Page 154 of The Trouble with Flings

As Keira chases Wells, he spins around, holding his hands up in surrender, and says, “Wait! Kill me later! We have a reveal to do!”

“Everyone grab a tube!” Joey shouts as she and Thane cut through the crowd pulling big red wagons full of tubes like the ones we just used.

“You corrupted the children?” Bellamy shouts as everyone grabs a tube.

“In my defense, Joey was already corrupted by these two when they pranked Levi.” Wells hikes a thumb over his shoulder at Jock and Archer, who are still groveling to their wives.

Wells grabs two of the tubes from a wagon and jogs over to us. “Sorry, bro. Sorry, Jen,” he says, sounding a little sorry and mostly amused. “But it’s important to bring your kid up Silver Island style.”

He hands us each a tube, and Jennifer says, “This one better not release bats.”

“No promises,” Wells says. Then he turns to the crowd and throws his arms up. “Who’s ready for the real reveal?”

Cheers burst from the crowd.

“FYI,” Wells says, “that guest book we had you sign was really a disclaimer stating we’re not responsible for powder injuries, so be sure to aim for the sky, and watch the little ones! I’ll let Fitz do the honors.”

I look at Jennifer again and say, “One more time?”

“On the count of three!” she says, and we both count down. “One. Two. Three!”

A deafening series of pops erupts across the bluff as everyone twists their tubes at once. Clouds of brilliant pink smoke explode into the sky from every direction, rolling over the lawn in cotton-candy plumes while hundreds of pink streamers and shiny pink dragonflies sail through the air and drift back down over the crowd in a shimmering rain of pink.

Cheers crash around us, loud enough to drown out the ocean itself, but I barely hear any of it, because Jennifer is staring up at the sky with tears in her eyes, one hand pressed to her mouth while pink dragonflies tumble through the sunlight around us.

“A girl,” she says shakenly.

Emotion lodges so hard in my chest, it nearly takes me out at the knees. I frame her beautiful face with my hands, kissing her forehead, her cheeks, her trembling lips.

With tears in my eyes and love in my heart, I say, “Our girl.”

Her brow furrows, and she says, “I hope we survive her.”

Our laughter dissolves into happy, overwhelmed, and slightly terrified kisses.

“You have to change the baby’s nickname, stat!” Leni shouts. “You can’t call a girl Little Bean!”

Laughter breaks out around us.

“She’s right,” Jennifer says.

It would break my heart to call our daughter something else, but I nod, reluctantly, wanting to support her decision.

A glint of mischief sparks in Jennifer’s eyes, and she says, “But I’ve never been one to do what I’m told.”

“That’s my wild girl. Get over here.” I lower my lips to hers and kiss her breathless.

We’re still flying high when we get back to my house, the last of the sunlight spilling across the ocean.

Jennifer toes off her sandals in the foyer with a tired sigh. “I still can’t believe the amount of effort everyone put into today,” she says as she wanders into the living room. “Nobody’s ever done anything like that for me before.”

My chest tightens, because I can’t imagine anybody not wanting to celebrate everything about her. “I’ve got one more surprise for you.”

Her brows lift. “Fitz Silver. If you bought a pony, we need to have a serious conversation.”

“No pony.” I hold out my hand. “Come on, wild girl. Upstairs.”

Curiosity flickers across her face as she takes my hand. When we reach the nursery door, I say, “Are you ready?”