Page 68 of Bound Hearts

Not wanting to prolong this, I scratch my chin. "Yeah... she’s pregnant."

“Ah.” He shifts, looking away from me, hands gripping the bench’s edge. I mirror him. Staring at the wall beyond the court, I wait in silence. “It’s the honorable thing to do,” he says, voice tinged with approval and disappointment. Is that what it is?

I’m a grown man, though. As much as I would like his support, I don’t need it.

“Yeah… lucky coincidence for the family, right?” Annoyance seeps through that sentence. But if someone is going to point it out, then it might as well be me.

I feel his hand grip my shoulder, and I glance to my side to see him staring at me with his mouth curling. “That’s a minor detail, Foster. Business is business. Family is family. I’m going to be a grandfather. If this is what you want and for the right reasons, then I’m happy.”

Relieved, I smile warmly. “It is. It’s all come as a surprise, but it’s what we want.”

He jiggles my shoulder as he grins, making a sound of excitement. “Then I will let it go that I wasn’t invited to the wedding.”

Rolling my shoulder to release his hand, I’m only going to be honest. “We eloped and kept it private. Just Sutton and me.”

“I’m not thrilled with that, but it’s your choice. How is she feeling?”

“Pretty alright. We’re already more than halfway.”

His brows rise in astonishment. “Wow, you’ve been keeping that in.”

“Can you blame me? There is a certain optic that you and Patrick push.”

My dad sighs and massages the back of his neck. “It’s true. This solves the problem that your mother left in the will. I’d be lying if I said that I’m not excited to see the look on your uncle David’s face when he realizes his company hopes have been dashed. But…” He reflects to himself, his expression turning sentimental. “Your mother only ever put it in because she wanted you to be happy and not alone. You’ve fulfilled that too, you know.”

That’s probably what I hold onto the most. The concept that it was all loving intentions.

“Well, it’s happening. I’m sure to many, the timeline will seem… desperate. It made sense for us to be married before he arrives. It’s a boy.”

His mouth twitches into a smile as he seems pleased with that news. “A boy, eh? That’s…”

Scoffing a sound, I’m not going to let him go down that rabbit hole, even if he is joking. “She never specified I had to have a son. Thank fuck she left that tradition off the table.”

“You know…” My dad is gathering his words. “I’m sorry that I put pressure on you about the clause. Maybe I thought a nudge wouldn’t hurt. You’ve never been in a serious relationship, and I always figured you as someone who would settle down.”

“Can you do me a favor? It’s a tough spot to be in. Please don’t mention any of this to Patrick. Not until I tell him,” I request.

Lines form on my dad’s forehead. “If you want to be the one to tell him, then fine, but I have a feeling you don’t want to tell him and will delay.”

Nodding, I smirk because maybe he knows me even more than I thought. “Exactly. You know how he gets. Just give me that time. The pregnancy is going well, but we still have a ways to go. A grand announcement isn’t for us, and I doubt he will be discreet.”

“Hmm,” he considers. “Well, I suppose it isn’t my news to share. I do have my seventieth birthday party in a few weeks, so take that into account.”

I touch his shoulder in appreciation. “I will. Thanks.” We meet eyes, both aware my world is about to change.

“One more favor.” It’s crucial to ask. He nods that he is listening. “Can you not talk about the clause when you’re around Sutton? She knows the gist of it.”

He seems unconcerned. “Son, you conduct your relationships the way you want to. It’s up to you to figure things out without my involvement.”

I sigh, relieved. “Thanks. Now, I believe I came here for an old man to beat me at the game.” I tilt my head toward the court.

“Be a good challenge, Son.”

We both get up, and I finally place my ring inside my bag’s pocket for safekeeping.

After the game, my father and I grabbed dinner at the club. I went straight home afterward and found Sutton sprawled on the sofa, blanket pulled below her tank top, which was riding up to her belly button. She was watching a horrible reality show about wives on TV.

“Trying to lose a few brain cells again?” I joke, grinning as I join her on the couch. She laughs, stretching her legs out, and I instantly scoop her feet into my lap to massage.