26. Chapter Twenty-Six #2
"Neither do I. But Brett's figuring it out with Paige right now. My best friend's going to be a dad, too. We'll all figure it out together."
He brings my hand to his lips. Kisses my knuckles. His eyes never leave mine.
"I need you to understand something else." His voice drops lower. Intimate. "I know you're scared. I know this is all happening fast and we haven't figured everything out yet. But I'm ready. This is—"
He stops. Searches for the right words.
"This is really fucking good. All of it. The baby. Telling my parents. Doing this with you. It's good."
His confident, wide smile, the way he says it — like he genuinely believes it, like there's not a doubt in his mind — makes that childhood wall of self-reliance and distrust crumble.
"Okay," I whisper, against my better judgment, against a lifetime of letdowns and disappointments. "We tell them today."
"Yeah?"
"Yeah." I squeeze his hands. "Thank you for telling me about Cameron. For trusting me with that."
"I trust you with everything Sarah. With the things I don’t tell anyone else. With our baby. I’d trust you with my life. Everything. You needed to know why this matters." He stands, pulling me up with him. "And Sarah? You're going to be amazing today. Just be yourself. They're going to love you."
He kisses me softly. His hands frame my face with such gentleness it makes my eyes sting.
When he pulls back, he's smiling. He’s got that full Kevin smile that makes him look like real sunshine, not just a nickname.
"Let's finish feeding these dogs so we can go tell my parents they're getting a non-furry grandkid."
The certainty in his voice is contagious.
Or maybe I'm just choosing to borrow it.
Either way, my hands have stopped shaking.
An hour later, I'm standing in Kevin's guest room, staring at the green dress hanging on the door.
I wore this last night. To our first real date. When Kevin held my hand across the table at Marie's and looked at me like I was the only person in the room. When he told me about Vegas and Vancouver and all the impossible choices ahead of us.
Today, he’s trusting me with everything.
And somehow, that progression seems logical.
So I guess in some weird way, it’s only right that I'm wearing this same green dress to tell his parents I'm pregnant.
The fabric holds yesterday's perfume. The memory of his hands on my waist at Zilker Park as he kissed me and told me he was scared too…but he wasn’t giving up on this, on us.
I slip into the dress. Zip it up. My body's already changing — my bra fits tighter, and my middle definitely feels thicker even though it's only been a handful of weeks.
There's a person growing inside me.
Kevin's person. My person.
Our tiny little perfect person.
"Sarah? You almost ready?" Kevin knocks on the door.
I open it, and Kevin’s in dark jeans and a collared shirt with a sweater over it. His slip-on shoes somehow make the whole thing look effortlessly put-together. He looks relaxed. Happy, even.
Not a trace of nerves. I wish it were that easy for me. Maybe I need to go to media training and play in front of thousands of people every night. Maybe then life would be easier for me.
"You look beautiful," he says.
"You said that last night."
"Still true today." He offers his hand. "Ready?"
I take it. Let his fingers thread through mine. Feel the calluses on his palm from stick work. The strength in his grip.
"Yeah. I think I am."
His smile could generate enough power for the entire city of Austin, maybe even all of Travis County. "That's my girl. Let's go."
Ranger hops into his crate and settles down for a nap.
"Hold down the fort, buddy," Kevin tells him. "We'll be back after we tell my parents you’re not the only grandkid anymore."
The drive to the Tavern at Barton Springs takes fifteen minutes.
Kevin's free hand stays wrapped around mine on the center console the entire time.
He's humming along to whatever's on the radio.
Drumming against the steering wheel. Looking for all the world like a man about to have just an average holiday lunch with his parents, not like a man about to drop a baby bomb.
"You're really not nervous," I say.
"Nope." He glances at me. Grins. "I told you. This is the good part, Sarah."
Kevin lifts our joined hands and kisses my knuckles without taking his eyes off the road. It steals my breath for a moment. "They'll love you. Because I love you, and they trust my judgment."
The words hang there for a second.
Then Kevin's face lights up — like he just realized what he said and decided to lean all the way into it.
"Wait, that's—" He laughs. Pulls to a stop at the red light.
"Okay. I do love you, Sarah. That came out really unromantically, but I'm not taking it back.
" He turns to look at me directly. "I love you. I do. I was trying to find the right moment and apparently my mouth decided the right moment is a few minutes before we tell my parents we’re having a baby. "
He's grinning at me like he just took off on a rush and slapped in a shorthanded goal. Unexpected. Unplanned. I’ve watched enough hockey now to know the game winner doesn't always have to come on a perfect play.
And maybe that’s what this is.
Not the perfect play, but the right one.
"So, yeah. I love you. Really love you. Not just 'you're great' or 'this is fun.' Like, actual love." He squeezes my hand. "Terrible timing. But true."
Everything in me wants to say it back. Everything in me is too scared to try.
But I squeeze his hand tighter. I can do that.
He squeezes back. Understanding. Patient. Still smiling like he just scored the game winner and he knows it. "We don’t need to get ahead of ourselves. Today we tell them about the baby. Everything else can wait."
I watch his profile as he drives. The strong line of his jaw. The way his mouth curves up slightly even when he's not actively smiling. The total absence of anxiety in his shoulders.
He meant what he said at the rescue.
He really is ready.
And maybe — just maybe — I can borrow some of that readiness until I find my own.
When we pull into the parking lot, Kevin comes around to open my door before I can even unbuckle. Takes my hand. Tucks me against his side as we walk toward the entrance.
His hand settles on my lower back. Warm. Steady. Possessive in the best way.
"I've got you," he murmurs against my temple, making me believe in everything he’s told me today. "Just follow my lead."