Total pages in book: 29
Estimated words: 27761 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 139(@200wpm)___ 111(@250wpm)___ 93(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 27761 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 139(@200wpm)___ 111(@250wpm)___ 93(@300wpm)
All those things sped through my mind until Birdie cried that the test was hers. I didn’t know you had to keep taking pregnancy tests but what the hell do I know about that shit?
“Are you going to find out the baby’s gender?” asks Tucker’s fiancée, Cam. “Let’s have a huge gender reveal party. We’ll have it here, of course. I envision tents on the south lawn. Balloons. No, wait. Balloons are bad for the environment. Let’s go with papier maché lanterns with soy candles in shades of the sunset—reds, yellows, oranges, purples. Very gender neutral. One hundred, maybe two hundred?” She winks at Tucker, who is growing pale at the thought. He’s not one for big crowds. “What do you think, babe?”
He takes a big gulp of his water. “Up to you.”
Around the table, my cousins and their women are smothering smiles at his obvious discomfort. It shouldn’t be funny, but the way Tucker is sweating and rubbing his hands against his thighs is comical.
“Two hundred seems a conservative estimate given my client list here in Texas, and I know some folks over in Vegas and even LA will want to come pop some balloons—I mean light some lanterns.”
“Don’t forget Europe,” pipes up Maria, our resident princess. “Right, Daddy?”
Her father, His Royal Highness Harold Costatelli of Luxemstei, nods regally. “That’s right. We’ll have a few names for the guest list.”
Never a coward, Tucker clears his throat. “I’ll be there. Can’t have a party without me.” He smiles, but it’s a grim one.
Cam bursts out laughing. “Babe, I would never expect you to endure this. You go hide out in our house, and when the flares go up, light a cigar in celebration. You’ll be with us in spirit.”
He sags with visible relief. “Thank God.”
Cam turns to the rest of the table and points at us with her fork. “But I expect the rest of you, especially you.” She shakes the utensil at Blake.
“Why me?” he wonders.
“Because I’m going to set you up.”
“Oh, I like this.” Birdie claps her hands. “Who are you thinking?”
“I don’t know. I feel like we can use this opportunity to vet candidates. Like Lara Ferguson seems sweet, but I don’t know her very well.”
“She wears the hell out of a dress,” Birdie muses. “How about you, Astor? Do you have any ideas for Blake?”
Astor doesn’t hear them. She’s too busy making tunnels through her gravy.
“Astor, honey?” Birdie repeats.
This time Astor’s head pops up. A wan smile spreads across her face. “No. I don’t have any. Sorry.” She sets her fork down. “I have to go. My dad’s going to be worried about me, and I can only use the cow chasing excuse so many times before it’s no longer believable. Thanks for breakfast.” She pushes away and hurries toward the door.
Everyone looks from her untouched plate to my face.
“Whatever y’all cook up is good for me. Just text me the details.” I throw down my napkin and stride after Astor. I barely catch her before she climbs into her truck. I grab her door and hold it open. “What’s the hurry?” She fiddles with the charging cord for her phone and doesn’t answer at first. “Is it the baby?”
She shakes her head and tries to give me a smile, but since it doesn’t travel to her eyes, I’m not buying it. “Not gonna lie, when you dropped it, I thought you were the pregnant one, and I was damned happy. If you were pregnant, I’d be shouting it to the heavens. We’d be having a party for at least a thousand.”
Astor’s expression doesn’t change. “I’m not, so you’ll have to be disappointed.”
“But it’s also fine if you’re not. We have plenty of years for pregnancy,” I say. “Gotta get your house renovated first. It’s not baby ready.”
Astor drops her head to the steering wheel. “My dad would be so mad, I don’t think my ears would stop ringing.”
“Nah, he’d be happy. Grandparents are always happy. They get all of the fun with the kid and none of the hard times. In fact, we should test it out and see what happens. Float the idea by him. If he softens up, we can start putting some effort into putting a baby in your belly.”
She perks up. “Actually, you might be on to something, Cane.” She starts the truck and reaches for the door. “I’m going to run this idea past him. You could be right.”
“Course I am,” I say with all the confidence I don’t feel. “I’ll follow behind you so that when he melts in happiness, I can come in with the ring.”
“Let’s hold off on that, cowboy.” But she says it with a grin, so I can’t be all mad that she’s leaving.
I love this girl, and if I end up being that damned poet that dies in the tree waiting for his love, I guess that’ll be me. Nah. I’m climbing the branches, dropping in her room and carrying her off if worse comes to worst. Astor’s going to be mine. You can take that to the bank.