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“Hey, whatever works. I’m not throwing no shade. Did your grandmother ever freak you out with some of her ‘psychic’ stuff?”
“There was this one time…man, my memory is hazy now, but my grannie knew exactly when her husband died. Grandpa worked the night shift at the cannery. She said, she was dreaming that she was baking his favorite pecan pie when he came into the kitchen, kissed her on the cheek and pinched her fanny, saying, ‘You’ll always be my girl’ and then she woke up with a sense of dread and overwhelming grief. She got the call a minute later that her husband had been electrocuted on the job that night.”
Briar’s mouth dropped open. “Are you kidding me?”
“Nope. Honest to God’s truth, my grannie told me the story herself and it was hard to refute the old gal’s memory when not a single detail had changed in all the years I’d known her.”
Briar’s gaze drifted in the direction where Victoria was sleeping. “So, maybe Victoria has ‘The Sight’ like your grannie?”
“I don’t know how much I believe in that stuff but anything is possible.”
At that Briar smiled warmly, as if I kept surprising her. “If you’re not careful, you’re going to shatter my long-held bias against military men.”
“I thought you said you were attracted to men in uniform?” I reminded her with a grin.
“Yes, but I have terrible taste in men so it stands to reason that I would be attracted to a stereotypical military jerk,” she quipped with a teasing laugh.
“Well, we can’t let that happen,” I warned with a good-natured grin, saying, “most stereotypes have a grain of truth.”
But Briar’s easy laughter felt like a refreshing rainstorm on my soul, washing away the dust and cobwebs of a forgotten piece of myself and I didn’t know whether to be worried or intrigued.
My life was already about to change irrevocably. I didn’t need to borrow another cup of trouble for additional spice.
And I definitely wasn’t about to break my own code of ethics.
The best friend was off-limits.
No matter how much I was starting to like her.
4
It wasn’t a surprise for me. The test results were conclusive —Victoria was Victor’s child.
Tears sprung to my eyes as I watched him process this momentous news. I didn’t know why it mattered so much to me that he wanted to be Victoria’s father but watching the dawning joy spread across his handsome face, did something to my insides.
He was already a handsome devil, but seeing him react with genuine happiness to the news made him almost irresistible.
I surreptitiously wiped away the moisture, smiling with a tremulous, “Congratulations, it’s a girl!” and he grinned in response, though he still looked stunned.
“She’s mine,” he breathed, his blue eyes shining. “She’s really mine.”
“Yeah, I hate to tell you, I told you so, but yeah, I told you so.”
He chuckled. “Yes, you did.”
We were still at his house. The results were emailed to his personal inbox and I was glad for the privacy. Victoria was sitting on the floor, playing with some wooden spoons because it wasn’t as if Victor had a bunch of baby toys lying around and I hadn’t been able to pack much from home.
“Well? How do you feel about that?” I asked.
“I don’t know. Good. Scared. Worried.”
“Sounds about right.”
He slowly lowered himself to the floor to sit beside Victoria. She grinned at him, her beautiful eyes sparkling as if she knew all along that he was her daddy and reached a chubby hand to grab his nose.
Victor laughed softly, wondering at the child he’d made and was suddenly allowing himself to truly see. “She does look like me,” he admitted with a sheepish grin. “I had the same wild hair as a kid even though it was dark instead of blonde. Drove my mother nuts, actually. Going into the military I was able to shave it off.”
“Well, you’re not shaving her head,” I said with a barked laugh.
