pray for a grandson, Layla,” Nat told her, but I wasn’t sure if she was joking or not. “If it’s a girl, neither one of us will know any peace where these two are concerned.”

Layla shook her head. “I can live without that peace. I like the idea of dressing up a granddaughter. Think of all those little dresses we could get her.”

Nat seemed to think that over, and as the two women moved off together, already discussing all the ballet classes they could put their possible granddaughter in, I pulled Lucy back out onto the dance floor, leaving the grandfathers-to-be to discuss which drums would be best for a beginning little rocker.

“Sorry I slipped up, sweetness. I didn’t even realize what I was giving away.”

She shook her head, smiling coyly. “It’s fine. Next time, we’ll do something cute to announce to the grandparents we’re expecting.”

“Next time?” I liked the idea of a next time. And maybe one more after that.

“Yeah. We’ve got to have plenty of babies to fill up all of those bedrooms their grandparents gave us. Right?”

“I don’t know.” Grasping her by the waist, I lifted her up until we were staring directly into each other’s eyes. “You think you’re up for the adventure?”

“With you? I’m ready for anything the world throws at us, babe.”

Epilogue

Lucy

I bounced through the house, making sure everything was in place as our home slowly emptied of guests. I didn’t know where this burst of energy had come from, but I welcomed it after feeling like I had run a marathon after just getting out of bed the last few weeks.

“There she is!” Big hands appeared from either side of me, and I paused, letting both Devlin and Dad touch my huge stomach, knowing they wouldn’t be happy until they felt their grandchild kicking them and not for the first time that day.

“How you feeling, Lu?” Dad asked, his eyes watching me like a hawk as they constantly had over the last several months.

I smiled reassuringly up at him. “I’m great, Daddy. Stop worrying, okay?”

He opened his mouth, but before he could bombard me with more questions about how I was feeling, two little feet gave a powerful kick. It effortlessly shut him up about my health and had him and Devlin both gushing about how strong of a kicker their grandchild was.

“He’s going to be a soccer player,” Devlin predicted. “Harris was into that when he was a boy.”

“Maybe he’s going to be into martial arts. Hey, let’s check out that beginner MMA class down at the gym. See how old the kid has to be before he can start.” I was already forgotten as Dad walked off with the other drummer, their heads together as they discussed getting a personal coach if the gym wouldn’t let their grandson in at birth.

Rolling my eyes, I picked up a discarded paper plate and a few plastic cups and weaved my way through the small crowd to the kitchen.

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