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Alex didn’t look convinced, and I sure as hell wasn’t. The only reason Danny wouldn’t share the details of his date was if he felt I’d disapprove. My brother dating Vicki wasn’t exactly high on the list of things I wanted to deal with at the moment.
“You’re right,” Alex said after some more pondering. “You’re absolutely right. He probably just met some woman at that organic market he’s always talking about.”
“Exactly. I’m sure he’ll tell us all about his date next weekend at the baby shower.”
The subject of Danny and his mystery date lingered in the air for a few awkward moments. But then Alex pulled me into his arms and held me close. He smelled like wood shavings and paint, and when I pressed my cheek to his chest, savoring the way he pulled me flush against him, I could hear the slow rhythm of his heart.
“Are you still happy to host Sam and Maya for dinner tomorrow night?” he asked, kissing the top of my head.
“Of course,” I said, glancing up at him, noticing the faint stubble on his chin. Considering it was Saturday, and we’d gone straight into tackling the nursery after waking up, Alex hadn’t had time to shave just yet. I kind of hoped he wouldn’t. That five o’clock shadow was hot as hell. “I’m actually excited.”
“Are you really?”
“I am, and I know exactly what I’m going to make for dinner. Chicken Parmigiano. You think Sam will like it?”
“He’ll love it.”
CHAPTER 24
Alex
“Why am I so nervous?” Sophie said, shaking out her arms like she was warming up for a dance competition. “Feel my forehead, Alex. I’m burning up from nerves.” She reached for my hand and pushed my palm against her forehead—it wasn’t any warmer than usual.
“You’re fine,” I said, hoping the smile on my face was enough to reassure her. But it seemed to have zero effect. Sophie was undoubtedly nervous about meeting Sam. It was pretty cute and rather funny, and I would’ve said so if Sophie didn’t look like she was about to hyperventilate.
“I’m practically a furnace, Alex.” She grabbed a prenatal care pamphlet off the kitchen counter and began to fan herself. “What if I mess up the dinner? What if the chicken tastes terrible, and he thinks I can’t look after you? What if Sam doesn’tlikeme?”
I barely had time to get a word out, tell her to calm down, when Sophie’s eyes nearly popped out of her head. “Sam didn’t like Vicki, he could just as easily not like me either . . .
That’s a deal breaker, Alex. Your friends aresupposed tolike me.”
I laughed but then caught myself when Sophie sent a glower my way.
“It’s not funny,” she grumbled.
“I know,” I said, thinking of ways to put an end to her suffering. The only thing that came to mind was a little TLC. I smoothed my palms down her arms and twined our fingers together.
“Sam’s going to love you. He already does, since I talk about you all the time.”
“You don’t know that.” Sophie sulked, leaning into me. “He might think I’m a slut because I slept with you at the seminar. He might think Iintentionallyslept with you. Have you ever heard of a doctor groupie?”
I shook my head.
“Well,” she said, stepping back toward the dining room table, which she had set up more than two hours ago, and scrutinizing the setting like she was a perfectionist on a mission. Though it wasn’t necessary. Everything from the new silverware to the crystal glasses to the napkins folded with origami-level strictness was in its perfect place. “There are women who literally only date doctors because theyaredoctors,” she said, rounding the table.
“Well, you’re not one of them.”
“I know that.” Sophie straightened a knife that didn’t need to be straightened. “But Sam might not—”
The doorbell sliced through the air. Sophie's gaze flicked up in its direction. I could see her muscles tighten, her entire body jumping into what could only be fight-or-flight mode.
Hopefully, neither of those responses was necessary.
“Sam and Maya will love you, because you’re easy to love,” I said, backtracking toward the door. “Because I love you more than I’ve ever loved anyone, and Sam knows that. You’re not likeVicki, Soph. You won’t ever be. There’s absolutely no need to worry.”
“If you say so,” Sophie said, still looking far too miserable. She ran her fingers through her blonde waves, pushed back her shoulders, and followed me to the entrance hall.
Just before I opened the door, Sophie stood up on her toes and whispered in my ear, “I also love you more than I’ve ever loved anyone.”
