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That confirmation came earlier today, and although Sean and Callie aren’t ready to broadcast the news to the world yet, he wants to share it with our closest friends.
He told me he plans to sit Declan and Ava down to tell them soon as well.
“You knocked up your fiancée, didn’t you?” Kavan chuckles. “It’s written all over your face, Sean.”
Sean brushes a hand over his cheek. “What the fuck, Bane? You ruined my big moment.”
Graham pats Sean in the center of the back. “Your big moment is coming, Sean,” he says with all the wisdom of a father. “That moment when your child is born is the big moment.”
He should know since he’s the only parent in this room.
“I’m not against you naming it after me if it’s a boy.” Kavan smiles. “Bane Wells is a hell of a strong name.”
Sean reaches to smack Kavan’s chest. “I like that, Bane, but no. We’ll get through these first three months before we start thinking about names.”
It’s the prudent thing to do, but I hope this pregnancy goes off without a hitch. Sean is going to make a hell of a good father.
Three hours later, I drop my keys on the foyer table in my home and turn to punch in the code to set the security alarm.
As soon as I do that, I notice another set of keys next to where I placed mine.
A smile coasts over my lips.
I glance toward the staircase, but I know that given the time, my sister is probably fast asleep by now.
That assumption is quickly shot down when I hear rustling in the kitchen. Loosening my tie, I head in that direction.
Her shoulder-length brown hair is braided. She’s wearing a pair of jeans and a blue T-shirt. It’s her usual attire when she’s put in a full day in our test kitchen.
Before we launched Food Harmony, Joslyn came to work dressed in black pants and a chef’s coat as she worked to develop recipes. She earned the right to wear the coat after graduating from Le Corden Bleu in Paris. Gifting her the funds she needed to do that was one of the best investments I’ve ever made.
“Hey!” I call out to her as she’s rummaging through a cupboard. “What are you on the hunt for?”
She tosses me a weak wave. “Microwave popcorn.”
I choke back a laugh. “You’re joking, right?”
“Wrong.” Her hands drop to her hips. “I’m craving some good old-fashioned buttery microwave popcorn.”
I shove out of my suit jacket, hanging it over the back of one of the stools next to the island. “I’ll make you real popcorn with coconut oil and some seasonings.”
“I didn’t ask for that.” She sighs. “Can’t we just indulge in some junk food tonight? It’ll take me five minutes to run down to the bodega to get the popcorn I like.”
I head toward the stove. “You’ll sit and tell me about your day while I make you the best popcorn you’ve ever had.”
She begrudgingly sits on one of the stools. “I remember when you used to indulge in junk food, Harrison. What happened to those glorious days?”
Shaking my head, I laugh. “You’re the chef, Jos. You’re supposed to preach the merits of a healthy diet to me.”
“I’d much rather be eating microwave popcorn than doing that.”
I get to work removing my cuff links so I can fold up the sleeves of my shirt. “You know how much I love having you around, but I thought you had your apartment all to yourself now that you kicked Russ to the curb.”
“I do.” She kneads her hands together. “I ran into Tana when I was out for a walk today, and …”
Shit. I know where this is going.
I turn my back on her and reach up to a cupboard to grab the popcorn. “And, what, Jos?”
“You had a sleepover, and your date’s dress somehow ended up in the trash in my room.”
I turn back to face her. She looks like she snared me in a trap. I’ve kept my private life as close to the vest as possible. I’ve never introduced a woman I’ve dated or slept with to my family since those relationships were headed nowhere.
“A friend slept over,” I clarify, even though I can’t say for sure if I view Ava that way. “She showered in your bathroom and tossed the dress out because it was stained.”
Her nose scrunches. “Gross, Harrison. Did you make a mess on it?”
My hand darts in the air between us. “Stop.”
“Tana said you are having it cleaned so you can return it to your friend.” She puts a sarcastic spin on the last word. “Will you do that during your next sleepover?”
“No.” I move to retrieve a jar of coconut oil. “No more sleepovers with that friend.”
“Too bad.” Her lips dip into a frown. “It wouldn’t hurt you to spend more than one night with a woman.”
