Page 159 of The Trouble with Flings

But no one outshines Jennifer, dancing a few feet away from them with the rest of the girl squad. Christ, she’s breathtaking in that pale-green dress, which I’m sure was designed specifically to drive me mad, the fabric clinging to the gentle curve of her belly and soft swell of her breasts, swaying with every movement. They say pregnant women glow. I think Jennifer glows brighter from finally allowing herself to be loved properly and allowing herself to love me back without reservation.

She’s been spending half her time on the island since school let out for the summer, working with Holden, getting ready for the baby, having an occasional loud Sunday breakfast with my family, hanging out with the girls.

When our high school principal heard about what Jennifer was doing with Holden, he reached out to her. They’ve met three times already to discuss the different types of programs they have at each of their schools, and every time they meet, she comes up with new ideas for community projects.

She truly is remarkable, and I fall deeper in love with her every day. I love waking up with her tangled around me, finding hair ties all over the house, and hearing her laughter echo through the halls when she’s on the phone with family and friends. I love how she talks to our daughter when she thinks I’m not close enough to hear her, and dozens of other things. But what I love most is the way she looks at me now. It doesn’t matter if we’re across a crowded room, snuggling on the couch eating ice cream, walking on the beach, or arguing. The trust in her eyes speaks louder than anything else.

Roddy clears his throat, jerking my attention away from Jennifer in time for me to catch him exchanging a conspiratorial glance with my father and Steve.

“Glasses up, boy,” my father says to me, Grant, Jock, and Ryan, and for the dozenth time this evening, we take spoons from our pockets and tap our glasses.

Other guests and family members join in. Wells kisses his new bride breathless, and applause and cheers ring out. He looks so damn proud. They go right back to dancing the night away.

“Look at him, spinning Victory around the dance floor like he’s been practicing for this moment his whole life,” Ryan says, though his gaze shifts to Keira, crouched in her bridesmaid dress in front of Ritchie. She’s straightening his tiny bow tie and nodding enthusiastically as he talks a mile a minute.

“Good for him,” Grant says. “He hasn’t stopped smiling all night.”

Beside me, Jock shifts Hank to his other hip and says, “As if any of us did on our wedding nights?”

Grant elbows me and says, “Are you next, little brother?”

“Or are you just going to keep shacking up and keeping her barefoot and pregnant forever?” Roddy asks.

I want this with Jennifer more than anything. We’ve come so far. Jennifer tells me she loves me all the time. Those hard-earned words are so damn precious, I’ll never take them for granted, and over the last few weeks, I’ve felt her fear slip away.

But I know better than to rush my independent girl to the altar.

“One day,” I say. “We have something much bigger coming our way in just under six weeks.” We started Lamaze classes last week. I can hardly believe there’s so little time until I meet the baby girl who already owns half my heart.

“Six weeks until your entire life changes,” Grant says.

“In the best possible way,” my father adds.

“I can’t wait.” I glance across the lawn at Jennifer coming off the dance floor with the girls. Her cheeks are flushed, her hair slightly tousled.

“Have you picked out a name yet?” Steve asks.

“Not yet, but not for lack of trying.”

“You’ll figure it out. According to Jen’s parents, anything with a J will do,” my father says.

I smile, because Jennifer is dead set against all J names, and he knows it.

“Hey, Ryan,” my father says. “You might have trouble getting your little guy to sleep tonight.” He points to Keira, standing with her back to the table with the chocolate fountain on it, blocking Ryan’s view of Ritchie like a bodyguard as Ritchie dips pieces of fruit in the chocolate and then eats them as fast as he possibly can.

“Jesus.” Ryan shakes his head, but he’s smiling. “Your daughter makes me crazy.”

“Better you than me,” my father says.

As Ryan heads over to Keira and Ritchie, Jamison sidles up to Roddy, his gaze shifting around the room. “Dad, you’ve got to help me. Mom’s trying to set me up with one of her friend’s daughters.”

Roddy laughs. “She’s a persistent one. How do you think she scored a catch like me?”

“There he is!” Gail exclaims, pointing to Jamison.

“Shit.” Jamison looks around as Bellamy walks by filming the people on the dance floor. He rushes over and takes her arm, dragging her up to dance as she bitches about him ruining her video.

“That’s not going to end well,” my father says.