Page 83 of Where the Wattles Bloom

Another punch followed. It was crazy to let something like Rowena being swept up in this high go to his head. Because he knew, sure as eggs, that she’d come down from this and be back to her cautious, pessimistic self.

But for now it was bloody contagious. There’d been no days like this since they’d found out she was pregnant, so he was going to enjoy it and worry about later, later.

‘You bet your sweet arse I will.’

*

They were stopped a half-dozen more times on the way to the patisserie with people congratulating them on the baby news.

‘Bloody hell,’ Rowena said as they neared their final destination. ‘Does everybody know?’

It did seem there were a lot more people in the know, now. Lachlan shrugged. ‘It’s a small town, word gets around fast. Plus … I don’t like to blow my own trumpet but’—he waved a hand up and down his body—‘I’m quite the catch around here.’

He drew to a halt, puffed out his chest, shoved his hands on his hips and looked thoughtfully into the distance.

She looked him up and down. ‘What is this you’re doing?’

Lachlan bugged his eyes at her but dropped the stance. ‘It’s my lumberjack pose.’

Clearly, Rowena thought it was hysterical as she covered her mouth to stifle her laughter.

‘Okay, okay.’ Lachlan chuckled good-naturedly at her hilarity. ‘My point is, people in this town have been wondering when I’ll find a nice country girl and settle down ever since Gabby hightailed it out of town. It was bound to cause gossip.’

‘But this’—she waved a hand back and forth between them—‘is the opposite of that.’

True. But he wasn’t thinking about the uncomfortable facts today, because today he was a girl dad. Lachlan shrugged as they continued on their way. ‘Well … they’ll settle for knocking up a city slicker, too.’

More laughter. ‘That’s pretty damn fickle.’

‘What can I say? They are fickle. Plus they love a new baby around here.’

‘Oh god …’ She stopped abruptly and inhaled deeply, an expression of pure bliss shuttering her eyes. The kind of bliss only a good orgasm or a handmade Italian pastry from the Morellis could accomplish.

‘Oh yes.’ She opened them again. ‘Now that’s what I’m talking about.’

‘Then let’s get in there.’

Silvano was behind the counter when they entered, and he greeted them with a level of celebrity that might normally be reserved for royalty. Or the Pope.

‘Ah, here they are.’ He beamed at his wife, who was standing beside him. ‘My two guardian angels blessing me with a visit at the same time!’

He came out from the counter, his arms wide open. Silvano wasn’t a shaker, he was a hugger, and a fierce, passionate devotee of the art. He folded Rowena up first, then Lachlan, who wasn’t sure how she’d survived hers because he was pretty sure Silvano had cracked one of his ribs.

It was good to see the older man was feeling back to full strength. He certainly looked better than when he’d first come home from his stint in Royal North Shore. His colour was back, he was moving easier and he’d lost weight.

Silvano looked between the two of them. ‘Without you guys, I’m dead.’ He held up a fist and made a noise of an exploding bomb as he spread his fingers wide. ‘A goner.’ He shook his head dramatically. ‘And you.’ He pointed at Lachlan, before smooshing Lachlan’s face between his palms. ‘You’re going to be a father. Bravo. Bravo. Felicitazioni!’

He grabbed Lachlan in another vigorous hug, slapping him hard on the back. When he was done, he turned to bestow another hug on Rowena.

‘Silvano,’ his wife protested from behind. ‘Silvano. Leave the poor girl alone. She can barely breathe. You’re squeezing her half to death, you’ll suffocate the baby.’

Lachlan was pretty sure that wasn’t a thing, but Silvano released Rowena anyway. ‘Scusi,’ he apologised with a chuckle.

‘So?’ Gina, who had also joined them around the front, looked expectantly at Rowena. ‘You know the gender yet?’

Rowena opened her mouth but closed it again, glancing at Lachlan, her eyes asking him if he wanted the honours. Her thoughtfulness wrapped around his heart but Lachlan shook his head, tipping his chin to indicate she should tell.

‘It’s a girl,’ she announced.