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The fact he had the ring in his pocket for the past five months. Why the hell did I not snoop around his place when I first moved in? I could have put all my doubts and fears to rest ages ago, but I respect his reasoning. He needed my trust, and he’s right, a marriage without trust isn’t a marriage at all. It never would have worked, and I would have hated going into something that was burdened by pain.
Ever since he found out about the pregnancy, he’s been saying how he wanted to make this work, but that the scars he left on my heart were telling me that he only wanted this for the twins, that he wanted to do what was right by them. It felt like he was punishing himself for knocking me up in the first place.
But now . . . I see I was wrong to doubt him. He truly does want this and has made my world complete by asking.
And then . . . he took me to bed, and it was everything . . . though slightly awkward with the size of my stomach. We had to be creative, but that’s never held us back before. It was like coming home. I know we had that drunken night together, which obviously resulted in the invasion currently taking residence in my guts, but I feel like I haven’t truly been with him that way since before the split. It was magical, and my heart has never been so full.
Swinging the door open, I try to hop out of the truck, but I’m stuck and have to call for Carter to come help. And I’m not surprised to find the stupid smirk across his face as he finds me half falling out the door. “What seems to be the problem?” he questions, knowing damn well that I’m stuck. Hell, I’ve been getting stuck everywhere lately.
“Shut up and help me out of here,” I demand.
Carter chuckles, clearly thinking it’s the funniest thing he’s ever seen, and after a scathing glare, he hoists me safely out of his truck. Once I’m on my feet, Carter takes my hand and helps me up the stairs of Sean’s huge home, his thumb rubbing back and forth across my knuckles and only making the butterflies worse.
Reaching the front door, Carter doesn’t bother stopping to knock, though I’m not surprised. In the whole time I’ve known him, I’ve only ever seen him knock twice, and both times were when he was trying to break down my door. “Yo,” Carter calls, as we welcome ourselves into the foyer. “Where is everyone?”
I hear Elle, Logan’s fiancé, responding from somewhere within the enormous house. “We’re all out back,” she says.
We make our way through the house and find her in the kitchen, struggling to balance three plates, and Carter, being the perfect gentleman, swoops in and saves her, taking the plates off her hands.
“Thanks,” she sighs in relief before leaning in and kissing him on the cheek. She moves onto me next and has to move around my side to get her arms around me. “How are you feeling?” she asks as we make our way outside.
“Exhausted,” I tell her. “I can’t wait to get these babies out of me. I swear, my whole body feels as though it’s moments from giving out.”
We step outside to find everyone sitting out on the grass with little Georgia, or Georgie, as she’s been nicknamed, on a picnic rug, playing with all her toys. She’s eight months old now and the light of my life. The little beauty is an absolute gift to this world, and I can’t wait to watch her grow and develop into a beautiful young woman. Though I think watching her give her daddy hell over the next eighteen years is going to be the best part.
“Hey,” Logan says as he notices us hovering around the back door. Everyone turns at his greeting and gets to their feet, and in no time, the whole Waters family is crowding around, giving hugs and kisses as they welcome us to the party.
“I’d love to stay here and chat all day, but my feet are killing me,” I tell them. “I need to sit down.” Carter hands the plates off to Jax and takes my hand to help me walk across the grass, and Cassie joins us on my other side, making sure I get there safely.
We eventually make it to the picnic rug where Georgie sits happily playing with her toys, and as I look at the ground, I realize getting down there is going to be a lot harder than I thought.
Well, shit.
I cringe as I attempt to bend a million different ways, going backward or forward and even trying the awkward side squat, but there’s no way in hell this is going to happen. If I attempt again, I fear I might actually fall down and never get up again. “Hey, Logan,” Carter calls to his brother, who’s making out with Elle at the backdoor. “Bring a chair down for Bri.”
