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Some unnamed emotion swam through me, making me just a little lightheaded. But I just tightened my hold on her. “Duly noted.”
Her eyes widened. “I mean, that’s not—I didn’t mean I expect to get married.”
“Of course not. You expect to have to put an APB out on me and drag me into court for child support like every other worthless bum.”
“No. I wouldn’t have to put an APB out on you. I know where you live and work.”
I nudged her off my lap and stood. “I should reply to Brady.”
“Mav, wait.”
In the doorway, I turned and braced my arm against the jamb. “I’m used to everyone expecting me not to step up. With an older brother like Brady, it’s not surprising. I’ve enjoyed proving people wrong for years. I’ll prove you wrong too.”
Filled with righteous indignation, I turned to go back in the bedroom.
And almost imagined I heard Van murmur, “You already have.”
Right now, I had to show my brother I could be there for him too. Responsibilities were coming at me like a freight train. I could either jump on the train or get run over.
I voted jump. I just hoped Van would jump with me.
NINETEEN
Were ice cream hangovers a thing?
I’d never been a huge drinker even in my rowdiest years, but it felt like a bus had hit me sometime between last night and dawn.
Add in the cement-like feet I’d stuffed into cute heels this morning, and I was dragging. I already missed the Crocs I’d taken to wearing at the bakery. They were like little clouds—at least for the first eight hours of my endless days.
I wasn’t sure how Tab did it. I’d only been working full-time hours for a few weeks, and it felt like a million years. And I knew my sister had done far longer than eight hours a day pre-waddling.
At least I didn’t have to worry about the bakery today. It was officially closed for the wedding. Tab would probably have found a way to keep it open if she wasn’t preoccupied with keeping their little girl under her skirts for at least one more day.
The McNeills were hosting the wedding in their large backyard. Right now, an army of people were making sure Tab was as relaxed and pampered as possible. I wondered if one of our EMT friends could bring an IV bag of drugs to keep her from going into labor. Was that a thing?
All I knew was that the alarm went off way too freaking early. And Mav had been up before me. I wasn’t entirely sure he’d come to bed last night. He’d been in his shop working on something for the wedding after our trip to The Pleasure Palace.
Which we’d come home separately from. I’d tried to keep my spirits up so people wouldn’t think I was any weirder than usual. Luckily, my sister had been drooping after an hour, so I didn’t have to confess I was feeling the same way.
When Honey dropped me off, Mav was already in his shop. And during the bachelor-slash-bachelorette party, we’d kept to separate sides of the ice cream parlor. The first wave of Brady’s friends had been small, then the whole room had been packed with firefighters, cops, and paramedics making massive sundaes. Lucky had crashed the party near the end, announcing he needed the most chill ice cream available, whatever that meant.
And there had been no stripping involved. Amen to that.
I was pretty sure Mav was avoiding me, but I couldn’t think about that right now. I needed to get through this wedding without face-planting into the cake or the appetizers or even the main course. My eyelids had an equal amount of cement hanging off of them as my feet.
This first trimester tiredness was no joke.
At least I’d managed to read that much of the baby book I’d downloaded last night before I fell asleep—ironically, of course.
Tomorrow was early enough to deal with Maverick McNeill. Today was all about my sister and future brother-in-law. The fact that I was sleeping with and now procreating with an in-law was also a little gah.
Family dinners were going to be awesome.
Not.
I straightened the belt on my romper, the only thing in my closet besides a hoodie that didn’t feel too tight. It would work as I ran around making sure my sister had everything she needed today.
My heels clicked on the wood floors of Mav’s kitchen as my phone buzzed in my bag. Mickey was picking me up on the way to the McNeills’ place. A large to-go tumbler was waiting for me on the kitchen island. A sticky note in Mav’s slashing handwriting told me to drink the tea and skip the coffee.
