19. There’s No Such Thing As Ready
19
There’s No Such Thing As Ready
LEIGHTON
Olliver Hart
I’m so sorry, Trouble. I’m an idiot.
If I were in your shoes, I’d feel the same way, and I’m so sorry. My anxiety got the best of me. Please forgive my lapse in sanity. I didn’t mean to put you on the spot like that, or ever make you feel like anything other than the love of my fucking life.
This baby is a blessing, Leigh. Not something to cover up. You deserve the world, and so does she.
Call me when you’re ready, please. I promise not to freak out on you twice in twenty-four hours.
I woke up to the sound of my niece giggling maniacally—no doubt under attack from a pair of merciless tickle monsters disguised as my brothers—and for a blissful second, that sound was a balm to my bruised heart. Warm, familiar, safe.
But reality came crashing back the second I rolled over and checked my phone.
Ollie’s name lit up the screen like a siren.
Texts. Plural.
Had the man even slept?
Judging by the timestamps… I was going with a firm no.
My chest squeezed. Big , dumb, beautiful idiot. Somehow, I was equally annoyed and concerned, which made no goddamn sense. Why was it that I could be so mad at someone, and still want to hug them until my arms gave out?
If that’s what love felt like, maybe I didn’t want it after all. It was way too confusing. Way too much.
Still scowling, I tapped out a response.
Leighton
I’m safe at my parents’ place. We’re okay, Ollie. Breathe. Just…give me some time to process, please.
Eight-thirty in the morning.
So…I counted on my fingers, palming at my face as I sat up in bed, already aware my stomach felt precarious at best. Five-thirty my time. Yikes .
I sipped my water and blinked into the cute, decked-out guest room, smiling at all the seashells and starfish and other nautical nonsense my mother had painstakingly curated for her little Florida farmhouse. There was color coming out the yin-yang, and lord knew Juniper Rhodes thrived in all this blue and yellow and coral. Each shade would make her smile for a different reason.
The sun catcher in the window was beaded out of sea glass from Mistyvale—the familiar teals making me inhale deeply, like I could feel the chilled mist on my face.
That was the thing, though.
I might’ve grown up on the black shores of the Alaskan archipelago, but in a family this size—one that roamed as freely as ours did— home was never a place. It was our people. Their voices now filtered up from the stairwell beside this bedroom, and a familiar warmth bloomed in my chest.
The squeal of laughter and slap of tiny feet had me opening the door with caution, just in time to see a tubby, curly-haired blonde toddler go sprinting past with her little fists raised triumphantly above her head—Paxton hot on her heels.
“Mornin’, punky,” he said, grinning as he ‘chased’ our niece down the hallway.
“Mornin’!” I chirped back, shaking my head, cheeks already aching when Pax scooped the tiny little-girl version of Rhyett into his arms. Quinn shrieked with laughter as he blew raspberries on her round belly, then tossed her over his shoulder like a sack of grain—still squealing as he tickled her legs.
“Breakfast is on the griddle,” he called.
“Nice.” I yawned, stretching my arms as I followed him down the stairs. “Morning, Quinny!”
“Hep, Kai!!!”
“I’m Leighton !” I said in mock outrage, loving the way her little eyes rounded like I’d just announced I was Santa Claus.
“Hep, Auntie!!”
“Safe bet, kid—but you’re on your own.”
My feet had barely hit the last stair when the Mom Radar activated. Juniper Rhodes turned from the stove, radiant in a flowy, sapphire-blue tie-dye sundress. Her wavy mane of blonde hair was pinned up in a claw clip, and her eyes landed on me like a heat-seeking missile.
“Mornin’, Mama.”
“Oh, sweet girl,” she cooed, like I was six instead of twenty-three. But fuck, if those open arms didn’t make my knees wobble. Okay, my chin too. Knowing settled in the crinkles around her eyes as she crossed the kitchen and wrapped me up.
“God, it’s like hugging myself,” she teased, tightening her grip. I forced a chuckle. That wasn’t the first—or the five hundredth—time she’d made that joke. We were pretty much the same height, and it was no question where I’d gotten my figure from. “I love you so much, sweet pea. Glad to have you here early.”
“Just couldn’t wait to see us, beautiful?” Rhyett’s voice floated over from the griddle where he manned the pancakes. I took two steps back. The smell of bacon on deck was not gonna settle well with my current stomach.
“Obviously,” I drawled, earning a dimpled grin. He looked exactly how he sounded these days—sun-kissed, blond, and sunshiney, with a worn baseball tee and beach dad energy.
“Hey, Leigh!” Brexley chirped from the sectional near the window, her long tan legs folded under her. She had their two-week-old baby girl cradled in her arms, happily nursing like a champ. Her bleach-blonde hair was in a top knot that definitely wasn’t from today, but her smile? Brighter than I’d ever seen it.
“Hey, Brex,” I returned with a watery smile. “How you feeling?”
“A hell of a lot better than after Quinn. Second babies are a breeze, comparatively.”
“Glad to hear it.” I smiled, but my eyes snapped to Mom’s the second she loosened her hold on me, her too-knowing gaze locking onto mine. She peeled herself from our hug and cupped my shoulders.
“Come with me. I want to show you the garden.”
“She’s seen the garden, Juniper,” Rhyett said with a knowing smile.
“But she hasn’t seen the new nasturtiums,” she argued breezily, rolling her eyes in that way that reminded me exactly where I got my sass.
“She’s gotta see Nostradamus,” Rhyett muttered under his breath.
Fuck . That actually would be helpful right now . I didn’t say that though—just laughed as Mom gave him a smacking kiss on the cheek and passed me a mug of tea she’d already prepared. Before I knew it, she was swiping a blanket from the ladder and jerking her head toward the back door.
“Come along, sweet pea.”
I followed her out into the morning sun, the Florida humidity already sticking to my skin as we padded barefoot across the grass. Juniper Rhodes in her sundress with tea in hand was a full-blown Earth goddess, and she led me right into the sanctuary of her garden, settling me into one of the hanging egg chairs like I was one of her babies again.
The second she tucked the blanket around my lap, my throat threatened mutiny.
“So,” she said brightly, tucking her own legs up into the chair beside me, “what is it you need to tell me?”
“How do you do that?” I sipped my tea just to stall.
“All mothers know when their babies are carrying something too heavy.”
God, I hoped that was true. Hoped I’d be even half the mother she was. Because at this rate, I was gonna need backup.
I looked around the yard—our family’s oasis. The garden overflowing with blooms. The string lights over the movie screen my brother had built. Everything about this place screamed love. It was sacred ground.
I wanted this. Every piece of it. A partner I’d still dance with, barefoot in the grass at sixty. Kids who came home because they felt safe with us. Because we were home.
Mama let the silence stretch, unafraid of it. She’d waited out far more stubborn kids than me.
“I still say Christmas in eighty-degree weather is sacrilege.”
“And yet you’re here a day early,” she pointed out helpfully, all false innocence.
“Yep.” I nodded, my lips twitching. Okay. I could do this. Just…go for it. Right into the deep end. Three, two, one. “Mama… I’m pregnant.”
She blinked. Twice. Then her mouth fell open, tears immediately springing to her eyes.
“Oh, Leigh. No wonder you look like you’ve seen a ghost.”
“Gee, thanks , Mama.”
“Well, you do! You’re not exactly known for uncertainty, darling.”
She had me there.
“So. How far along?”
“Nine and a half weeks.”
“How are you feeling?”
“Queasy,” I admitted.
“And your heart?”
“OB says everything looks good, but I’ll see cardio after the holidays.”
“Good. That’s good.” Her smile was tender. “And your mind?”
I broke.
Lip wobbling, I didn’t even get the words out before she poured out of her chair and landed on her knees in front of mine, wrapping up my hands in hers. “Oh, honey,” she breathed as the tears poured down my cheeks.
“I’m petrified,” I whispered.
“I know, baby. But you are not alone. Pax, Alice, and Kaia will be there in Emerald Bay. And you know you always, always have a room here.”
I sniffled and nodded, throat tight.
“But Leigh? I believe in you. It was always criminal to me that they spoke that kind of finality over you. You—of all my daughters—were born to be a mother.”
I didn’t expect the images that flickered through my mind. Tillie and Beau, Ollie’s smile, his warmth curling around me in bed.
“So. The father?”
I guess that’s where I got my blunt delivery, too.
“What about him?”
“Tell me it’s that handsome Hart boy.”
“Mama!”
“ What? I saw the way he looked at you. And honey, you turned into a goddamn lioness after the accident. I thought they might have to sedate you when the nurses tried to take his daughter from your arms. That wasn’t neutrality. That was instinct. And don’t get me started on those Halloween pictures. Now that is America’s ass.”
“Mother!” I nearly dumped my tea into my lap.
“I’m old, not blind.”
“You’re not old. But you are married.”
“Happily so, might I add. But window shopping never hurt anyone. And let me tell you—your daddy may have a flat ass, but he makes up for it with?—”
“STOP.” I buried my face in my palms. “Oh, god. So not something I need to think about.” I glared at her as she snickered. Little shit. She would finish that sentence just to see me squirm. “Also, back to less horrific concepts—me loving Tillie does not equate to me loving Oliver.”
“No, but you rearranging your life to look after the three of them just might. Him being the star in every story you tell me might.”
“ Mom ,” I groaned.
She just laughed, rising to dust off her dress before spooling herself back into her swing. The chair rocked slowly in the morning breeze, like the conversation wasn’t about to gut me alive.
“Mothers know these things. I was just waiting for you to come to grips with it yourself.”
“Come to grips,” I muttered under my breath.
“What did he say? How’d he react?”
“He was amazing at first,” I admitted, trying not to melt at the memory of his arms wrapped tight around me. “Focused on me. Making sure I was okay. But after the doctor’s appointment?” I hesitated. “I dunno… he just…”
“Panicked?” she offered gently.
“Yeah. You could say that. He proposed , Mom.” I said it pointedly, like it was the punchline to a joke she hadn’t asked for.
Her lips twitched. “Oh, Ollie,” she sighed. “Sweet boy.”
“He’s thirty-two , Mom.”
“ Like I said .”
I snorted, shaking my head as I stared at the giant pink flowers climbing her fence—thick green vines crawling up and around each slat like they were holding everything together.
“I think I broke him,” I admitted quietly before walking her through the day. “He said he loved me and I couldn’t say it back. I mean, not at first.”
“And why is that? Do you not love him?”
“Isn’t this all moving awfully fast?” My eyes burned. “I wanted to say it back. So badly. But he makes my head spin. All I could think was: Dear god, things are moving too quickly . ”
“Oh, honey, that’s part of falling in love—that out-of-control feeling.” She smiled sympathetically. “I’d say the nausea is part of it too, but yours has a…different root cause.”
“ Funny .”
“I’m serious.”
“How do you do it?” I asked, voice cracking. “You’ve always been the best mom. I don’t know if I’m ready.”
“Can I let you in on a little secret?” When I nodded, she leaned closer. “Nobody’s ready.”
“What?”
“Nope.” She shook her head like it was the easiest truth in the world, then sipped her tea. “We’re all out here bullshitting our way through life.”
“ Mom ,” I chastised, half laughing, half scandalized. “You’re swearing during a soul-searching chat?”
“What? It’s true.” She nudged the silt with her toes, keeping her swing moving lazily. “So. Do you? Love him?”
I nodded, my throat thick. “But I wanted something better than a panic proposal, you know? I want the whole thing. The fireworks. A kiss he can’t wait to give me. A ring picked just for us. Not some band-aid slapped over a meltdown.”
“You always were a romantic.”
“And is that a bad thing?”
“No. Look who you’re talking to.” Her smile softened. “You don’t get married and knocked up at nineteen without being a hopeless romantic.”
“But it worked out for you and Dad.”
“It did.” Her eyes misted a little. “But the road wasn’t smooth, baby girl. You think I was ready for Jeanne? Let alone Rhyett a year later? I was twenty, married to a man who spent most of his time at sea, with two babies under one year old.”
“Jesus.”
“Is precisely what your father said when I took the second test.”
I burst out laughing, the sound cracking through my chest like sunlight.
When the humor faded, I sniffled pathetically. “How did you do it?”
“Do what—life with someone else?” When I nodded, she gave a knowing smile. “Marriage can be beautiful. And it can make you contemplate the merits of felony charges for attempted—but never completed—strangulation. Both are acceptable stages.”
“Oh my god, Mom. Be serious.”
“I am, honey. I love your daddy, but he’s not always an easy man to like. He can be stubborn as a mule. The same generosity that made me fall in love with him bites me in the ass just as quickly.”
“I don’t get it.”
“The man would donate us out of house and home if I didn’t hover over the budget. Once, we were down to twenty dollars in our account—and half that in cash—and he gave his away to a man on the street. Along with the coat off his back.”
“Sounds like Daddy,” I muttered, smiling despite myself.
“He always had this faith. That God—or the universe—would provide. And it always did,” she added like an afterthought. “Didn’t stop me from wanting to throttle him a time or two. And if you wanna talk impulsive , your father still holds the crown. You know he proposed to me with a Ring Pop?”
“Yeah,” I said with a laugh. “I just… I wanted to get married because I found that —you know? Not because we’re panicking about an unplanned baby.”
She leaned in, voice soft. “Sweetheart, it sounds like Ollie flayed his heart open and flipped it upside down. And now he doesn’t know how to sew it back together. Doesn’t sound to me like he loves you less than you deserve. Sounds like he fell too hard, too fast—and he’s terrified.”
A watery laugh slipped out. “Then why doesn’t he trust me?”
She shook her head. “I don’t think it’s you he doesn’t trust. If I had to guess—and I’ve raised six good men—I’d say he doesn’t trust himself .”
After Carly… yeah, maybe that tracked. A little. A teeny, tiny bit.
“But now I’m sitting here, drinking your weird stinky-sock tea, wondering if I’m about to raise a baby and babysit a billionaire man-child prone to emotional whiplash. How does a morning start with him begging me to be okay—and end with him proposing? And telling me to move in?”
“They usually go hand in hand.”
“Hardy-har-har. Focus , Mom.”
“I am focused, honey.”
“I always wanted to wait. To hold out for the kind of love you and Daddy have. Or Rhy and Brex. Even Jameson found Noel when no one expected it.”
“And none of those stories came tied up in a perfect little bow, did they? What love story have you ever read, or watched, or heard, where the path was an easy road? Life’s messy. So love is messy. The stories that matter are the ones where people choose each other. Over and over. Especially when it’s hard. Especially when they’re scared. They stay. ” She gave me a look I felt in my gut. “Sounds to me like you’re not the only one who’s scared.”
“He’s not the one about to grow a human, or be poked and prodded like a science experiment.”
“No. But he is the one about to watch the woman he loves risk her life and body to bring his baby into the world. You said he panicked? I think he looked at you, saw all the ways he could lose you, and jumped before he could stop himself.”
I nodded slowly. The lump in my throat made it hard to do much else.
“Only you can listen to your instincts on something this big,” she said. “But I know you’ll figure it out.”
“ How do you know?”
“Because you’ve never needed the world to make sense before charging in, Leighton.”
“I’m reckless.”
“Maybe. Or maybe you’re just brave. You’ve always known what you wanted, baby. Don’t stop now just because the stakes are higher.”
“What if I wasn’t supposed to conceive because I won’t be a good mom?” The words cracked free before I could stop them. “What if Ollie realized I was a mistake?”
Her face softened—but her voice turned steel. “Leighton Alexandra,” she said firmly. “You—and this baby—are not a mistake. I believe every baby comes exactly when they’re meant to. Jeanne gave me purpose when your dad was just a grunt on the boat. When I was alone in that terrible little apartment by the marina with no money to go anywhere. Rhyett balanced her out. Jameson made me laugh when I needed it most. And you and Kaia? You brought your siblings together. They all rallied around you.”
She squeezed my hand. “Maybe you and Ollie would’ve stayed too stubborn. Too loyal to Alice, to the family, to everyone else. Maybe this little miracle decided to give you a push toward the love story you didn’t even know you needed.”
I shifted, fidgeting with my phone before deciding against it and reaching for my tea instead.
Mama just smiled and stood, brushing her hands off on her dress.
“I’m all for letting men sweat when they put their feet in their mouths, but don’t make him suffer too long, okay? If you’re in—make sure he knows it.”
“How do I know what to say?”
“You’ll figure it out.” She winked. “And when all else fails… fight naked.”
* * *
By the time Christmas Eve arrived on Thursday, my parents’ house was full to the brim. All of my siblings—except Elora (for obvious reasons) and Jeanne—had crammed into every nook and cranny. Brex and Rhyett even put a couple of them up, so we weren’t literally spilling off the furniture. Not that that would be new to any of us. Not that any of us would mind.
To my surprise, Ollie hadn’t called since Monday, and I wasn’t sure if that should make me panicked or grateful. We’d texted a few times to check in, to say we missed each other, but the metaphorical elephant? Alive and well.
I still didn’t know what I’d say if he called.
But God, I missed him. From the moment I woke up to the second I closed my eyes, I missed him. His laugh. His smile. The way he looked at his kids. The feel of his hand in mine. All of it. And the more time I had to process his steady descent into “we should get married,” the more my mother’s words began to coat his panic in soft edges instead of sharp ones.
I woke to baby Quinn’s giggles—only now amplified by the roar of chatter that meant the Rhodes house was at full capacity.
Paxton, Jameson, Rhyett, and Axel were playing some kind of cutthroat card game at the kitchen table.
Brex and Noel—Jameson’s fiancée—were curled up on the couch with coffees, a sleeping Emma, and a dog pile of Kaia and Hadlee.
Finn and Mav were chasing Quinn around the house, their faces lit up brighter than Mom’s elaborately decorated tree.
We were just waiting for Alice and Greyson to show up in time for dinner.
My chest swelled at the contented glow of it all, and I made a beeline for my parents, who were already manning the stove.
This kitchen—quaint in design, but heavy on function—boasted double ovens and two massive islands, one of which was completely covered in pies. We did not play small in this family, and the desserts were no exception. I was pretty sure we were outnumbered four to one.
“Hey, Daddy,” I chirped, sliding in beside him for coffee.
“Morning, punky. Merry Christmas Eve!” he greeted, pressing a kiss to the top of my head.
“Merry Christmas Eve!” I echoed before sliding my arm around his waist in a squeeze. He was a little softer around the middle these days, but still Milo Rhodes through and through—firm, steady, and with that same heart-eyed grin aimed solely at Mom.
That . I wanted that .
I stepped away just in time for Mom to wrap me in her own hug, her tie-dye sundress flowing around her like water. But as soon as Dad threw the first batch of bacon on, a terrible smell hit my nose—and my stomach lurched in betrayal.
The mug slammed onto the counter, and I bolted for the trash can.
“Oh, shit,” I heard Mom mutter before she was behind me, scooping my hair out of the path of destruction the same way Ollie had a few days earlier.
I barely registered the clang of chairs or the echo of twelve collective gasps before I was upright again, wiping my mouth and grimacing at the queasiness still rolling through me.
“Jesus, Leigh,” Axel called across the kitchen. “You hungover or something?”
“No,” I groaned. “Not exactly.”
“Oh my God,” Hadlee gasped, eyes going huge. “No way!”
“Dammit,” Paxton muttered. He reached into his wallet and handed a bill to Jameson, who smirked like the smug bastard he was and tucked it into a stack of cash in front of him.
They’d made bets?!
“Seriously?!” I barked, flipping them both off. Jameson just raised his coffee in a toast.
Axel appeared with a cup of water, brows drawn. “Come on, Leigh. What’s going on?”
“I’m pregnant, okay?” I snapped, snatching the water and taking a long sip.
“What the fuck?” Axel barked just as Gimli the dog came skittering into the kitchen, nipping at his ankles.
“It’s a Christmas miracle!” Maverick declared, grinning like a lunatic. “Thy virgin Leighton hath conceived!”
Kaia and Hadlee lost it, bursting into giggles, while Finn socked Mav in the arm and muttered, “What the fuck, dude?”
But it was Paxton, Jameson, and Rhyett—crossing their arms and bearing down on me like a judgmental Greek chorus that had me bracing.
“I didn’t even know you were seeing anyone,” Rhyett said, concern thick in his voice.
“Because she hasn’t said shit about it,” Jameson pointed out, eyes narrowing. “Are you safe? Can your heart handle this?”
“Yes, I’m okay,” I said, setting a hand on my chest like it could will the queasiness away.
“Do we know this asshole?” Axel asked, cradling Gimli like a football.
“More pressing question,” Pax cut in. “Do we like this asshole?”
“Does he treat you well?”
“Why isn’t he here for Christmas?”
I held up my hands. “It’s new. And I never said he was an asshole.”
“But you’ve been hiding him,” Axel observed, his intimidation factor greatly diminished by the furry thing lapping at his face. “Which means either he’s embarrassing or a prick, so which is it?”
“Be nice, boys,” Mom warned, resting her hand on my back.
“Yeah, lay off,” Kaia added, pushing to my side.
“We just wanna make sure she’s taken care of,” Rhyett said again, softly this time.
“I’m perfectly capable of taking care of myself,” I grumbled, even as Axel looked at me like I was a puzzle missing half its pieces.
“Come on, Leigh. Who the hell is the father?”
A throat cleared behind us, and everything stopped.
There in the archway, stood Oliver Hart, in slacks and a charcoal sweater.
Fuck me, he was beautiful, my heart stuttering in agreement. God, a smile that breathtaking should be illegal. It was blinding. Even as he sheepishly waved a hand at the room packed full of inquiring Rhodes.
“ Uh … that’d be me.”