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“Are you going to have to sell your house?”
“Not because of Connie. If Darby wants something different, then absolutely.”
“You shouldn’t spoil her so much. She’s turning into quite a diva.”
I raise an eyebrow and stare Annie down.
“No, really, Pierce. Her ego is growing by the day. I tried to call her this morning, and she rushed me off the phone. Doesn’t even have time for her mama on a holiday. What kind of daughter did I raise?” She’s throwing in the dramatics to hide her hurt feelings.
Mom coughs to conceal her laugh, covering her mouth with her hand.
“Annie, they are expecting to serve Thanksgiving dinner to over a thousand people today.”
“It’s a buffet, and it’s not like she’s doing the cooking.”
“No, but she’s responsible for a portion of the desserts.”
“Whatever. She’s lying to me, too, telling me she had a meeting. No manager schedules a meeting today.”
I’m not as polite as my mom and don’t cover my smile at Annie’s grouchiness. “Annie, she didn’t lie to you. She got word this morning. She did it.”
Her sullen expression lights up, and her eyes gleam. “She did it,” she repeats, knowing what I’m referring to.
I fill them in on my conversation and plans to fly out tonight. “Now that you are up to speed with my life, I’m going out back.”
Dad, Miller, Edward, and Evin are sitting out under the outdoor cabana, drinking beer and watching football. All of their eyes roam behind me. Miller shakes his head in disgust, but no one says anything about me being alone. “The beer is stocked.” He tips his bottle.
I grab one, sit by Evin, and clink my bottle to his. “Darby call you yet?”
“Not yet, figured we’d touch base before she goes to the employee dinner tonight.”
I repeat the story and my travel plans. Similar to the incident in the kitchen, Darby’s news overshadows the frustration with Connie’s trick.
“You really think the hotel here will be ready by spring?” Warren’s question strikes me as odd coming off the news I shared.
“Yes.”
“And she’ll be back.”
“That’s the plan.”
“You think she’ll always have to work this grueling schedule around the holidays?”
“Knowing Darby, she’ll volunteer to put in the hours, especially until she has a solid team in place.”
He nods thoughtfully, squinting his eyes and dragging his hand over his chin.
“What are you getting at, Dad?” Evin breaks in.
“She’s not getting any younger, and seeing as the holidays next year are going to be crazy, I’m thinking Pierce needs to get busy on making me and Annie a grandchild.”
The beer lodges in my throat, and I choke, the burn working its way down painfully. Evin slaps me on the back, maybe a little too hard, until I catch my breath.
“Don’t you think I need to get her down the aisle first?”
“Y’all bucked that tradition once; why hold out for it now?”
“Jesus.” Evin drops his head.
Miller and Dad erupt in laughter, and I stare at Edward. He’s serious. Dead serious. His lips may be twitching, but his eyes give away his intent.
“You want me to get her pregnant? Now?”
“Now’s as good a time as any.” He ticks his fingers, mouthing something, then looks back at me. “I figure, if you do the job right, we’ll have a baby next August. That’ll work for us.”
Like I said… he’s dead fucking serious.
“We’re the same age. She has plenty of time.” Evin sounds panicked at the thought of his dad encouraging me to get Darby pregnant without being married—again.
“We’re working on you next,” Edward tells him.
“You’re on your own here. I’m not wading into this clusterfuck,” Evin utters.
Nothing about Darby being pregnant terrifies me. It didn’t scare me twelve years ago, and it doesn’t scare me now. What does put me on edge is thinking about her carrying my baby so far away. I’d be a madman.
“Maybe I should have this conversation with Darby.”
“Having a conversation with Darby means you give her time to process and come back with an argument. It took you weeks to get her to accept your proposal.”
At this reminder, all the men burst into laughter. I grind my teeth, knowing I’ll never live that down. They take aim at me every chance they get.
“My point is, don’t discuss anything with her because we’ll lose time that we don’t have. You obviously know what you’re doing when it comes to the biology involved, so I need you to make this happen, like tonight.”
He didn’t say Connie’s name, but the reference to her pregnancies is there. He’s not insulting me; he’s driving home his point. Edward Graham is playing hardball. I chug the rest of my beer before responding. “You’re giving me permission to knock up your daughter? Are you drunk?”
“Sober as a goat. I figure, this time around, you’re not letting her get away. Which means we’re stuck with you forever. It’s time to make yourself useful.”
