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“Uggghhhhh,” Gigi says, pretending to gag.
“You know you love it,” Mel laughs as I follow Gigi back down the hallway to her bedroom. I put Georgie down and she goes nuts with a new room to explore, diving through all of Gigi’s things.
I drop down on the edge of Gigi’s bed as she rifles through her closet and pulls out a pair of dark jeans and a black top before quickly pulling them on. She grabs her boots and a jacket then fluffs up her hair in her tiny mirror, and all I can do is stare. She looks stunning, and I can’t wait to show her off to my family again.
We leave Mel behind to tend to her scorched pussy, and before I know it, we’re pulling up at the restaurant. Georgie does a repeat performance and demands Gigi get her out of her car seat, and to be honest, I’m fucking jealous.
I love doing things for Georgie, even the small things like getting her out of my truck, but I guess I’m going to have to get used to sharing. I love that Georgie loves Gigi, but it would be nice if Georgie could pretend that she still remembers who I am every now and then. Though as she gets used to Gigi being around, she’ll settle back into her old self. For now, she’s just excited.
As we walk into the restaurant, all hell breaks loose. Brianna and Carter’s twins notice us first and squeal at the same time, making all heads turn our way, and with that everyone is on their feet. They crowd up, saying hello and checking on Georgie while putting in the extra effort to welcome Gigi.
After the long, drawn-out hellos, we get comfortable at the table while Georgie crawls around under it, giggling like a hyena as she unties everyone’s shoelaces. The waiter comes and takes our orders and returns moments later with a few bottles of champagne before getting busy filling a glass for everyone.
Everyone is having a great time when Cassie speaks up, her narrowed gaze locked on her best friend. “What’s the matter with you?” she asks, staring at Brianna. “You’re not drinking.”
My gaze flicks down to Brianna’s champagne and realize it’s been left untouched, which isn’t a cause for alarm, apart from the fact it’s Brianna. She never skips out on a good drink. Then before she has a chance to say anything, I realize my thoughts have been right. Carter and Bri are expecting another baby.
A grin rips across my face as Brianna looks at Carter, letting him take the lead on this one. He laces his fingers through hers on the table before glancing back at everyone, pride flashing in his eyes. Carter’s chest inflates as if he’s about to say something when Logan flies to his feet with his drink in his hand. “Fuck yeah,” he cheers, raising his glass to Brianna and Carter.
Cheers boom through the restaurant while Cassie stares at her best friend in confusion, her brows furrowed. “What the fuck am I missing here?” she questions.
“Babe,” Jax chuckles. “Your brother knocked up your best friend again.”
“What?” she screeches as she flies to her feet and practically crawls across the table to get to her best friend, having to stop halfway as she starts sobbing with uncontrollable happiness.
Logan clears his throat and gains the table’s attention. “While we’re at it,” he says, looking down at his wife with love. “Elle’s pregnant, too.”
What. The. Fuck?
A grin rips across my face, and I hardly know where to look. Do I smile at Bri? Do I smile at Elle? Do I look at Georgie to see if she understands what’s going on? Do I collapse to the ground out of pure happiness?
Holy shit.
I came here today expecting one pregnancy announcement, but two? Wow. Our family is growing, and I can’t wait to meet these little guys.
Fuck, I wish Mom and Dad were here to see this. I could just imagine Mom’s face.
Gigi squeezes my hand under the table and gives me a beaming smile, and I can’t help but feel just how right it is to have her here with my family, my two worlds colliding. And damn it, I can’t resist leaning over and pressing a kiss to her warm lips.
I order another bottle of champagne for the table, and just as the party really gets started, a short Italian man frantically rushes into the restaurant, screaming for help. “Please, someone,” he yells in a thick Italian accent. “I need a doctor. My wife is having a baby.”
Without even a moment of hesitation, Gigi flies to her feet and shoots toward the man, and I follow behind in case she needs anything. “My name is Gigi. I’m a trained midwife,” she says to the man, her hand on his shoulder in a calming gesture. “Where’s your wife?”
