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“And me.” Blakely pipes up. The room erupts in soft laughter.
“And our niece, Blakely, of course.” Brooks smiles down at her, and you can see the love he has for her.
“Anyway, thank you for being here. Now let’s find out if we’re adding a little girl or another rowdy Kincaid boy to the mix.”
“A girl!” Carol Kincaid shouts once again, and the room fills with laughter. After raising nine boys, I expect she would wish for a granddaughter or two to spoil.
“If not, I’ll be sure to think girl next time,” Brooks tells her. Palmer’s face heats as she shakes her head at her husband.
The room is filled with all of Declan’s family, as well as Palmer’s. Her brother is marrying Declan’s cousin. Everyone is intertwined. Both sets of parents are here as well. My grandma sits at a table with both of them. She’s been a social butterfly and thrilled that Palmer extended the invitation to her.
So easily, I’ve fallen into a routine here in Willow River. Not just routine, but the relationships I’ve formed here are most unexpected. Not just my relationship with Declan, but with his daughter and his family and extended family. I feel as if I’ve lived in Willow River all my life.
“Ready, Blake?” Brooks asks.
“Ready!” she cheers.
“Ready, beautiful?” he asks Palmer.
From where I’m sitting, I can see the tears already welling in her eyes, but her smile is radiant. Brooks smiles back at her, and they count down from three.
Two.
One.
Brooks, Palmer, and Blakely all pull their cannons, and pink confetti fills the room. Blakely squeals as Brooks lifts his wife into his arms and spins her around. She’s barely back on her feet before he’s crushing her mouth with his.
A ball of emotion wells in my throat while tears prick my eyes. I’m happy for them, thrilled, but I’m also a little jealous. Not of the love they share, although it does seem to be one for the storybooks, but of the baby they’ve created. The life that Palmer will get to feel grow inside her. Something I’ll never be able to do. My heart is equal amounts heavy and full as I watch them celebrate the life that they created.
“You good?” Declan asks. His lips are next to my ear.
I turn, and he’s close, so close that all I have to do is lean in just a fraction of an inch to press my lips to his, so that’s exactly what I do. If there was ever a time for a kiss from Declan, now is it. His kisses make everything better.
“I’m okay,” I say, pulling away. “Happy and sad at the same time.” I’ve never not been honest with him, and I’m not going to start holding back now. If we manage to make the distance between us work, something I’ve been thinking about nonstop since he asked me to stay last weekend, our communication is going to have to be impeccable.
“You’re going to be an amazing mother.” His words grip my heart like a vise. There is no hesitation or doubt in his words. Is he talking about Blakely? She’s a very special little girl, and it would be an honor for her to call me mom, but I don’t know if that’s what he means or if he’s just telling me that it will happen for me.
I know that I can adopt or even obtain a surrogate or be a foster parent all on my own, and I’m willing to do that, but I also crave what I see between Brooks and Palmer. I might not be able to carry a baby, but I can love one. I can love one with my whole heart, but I want a partner to do it with me.
Is Declan telling me he’s willing to adopt? To foster? To toss around the possibility of a surrogate?
“I can see the wheels in your head spinning, baby. I remember every word of every conversation. I know that it’s unlikely for you.” He nods toward Brooks and Palmer. “I also know that there are a lot of babies and kids out there who need a family.”
“W-What are you saying?”
“I’m saying that Blake can be a big sister anytime you’re ready. We’ll discuss our options, the risks, and anything else that we need to discuss, and then we’ll make it happen.”
“Declan.” I whisper his name.
He stands, lacing his fingers through mine, and pulling me out of the banquet room and down the hall to my grandmother's office. We slip inside unnoticed as he closes the door and locks it. He advances until my back hits the wall. His lips mold with mine as his hard body presses against me.
He kisses me like it might be the last time he ever has the chance, and my heart aches just from the thought of never having him like this again. So open, carefree, and loving. I’ve never been with a man who’s so open and romantic. He’s always touching me. Not always sexual, although any touch from him lights my body on fire. His touch is just to assure me he’s there, or maybe it’s to assure himself. Either way, I’ve quickly become addicted. I should never have started this with him. I’m breaking more hearts than my own.
