The Wedding Crush

Chapter Eighteen

Avery

Here’s a funny story. My best friend goes and gets engaged, I’m saddled with the—I thought—uptight brother of the groom, who I assume will be a wrench in the whole nuptials plan. But lo and behold, he turns out to be sweet, attentive, and kind. Can’t forget smart, he’d quickly remind me. Oh, and for kicks and giggles, he’s amazing in bed, and he makes Get Well Soon movie playlists to help me feel better. Naturally, I fall hard.

I’m seriously rolling around the L-word in the back of my mind.

But that’s not the funniest part.

You know how people always say, “If you want to hear God laugh, tell him your plans”?

Yeah, well, I’ll bet he’s bent over cackling today.

Earlier, I went to the drugstore.

For laughs, of course.

ANDto rule out one of my WebMD doom scrolling causes, since Aunt Flo has been here, done her thing, and left me still feeling queasy, and remembering every day of the morning sickness during my first trimester with Ace.

Such is life.

Turns out, I’m one of those early spotters, and my boyfriend of four days is expecting.

No, he doesn’t know it yet. I just found out myself. So, now, after giving him a hard time about being distracted at Wine-Down Wednesday, our highly anticipated drive in Sally and our afternoon visit to the county carnival with Ace, it’s tainted by my nerves.

I’ve got to tell him, but I can’t just blurt out, “Hey, I know we just made it official, but I’m pregnant. Oh, and by the way, I’m pretty sure I’m in love with you, and I want to jump-start that future you were talking about.” Yeah, I’m sure that’d go over well.

Ugh.

A balloon pops at my side. I snap toward the dart game, scanning my surroundings.

All at once, the sounds of the carnival whirl around me—merry-go-round music, rides clinking and hissing, the chatter of the crowd.

The overwhelming scent of popcorn mixed with cotton candy stirs my stomach.

“That one! I want to ride that one.” Ace bounces up and down on his small double-knotted red Chucks, pointing to a giant, spinning windmill contraption in the sky that looks like something straight out of a Final Destination movie.

Yeah, not today, Satan.

Not my baby.

“Oh, um…” I purse my lips, looking at that thing in sheer horror when I catch Stefano pantomiming height restrictions with his hand sliced over Ace’s definitely under four-feet eight-inches requirement. “Maybe in a year or two, big guy. You’ve got to grow a bit more for that one.”

Ace shrugs.

Relief, and perhaps that chili cheese dog I’m currently regretting, surge through me.

My stomach gurgles loudly.

Stefano winces, shielding his hand against the late afternoon sun dappled through the Ferris wheel beams. “Is it your stomach?”

You could say that.“Yeah, there’s a lot going on in there.”

“Have you thought about going to the doctor? You know, just in case it really is food poisoning.”

Shit.

A small laugh bubbles at the back of my throat.

“What’s so funny?” he asks.

“It’s a frog!” Not quite. Ace cheerfully points and announces to everyone in a ten-foot radius. Except, with his missing teeth, it sounds like: It’s a fraud!

Stefano throws back his head laughing.

Guilt curdles in my stomach.

At the same time, a collective wave of laughter pinballs between us and a handful of sugar-rushed, stuffed-animal-toting passersby with their omigosh, isn’t he adorable expressions.

Whispering, I tell Ace, “He’s in there lounging on a lily pad,” before I shake my head at Stefano.

Wordlessly, I’m telling him it’s nothing, when I’ve died a few minor deaths today because of how ironically funny this situation is. It’s hilarious, really. You labor, you plot, you make lists, then bam! Now, we’re both hypocrites. He’s rushing in, and I don’t even know if he loves me.

Heck, do I even know for certain if I love him?

My inner voice swiftly chastises me for lying to myself.

Of course, I love him.

I plan weddings. I pay attention to the details from the first consultation. The stolen glances. The constant touching. The sappy way they can’t be apart for more than two seconds.

I’ve got it bad for Stefano Fortemani, and I don’t know if the future he mentioned included Ace and me for real. Faced with the reality of us, plus the tadpole in my belly, what then? Will he still want my package deal?

Another bout of giggles spills out of me.

He arches an eyebrow. “Still nothing?” he asks with that handsome smile and easy charm.

This time it’s a soft swoon that slips past my lips.

How is he more handsome every time I see him?

“Oh, yeah, it just… The Tilt-A-Whirl plus cotton candy? No bueno,” I explain.

“Ah okay.”

Stefano gives me a reassuring nod as he tosses me a sidelong glance. I suspect he still isn’t wholly buying my story.

Rightly so, on his part.

I imagine I must look like I feel. Nervous and scared to tell him about my positive results and failing horribly at hiding it.

“I’m sleepy, Mommy,” Ace says.

Bending down to his level, I meet his big round brown eyes. He blinks slowly and rubs the back of his hand against them.

“Think you can make it a few more minutes until we get through the crowd?”

Ace shakes his head. “My legs are tired,” he says, and my whole heart wrenches at his quivering bottom lip.

“It’s okay. Don’t cry, Mommy will carry you.”

But before I can scoop him up, Stefano bends down, too. “Hmm, Mom’s tummy isn’t very happy right now. Would you mind if I carried you?” he asks Ace.

My son’s trembling lip and teary eyes as he nods are one thing.

But it’s this moment, exactly, that I know I’m so gone for this man.

Ace adores him. He felt safe with him on rides, shared his funnel cake, and held his hand at the petting zoo. Ace trusts Stefano enough to let Stefano hold him. And on top of their budding relationship, Seneca was undeniably right about women being hard-wired for men who seem responsible enough to take care of their family.

My ovaries are absolutely weeping with joy. I’m sure, so is my occupied womb.

God, if there is something wrong with this man, please tell me now before it’s too late because…

I’m standing here like a fool, more than a little hopeful, ogling this man as he sweeps my son up into his arms and rests his tiny body over his shoulder like it’s nothing.

As Ace’s small hand clings to the fabric of Stefano’s sweater, every inch of me aches with love. And a little grief over Justin.

It feels like I’m moving on from the life we shared.

Together, we walk in silence, weaving through the crowd toward the exit, when Stefano intertwines our fingers.

“I hope this is okay with you?” He darts his gaze to Ace, who’s already fast asleep.

“Oh, my goodness, yes. That boy is heavy as all get-out.” I giggle nervously. “If anything, you saved me.”

Just tell him, Avery.

I take a deep breath, stilling my nerves.

“Actually, I’ve been meaning to talk to you about, uh…”

I trail off but Stefano doesn’t miss a beat.

“I’m not falling for you anymore,” Stefano says, stealing my breath. “I’m in love with you, Avery Ellis.”

He’s breathing so hard. The vibration of his chest passes through to Ace, and I can’t stop watching his tiny body rise and fall.

Every plan I had of telling Stefano about our baby news goes straight out the window.

I’m an emotional, empathic mess inside. A bundle of feelings swarming all over me. What I feel, it isn’t one-sided, and knowing that makes everything feel within reach.

This is a milestone moment.

The man I love, loves me too. Even though he doesn’t know I’m pregnant yet, and while I should tell him now, I don’t want to taint this part. I don’t want to worry about whether his love will still stand when there’s another human involved. I don’t want to think about responsibility that won’t matter for months.

Plus, shouldn’t we come out as a couple to our friends and family before breaking any baby news?

Talk about bullet train bypassing stops.

“Say something, please.” His Adam’s apple bobs, and he smiles sweetly. “Because right now I’m freaking out, and I know I should’ve waited to tell you. I know we said this wasn’t supposed to be serious. This was just for fun. But I love you. You and your beautiful son are all I can think about, and you don’t wait with something this urgent.”

Stefano squeezes my hand and searches my eyes, imploring me to respond.

I peer up at him and smile.

Be bold.

On a deep breath, I say, “I’m pretty sure I’ve been in love with you for weeks.” I shrug.

Stefano stares at me for a few seconds, then he releases my hand and curves his to my cheek. A slow smile bends his lips. “You know we’re asking for trouble, rushing in like this…”

“It sounds like fun.”

He lowers his mouth to mine and kisses me until my knees are weak. My resolve not to get my hopes up is even weaker. No, I don’t want to taint this part.

We’ve got our last Dream Team meeting on Monday, right?

I’ll just tell him then.