Chapter 25
Daisy
“Surprise!”
My smile evaporated into a blank stare and gaping mouth.
The congratulations banner framed with pink balloons shaped like flowers, blow-up rattles, and Max’s entire family packed into his aunt’s living room with huge smiles on their faces—and all wearing pink—could only mean one thing, and yet I struggled to believe it.
“Happy baby shower day!” Harper squealed, the first to break ranks and wrap me in a big hug.
Then it was Ailene, Lou, Violet, Gigi, Frankie, and Aurora. Even when I saw the diaper cake in the center of the kitchen island and the mountain of presents in the living room, I kept blinking, expecting it all to disappear.
Was this for real?
“Max…” I angled toward him, searching for…I wasn’t even sure.
“Surprise,” he husked and pressed a kiss to my forehead, his fingers drawing delicious circles on my lower back like an intentional reminder of how they’d been stroking my front just a few minutes ago.
“How…”
His eyes slid to his cousins, and Lou was the first to confess. No surprise there. “I had a few things I bought for you and the baby. I wanted to bring them over, but Max said no visitors.”
Frankie snorted and then grinned. “Surprised that baby’s still in there after a week of going at it.”
My cheeks turned fire-hydrant red, and I watched Lou elbow her twin while Harper jumped in and said, “Lou told me about it, and it made me think about a baby shower. I figured with…everything going on, you didn’t have anything planned. So I asked Max if we could throw you a surprise shower.”
I nodded, my throat too tight to speak as tears welled behind my eyes.
A surprise baby shower.
“You didn’t ask,” Max corrected, folding his arms. “You informed me there was going to be a surprise baby shower and that I either agreed to produce Daisy or you’d call for a welfare check.”
A laugh erupted from my chest and broke through my stupor of surprise. That sounded more like his sister—his family. And now, it felt like mine.
“And you were the one who said it should be garden themed,” Harper countered.
I couldn’t even look at Max right now, my eyes burning with unshed tears.
Six weeks ago, my idea of family was making sure I was married to the man who’d fathered my baby.
And when Todd left, I’d thought it was only proof that my mom had been right all along—that the only person I could count on was myself.
And now…now, I hardly recognized that woman. Literally and figuratively.
Max pressed his hand to my back, drawing me closer to him like he could see straight through me, right to my overwhelmed and emotional core.
“Glad to see I’ve rubbed off on you, Harp.” Frankie linked her arm with Harper’s and smiled. Reaching for my arm, Frankie pulled me away from Max, saying, “You have to see the diaper cake Aurora made. Oh, and the food. Mom and Gigi made a blueberry cake.”
My stomach growled.
“Max, do you want food?”
It wasn’t until Frankie slowed that I realized Max was no longer next to me. Glancing over my shoulder, I saw he stood where we’d left him, and even though he was already in a conversation with Jamie, he was watching me with that look of possessiveness that made my blood heat.
“I’m fine for right now,” he said, catching my eyes. “I had a snack before we got here.”
If Frankie heard my mortified little squeak, she didn’t let on, too engrossed with getting me into the kitchen to see the spread of food.
Meanwhile, my wicked husband had the gall to lift his left hand and run his fingers discreetly under his nose, solidifying the naughty flutter in my stomach with a wink.
“So have you given any thought to a name?” Aurora asked, bouncing her son, Jack, on her hip.
“Don’t ask Aurora for suggestions. Kit said you told him you wanted to name Jack Nutterbutter Butterfinger,” Frankie teased.
“No, I told him I had a dream that we named the baby Bushybacked nudibranch,” Aurora corrected, appearing more offended that her sister-in-law had gotten the Latin taxonomy wrong than that she actually believed Aurora wanted to name their baby that.
My eyes widened as I took a huge bite of the blueberry cake. Grinning, Aurora explained, “It was one of the species I was studying at the Friendship lighthouse when I met Kit, and it just happened to make it into a dream. I wasn’t serious about it.”
Kit walked by right then with a poignant harrumph, and everyone laughed. Aurora turned and playfully stuck her tongue out at her husband, even though her gaze held nothing but adoration. And so did his.
My chest squeezed. Now, I recognized the look so clearly, and it seemed almost impossible that I hadn’t realized it was how Max had looked at me all these years.
“I haven’t given thought to a name, to be honest,” I admitted, which felt a little crazy since I had just over a month until my due date, but I knew why I hadn’t.
I felt like I’d been living in a tornado since Todd disappeared, unsure which way was up or down, right or wrong. I hadn’t felt safe or settled until very, very recently. Max was the eye of the storm. The safest, surest place to be, but that didn’t mean we still weren’t surrounded by uncertainty.
We’d done a lot of things over the last week—talked about a lot of things.
But we hadn’t talked about more than this moment.
It was like we were drowning in four years of fantasies now able to come true, and we didn’t want to come up for air.
But we had to. At some point, and soon, we had to talk about what came next.
We were already married. Would we just stay married?
Already living in Max’s house. But he wanted to sell it, so would we move?
Before the baby? After? It was as though life had given up on waiting for fate to bring us together and finally forced her hand, leaving us to scramble to figure out the details.
“Well, you could always go with Blueberry if nothing else strikes your fancy,” Harper teased as I was in the middle of stuffing another forkful of blueberry cake into my mouth.
“That might be the winner.” I covered my mouth as I spoke. “Baby Blueberry.”
“What do you think, Max?”
My skin prickled when he appeared at my side, his hand coming to rest on my lower back and resuming its slow circle there. “Think about what?”
“Baby Blueberry.”
His roaming fingers stilled, and the adorable look of confusion on his face made my ovaries go wild. How many times would I wish that I had been with Max that night?
“I don’t understand.”
“We’re talking about baby names, and the current lead is Baby Blueberry,” Harper filled him in, plucking a blueberry from off the top of the cake and tossing it in her mouth. “What do you think?”
Max slid his head to me, but I lifted my gaze hesitantly to his, suddenly bombarded with the memory of the first time I’d treaded through this conversation.
“Maybe Rose. Or Iris. Fits with Daisy, you know?” That had been Todd’s response when his mother had asked about names during our very first conversation with her after Todd told her I was pregnant. “I think Hyacinth would be lovely,” was Mrs. McCormick’s non-suggestion.
Maybe I hadn’t thought about baby names because for six months, I’d resigned myself to the idea that it wouldn’t be my choice. If Mary McCormick wanted Hyacinth, that was what she would get.
Meanwhile, I loved my name, but I didn’t have any strong desire to name my daughter after a flower.
“Hmm.” Max’s chest rumbled, but when I looked up at him, I could tell he wasn’t thinking. At least, not about a baby name. He was holding himself back, like it was overstepping for him to suggest a name for another man’s baby. Or maybe he just didn’t want to help.
“You don’t have to—”
“Lucy,” he cut me off firmly, quashing what I was going to say. “I think her name should be Lucy.”
My eyes rounded, all the oxygen suddenly vacating the room.
Lucy was one of the heroines in The Chronicles of Narnia. Brave. Sensitive. Faithful. Valiant. And he picked it because he knew it was my favorite. Because he knew it meant something to me.
“I like that,” I said, my voice catching as a foot landed squarely in my ribs. Again and again. Apparently, little sprout liked it too.
“Where did you get Lucy from?” Harper sounded like she was at the other end of the tunnel.
“From my brain,” Max teased wryly, keeping the weight of his suggestion between us.
Harper rolled her eyes. “Okay.”
“Don’t be jealous because my suggestion was better than yours.”
“There’s nothing wrong with the name Blueberry—”
He growled. “We’re not naming our baby Blueberry.”
Forget oxygen, gravity itself seemed to turn off for a second, and my body simply floated on the intentional slip of his tongue.
Our baby. Our. Baby. He’d said he’d take care of me and the baby, that he wanted me and the baby.
His insistence only solidified by the secret I’d kept about that night.
But he’d never said it out loud to anyone but me.
Now, his whole family heard him, and they heard the significance just as much as I did.
Little sprout wasn’t even here yet, and Max thought of her as his.
His Lucy. And, god, if I didn’t want to think of her that way too.
Imagining Max as a lover…as a husband…was one thing.
As a father? Well, it was a good thing I was sitting because that was the kind of fantasy that would send my hormones into crippling capacity.
I stared at Max. Harper stared at Max. I was pretty sure everyone was staring at Max, but the only thing that mattered was how he was looking at me—like he meant every syllable and had no plans to take it back.
“Hey, Max, we’re ready whenever you are,” Jamie came over then, his interruption shattering the moment. Jamie’s brow creased, realizing he’d walked into…something, but I caught Frankie quickly jerk her head to stop him from asking. “We’ll be outside.”
“Yeah, I’ll be right there,” Max answered without looking at him.
Jamie, followed by Kit, headed for the door. When they were a few paces away, Max explained, “Sorry, Jamie just asked if I could help them move a piece from his shop into his truck. I’ll be right back.”
I smiled, my eyes fluttering when he pressed a kiss to the side of my head. As soon as he was gone, Harper declared, “We should do presents next. Frankie and Lou, can you get everything ready for Daisy?”
“Yeah, I’ll line everything up.”
“Let me organize them first,” Lou chided, hurrying in front of her laughing twin to reach the living room first.
“Let’s clean up the food quick, Vi.” Aurora nudged her sister-in-law into the dining room to clean up the brunch spread that was sufficiently picked through.
“You okay?” Harper asked a little quieter once it was just the two of us.
I nodded, my throat too thick to speak through all the thoughts swimming in my head.
Our baby.
My lashes brushed quickly over my cheeks, the hold on my throat even tighter. It was always him I wanted to say, but that was what I was afraid of.
Max was giving me everything—so why was I so afraid to take it?
“Finish your cake,” Harper instructed when it was clear I wasn’t going to be able to respond. “We’ll wait for Jamie, Max, and Kit to get back and then start presents.”
The warmth of her embrace hadn’t even started to cool before a smaller figure saddled up next to me and hung her cane on the back of the neighboring counter stool.
“You look happy, dear,” Gigi said as she cut an impressive piece of cake and slid it onto her plate. “Glowing and happy.”
I was.
I was so happy it was frightening—and how could I not be scared? I’d never let my happiness be so dependent on another person before, and now, I felt like I was waiting for the other shoe to drop.
“Thank you.” I smiled at her, hoping she couldn’t see the knot of emotions tying themselves up in my chest.
My hopes fizzled as her stare pierced straight through me, surprisingly sharp considering how googly her thick lenses made her eyes appear. “Did you try your jam?”
Relief swept through me. “Yes, it was delicious. Thank you so much,” I said, grateful that I’d found the jar in my bag earlier this week, having completely forgotten Gigi stashed it there the last time we were here.
“Did you read the label?”
My chewing faltered. I had read the label…and it didn’t make any sense. I mean, it did, and it didn’t.
Peony.
I swallowed, scrambling to answer her without sounding confused or rude. “I did.” My head bobbed, and I licked my lips into a smile, adding, “Peonies are my favorite.”
I assumed she knew, and that was why the blueberry jam came with a label that had peony written on it—why Gigi had told me that jar was made just for me.
I convinced myself it was relief, not disappointment, I felt when I read the word.
I thought it would have something to do with Max.
I mean, I guess it did. His business was flowers, but still, why peony instead of just flowers?
“Of course, they are, dear.” Gigi’s smile broadened. “The king of flowers.”
I froze. “Excuse me?”
“Peonies. They’re known as the king of flowers.”
My heart tripped.
I’d convinced myself the word meant nothing when it really stood for everything. For him. Max knew every flower, every bloom. The way they looked together. How their scents complemented each other. I didn’t just love peonies. I loved the king of flowers.
I loved Max.
“Perfect timing,” Harper exclaimed, coming back to the kitchen just as Max and his cousins returned. “We’re ready to open presents!”