Chapter 24
Over the next two weeks, my baby bump pops.
Thankfully, I’m on extended leave. Otherwise, work would be difficult since Hunter and I still haven’t told anyone besides Dove, Wrenley, and Hunter’s parents.
Now that it’s impossible to hide baby bean, we’ve been debating how exactly to tell people who know us that we’re having a baby.
Surprise! All that “will they/won’t they?” tension culminated in another living being, and now we’re basically all in together.
Telling his parents was hard enough. I stressed myself out thinking his mother hated me to the point that I made myself sick. Turns out, Carla was just relieved to hear that “I finally got my shit together.”
Needless to say, I think we’re going to get along just fine. We’ve met before, but it was always in passing, so spending Thanksgiving at their farm upstate will be… insightful, as to how the rest of my life is going to go.
Tonight, however, is about celebrating Dove and Wrenley’s engagement and—if Hunter has anything to say about it—telling Alex and Vixey, who is apparently now part of our little group, much to my chagrin.
I’m not sure when exactly that happened, but I guess me spending less time at the bar resulted in her and Dove spending more time together.
“It’s so pretty!” The tall blonde squeals, gawking at Dove’s ring for the umpteenth time since we arrived at The Tipsy Taco five minutes ago.
“I’m still pissed he didn’t bother having any of us there,” I grumble. I’ve had a while to sit with the news and process that Wrenley didn’t include us.
His reply when I brought it up the first moment I could get him alone was, “Should I be upset that you and Hunter didn’t invite us to join when you made a baby?”
Touché, California Dreamin’.
Not that I’m trying to make it about me, but Wrenley could have at least asked me to hide and record the whole thing. I wanted to be there when Dove saw her new pink sparkly.
“But he put the ring on Fang’s collar, and how cute is that?” Vixey coos like she’s talking to a baby. Her tone has my face tightening in disgust.
Hunter has been working overtime with that bleach-blonde bimbo, Gwendolyn, so I’m particularly moody tonight.
It’s starting to grate on my nerves how much time they’re spending together, to the point where I’m ready to walk into the department—big belly and all—and plant one right on Hunter to publicly claim him as mine.
Alex preemptively sets a round of tequila shots in front of us, breaking me from my reverie. “Vixey, why don’t you take the rest of the night off and celebrate with the girls?”
“Can she?” Dove squeals, which only further exacerbates my bad mood. “I’ve been wanting to go dancing. We should have a girls’ night!”
She spins toward me and visibly flinches when she sees my face. Erasing all irritability as quickly as I can, I flash her a tight smile, not wanting to ruin her mood. “Sure thing. Whatever you want, Love Dove.”
My best friend looks between me, the shots, Alex, and back again. “Bunny has news, too.”
A devilish smirk stretches her rosy lips as Alex and Vixey turn to look at me, but before I can say anything, Hunter and Wrenley appear behind us.
The crib Hunter ordered arrived early, and Wrenley went to help him get it upstairs to the nursery, which is why we arrived separately.
If Dove gets her way, we might not be leaving together tonight, either.
Girls’ night used to end with pizza and a bottle of tequila at one of our houses, but now that I can’t drink, I can only imagine she and Vixey getting crazy while I’m forced to babysit.
“Whoa there, Little Rabbit. That better be water in that shot glass.” Hunter reaches around me, picks one up, and sniffs it before frowning. “Do I need to be worried about something?”
“Ew. Just because you’re, like, dating now or something doesn’t mean you get to control her,” Vixey snaps.
I like her a little bit more for her defensive outburst.
“Settle down, Vix,” Hunter cajoles.
I like her a little less now that his nickname for her has apparently stuck.
He checks his watch as Alex congratulates Wrenley, trying to diffuse the situation.
“You haven’t told them our news?” Hunter looks momentarily offended before I nod toward Dove. “Oh, I get it. You wanted to let Dove shine.” He nudges her with his elbow. “Well, doll. You had your moment. I kind of want to be a bastard and steal some of the spotlight.”
“Oh, please, it’s our moment. You know I’m not one of those girls. Tonight is about you two as much as it’s about us.” Dove leans back into Wrenley, who puts a protective arm around her while looking at Hunter like he wants to shove one of Dove’s daggers between his eyes.
Hunter and Wrenley may be best friends, but Wrenley is still holding a grudge for that kiss, and I don’t blame him in the slightest.
“What are we missing here?” Alex asks, leaning his elbows on the bar top as he peers between us all.
“Oh my god, are you pregnant?” Vixey blurts. Both she and Alex drop their gazes to my stomach. It’s hidden beneath the lip of the bar, and even then, I wore a trench tonight to hide my bump until we told them.
Hunter points at her. “Ding, ding, ding! What gave it away? My comment about the tequila? See, Vix, I’m not an overbearing asshole.” He wraps an arm around my waist and squeezes as if to drive that comment home.
“Wow,” Alex muses. “That went from zero to sixty real fast.”
“We figured it was time to tell you. After all, we did make the baby in the women’s bathroom.” Hunter reaches for the shot, lifting it to his lips. “Points for cleanliness in there.”
“Are you serious?” Alex deadpans.
“Congratulations,” Vixey offers, looking at me timidly. “Do you know what you’re having yet?”
She’s tiptoeing the line of getting too personal, and she knows it, but I decide to oblige her. If Dove is already friends with her, I’m going to have no choice but to accept the honey-blonde ditz.
With a sigh, I shrug out of my coat, prepared to settle in. Hunter and Wrenley shift over and take the seats next to us, leaving us girls to chat on our own.
“We’re not telling.”
“Is this because Wrenley didn’t include you in the proposal?” Dove flashes me a good-natured look of annoyance. “You better tell me the gender of that baby, Buns. I’m the godmother—I get to know these things.”
“Sorry. My lips are sealed. Hunter said not to tell.”
If I’m being honest, we don’t even know yet.
Even though I’m cooking a literal human inside me, there’s something so surreal about the whole thing—it’s like my motherly instincts haven’t really kicked in yet.
There’s a connection there, but I haven’t nurtured it the way some expecting mothers do as soon as they know they’re pregnant.
A part of me is still waiting for something to happen.
To wake up one morning and realize it was all a dream, or find that I’m losing the baby.
It’s been hard for me to allow myself to get attached.
“Oh, and you listen to everything Hunter says?” Dove snaps sardonically.
“Only in the bedroom,” I reply with a saccharine tone. “Sort of like you and your songbird, wouldn’t you agree?” Silently, I mouth dick-whipped.
“You’re one to talk! Hunter poisons you with his peter, and all of a sudden he’s completely in charge of your pickled peppers!”
“What?”
She blinks, then shakes her head and tosses back a shot. “I don’t even know. It just came out.”
We erupt into giggles before Vixey’s wistful voice cuts in, “You guys are so cool.”
I don’t think she meant to say it out loud. Her cheeks flare red as she stands. “I should get back to work.”
“I thought Alex said you could have the night off?” I ask. She stops and looks at me like she’s not sure she heard me correctly. “Didn’t you and Dove say you wanted to go dancing?”
Taking the small olive branch I’m offering, she beams. “Really?”
Fuck, am I really that horrible?
Suddenly, I’m overcome with emotion. I don’t want to be one of those females who goes out of their way to make another woman feel like shit. Not unless they’re trying to go after my man—looking at you, Gwendolyn. The least I can do is try, I guess.
“Of course, really! Let’s do this! Girls’ night!” Dove chimes in.
“I know a place we can go,” Vixey proposes, still watching me for a sign I’m not being genuine.
“I’m going to need to go home and change. I don’t want to go out in this.” Dove gestures to her hot-pink skirt suit. “I had an interview with Tripp Kennedy today. Nice guy. Much nicer than Jackson Tailor.”
I swear Wrenley visibly shudders on the other side of her at the mention of the billionaire’s name.
“Why don’t I give you both the address, and we can just meet there in a little while? I’ll go home and get ready, too,” Vixey suggests.
“Where are you ladies going?” Hunter interrupts, leaning around Wrenley.
“To this nightclub in the East Village. It’s safe, I promise,” Vixey replies with a roll of her eyes.
Sometimes I wonder if she flips him sass to get on my good side.
The more I watch them interact, the more I get a big-brother/little-sister vibe.
For some reason, that puts me a little more at ease about the woman who’s moved her way into my circle.
Hunter flashes me a look that very much says he doesn’t want me to go, but also doesn’t want to be controlling. He’s been so careful not to act like Nathaniel. Still, it’s been hard navigating boundaries without my ugly past rearing its head at least once a day.
“It’s fine, Hunter. We’ll take good care of your girl.” Dove picks up on the tension, leans over, and pokes his cheek. She snaps back quickly, shaking her hand as if touching him burned her. “Jesus, who has jaw muscles that firm? What the hell do you do to—”
She trails off as he swings a devilish grin her way.
“Oh yeah, you’re a world-class Bunny kitty eater. I forgot.” She pokes her fiancé’s cheek. “Why aren’t yours that firm?”