Chapter 20
I sat at a corner table, nursing my hot chocolate and nibbling on a fresh bear claw when Jazz finally returned. Even from the slight distance, I could tell her cheeks were flushed and there was a sparkle in her eyes.
She saw me and waved before getting back behind the counter. Brielle said something to her that caused Jazz to nod. Jazz made two drinks at the espresso machine while Brielle ducked into the back, returning a few moments later with a young woman who took up residence at the register.
Jazz handed Brielle a cup and then the two of them walked toward me.
“Mind if we join you?” Brielle asked.
“Not at all. I’m dying to know what happened between you and Homer,” I said with a laugh.
“And I’m dying to know why Homer brought you here and gave you the day off,” Brielle said.
I sighed. “Jazz first. Then I’ll spill.”
“He told me I wasn’t going on a date tonight and that I needed to cancel,” Jazz said with an arrogant grin.
“And you punched him in his face, right?” Brielle asked.
“Nope. I said I’d cancel.” Jazz took a small sip of her drink. “But I’m not going to.” She looked at Brielle. “By the way, I know you were the one who told him I was going on a date in the first place.”
“Just trying to move this relationship along. You’ve been really tightly wound, you know. So the sooner you and Homer get together, the happier we’ll all be. Plus, my parents are dying for grandbabies.”
“I’m not ready for babies,” Jazz said, but then she immediately contradicted what she said because her eyes went glassy with longing. “Mhmm. Homer babies . . .”
I lifted my hot chocolate to my lips to hide my smile.
“Your turn,” Brielle said to me.
“I’m guessing your brothers didn’t tell you. . .”
“Tell me what?” she asked.
“I’m pregnant,” I said.
They sat in stunned silence.
“And before you ask, no it’s not Savage’s. The father is my deceased husband. Savage is my . . . boyfriend, and he’s made it clear that he’s sticking around. Oh, and I found out today at the clinic that I’m actually having twins.”
“That’s a lot of information all at once.” Brielle cleared her throat. “So you had a husband . . .”
“Yeah.”
When it was clear I wasn’t going to elaborate, Brielle raised her brows and said, “So, er—congratulations?”
Jazz scratched her cheek. “Yeah, should we be happy for you or . . .”
I paused. “Happy. Mostly happy. There’s a lot of terrified in there too, but definitely happy.”
“I don’t know what’s crazier. The twin thing or the Savage being your boyfriend thing,” Jazz murmured.
I knew how important it was for Savage to tell Willa and Duke first that I was his Old Lady, so I didn’t divulge that now. But it would’ve explained why Savage was willing to raise the babies as his own.
“Yeah, this week has kind of been a whirlwind.” I shook my head. “That’s why Homer drove me here and gave me the day off. He came into work, and I was crying behind the counter. He saw the sonogram and?—”
“You have a sonogram?” Jazz asked.
I nodded.
“Can I see it?”
“Sure.” I opened the folder on the table and handed it to her.
She stared at it. “Oh, wow. Yeah. Twins.”
“Twins,” I repeated. “I was freaked out and crying and he drove me here and gave me the day off. He did it while growling and grumbling, but he’s just a big teddy bear. He did not like being called that, FYI. And I wasn’t supposed to tell anyone, but it’s true.”
“I know it’s true,” Jazz said forlornly. “That’s why I’ve been in love with him since high school. Something about him just calls to me. I can’t help it.”
Brielle chimed in, “I felt like such an idiot when I realized you guys had feelings for each other. Guess I can’t put detective skills on my resume.”
“I hid it from you for years,” Jazz said. “Though in the last few months, I don’t know . . . I just couldn’t hide it anymore. I decided to rip the Band-Aid off. Either he wants to be with me, or I’m moving on. Enough unrequited pining.”
“It’s requited,” Brielle said. “But I still don’t know why he won’t date you.”
“Because it won’t just be dating,” I said. I looked at Jazz. “Right? This is a mate-for-life situation, isn’t it?”
Her shoulders slumped and she nodded. “I’ve imprinted on the grumpy bastard. But I really don’t want to talk about it anymore. Let’s talk about you. When did you find out that you were pregnant?”
“I took a home pregnancy test a few days ago. Actually, the day that you guys brought us lunch, Homer’s client said something about how every time she throws up, her first worry is that she’s pregnant. It got me thinking . . . and yeah, here we are.”
“Homer’s client?” Jazz repeated. “The hussy who threw herself at him?”
“That would be the one. Don’t worry, he didn’t throw himself back.” I patted her hand. “Savage took me to the wellness clinic this morning for my appointment.”
“You met Doc, didn’t you?” Brielle asked.
I raised my brows. “You know Doc?”
“We know Doc.” Jazz smiled. “The Tarnished Angels back the clinic.”
“I didn’t know that about the club,” I murmured. “I knew they did the halfway house for women, but didn’t know that about the clinic. But Savage told me about Doc.”
Jazz looked at Brielle and then back to me.
“Don’t do that,” I muttered.
“Do what?” Jazz demanded.
“Have a conversation without me. What aren’t you telling me?” I asked.
“You tell her,” Brielle said.
Jazz sighed. “You know that whole mate-for-life thing? Well, the Tarnished Angels are like that.”
“What do you mean?” I inquired.
Brielle replied, “The guys in the club know instantly if they want to be with someone forever.”
“Old Ladies, you mean, right?” I asked.
“Yeah, Old Ladies.” Jazz nodded.
I nibbled my lip. I needed to talk about it with someone; I just hoped they could keep a secret.
“Savage asked me to be his Old Lady,” I said slowly. “He—ah—hasn’t talked about it with the club yet because he wants me to meet Willa and Duke first.”
“My head is spinning with all of your news,” Jazz said.
“Tell me about it,” I said with a laugh.
“You’ll love Willa,” Jazz said.
“She’s one of our best friends,” Brielle added.
“So how are you feeling about all this?” Jazz asked.
“I’m happy about Savage. I’m even happy about the baby . . . babies. I didn’t think I’d be able—anyway. I’m happy, but I’m overwhelmed too.”
“What are you doing the rest of the day?” Jazz asked, changing the subject.
I shook my head. “Nothing. I could text Savage and ask him to come pick me up, but I’m not ready to go home.”
“I’ve got to get back to work and start the bread for tomorrow,” Jazz said. “You want to help?”
I smiled. “I’d love to.”
I was in the middle of shaping bread dough when the back door of the kitchen opened and a brunette with a baby strapped to her chest strode inside.
She blinked. “Hi.”
“Hello,” I greeted.
“Uh, no offense, but who are you?”
“No offense taken,” I said with a laugh. “I’m Evie. I?—”
“Oh, you’re Evie.” A smile stretched across the woman’s face.
“You’ve heard of me?”
“Brielle and Jazz might have said something about you.”
I pointed at her. “You’re Brooklyn.”
“Yes.” She smacked her forehead. “Sorry. I forgot to introduce myself, didn’t I? New mom brain and everything. I thought the pregnancy brain was bad. Mom brain is like a million times worse.”
Something to look forward to .
“Well, it’s nice to meet you,” I said. “Jazz left to get ready for her date and Brielle ran out to deliver the Reynolds wedding cake.”
“I see,” Brooklyn said, running a hand down the sleeping baby’s back. “That still doesn’t explain why you’re back here baking. Aren’t you the new receptionist at Three Kings?”
“Yeah, I am. Homer gave me the day off,” I explained. “He dropped me here. And I wasn’t ready to go home, so Brielle and Jazz kinda . . .”
“Took you under their wings.” Brooklyn smiled.
“Something like that.”
“You hungry?”
I shook my head. “No, I ate already.”
Brooklyn nodded toward the cooling bread on the wire racks. “You made these?”
I nodded.
“Jazz never makes loaves with such ornate scoring.”
I paused. “I have some experience baking bread. I kind of like bread as an art form.”
She smiled. “Well, they’re gorgeous.”
“Thank you.” My gaze dipped to the baby at her chest. “How old?”
“Few months. This is Palmer.”
My heart swam in mush. “She’s beautiful.”
Brooklyn beamed. “She is. But I’m biased.”
The young woman who was watching the register popped into the back. “Oh, hey, Brooklyn. I didn’t hear you come in.”
“Hey, Kendall. I just got here,” Brooklyn replied.
“Evie, Savage is up front,” Kendall said.
I frowned. “He’s here?”
Kendall nodded.
“But I didn’t text him. How did he know I was here?” I asked.
“No idea,” Kendall said.
“Oh, well, I’m not done yet. I have to get this loaf into the oven?—”
“I’ll take care of it,” Brooklyn said. “I just need to make myself a coffee first.”
“I’ll make it for you,” Kendall offered.
“Thanks,” Brooklyn said with a smirk, “but I want to see Evie and Savage in action.”
I raised my brows at her.
“Oh, yeah. In case you didn’t know, you’re kind of famous around here.” She winked.
“What exactly did Brielle and Jazz say about us?” I demanded.
She mimed locking her lips closed, but then grinned. Brooklyn strode out of the kitchen to the front and greeted Savage. With a deep exhale, I followed.
Savage was smiling and nodding, his gaze straying to the baby at Brooklyn’s chest every now and again.
But the moment he saw me, he focused his attention completely on me.
“Hey,” he greeted.
“Hi. How did you know I was here?”
“Homer.”
I bit my lip. “Oh.”
“She’s been in the back baking bread for the last several hours,” Brooklyn explained. “Jazz showed her the ropes.”
“You ready?” Savage asked.
I nodded. “Bye, Brooklyn. Kendall.”
“See ya later,” Brooklyn said with a smile.
I grabbed my purse and folder from the small office and then followed Savage out of the bakery.
“Why didn’t you text me that Homer had given you the day off? I would’ve come and picked you up.”
“I assumed you had stuff to do,” I said. “Plus, I wasn’t ready to go home.”
“Homer said you were crying.”
“Yes.”
Savage unlocked the SUV and pulled open the passenger door for me. “Why?”
“Why do you think?”
He closed the door and went around to the driver’s side and climbed in. “Overwhelmed, huh?”
“Yep.”
“You didn’t want to go home and be alone.”
“No, I didn’t,” I admitted. “I just needed to zone out for a bit, you know?”
“I know.”
“How do you quiet your mind when it starts to run wild?” I asked.
He rubbed his jaw, the raspy sound of his scruff loud in the otherwise silent car. “Ride my motorcycle for long stretches of time. That’s what I was doing for the last several hours actually.”
I swallowed the lump in my throat. “You regret your decision, don’t you?”
“Evie,” he said quietly. “You gotta stop thinking I’m going to bail. I’m not bailing. I just had—it was a lot to digest. That’s all.”
“I told Jazz and Brielle I was your Old Lady. I hope they don’t blab.”
He grinned. “They probably will.”
I groaned. “Sorry. I need to confide in people and talk about everything from this past week. I get what you mean by it being a lot. Life is happening so fast and I’m reeling.”
“So, let’s take control back,” he said.
I frowned. “Control. Okay. But how?”