by Piper Rayne
“I would if you did it here.”
I pull the tie a little and she shoots me her sternest look, but it’s sweet compared to how she used to look at me before we got together. “Model for me?”
She pulls away from me. “I told you, no. I’m bloated and have gained so much weight because I eat the entire grocery store aisle of potato chips daily. She couldn’t have cravings for sweets, it had to be salty.”
I laugh because I just bought five bags of salt and vinegar chips at the store. Savannah will be done with them by week’s end.
“Maybe she’s a little like her mom—salty.” I shrug.
“I hope she’s a little sweet like her daddy too.”
“Dinner?” I ask.
“Yeah, I need some grease and salt. Force me to have carrots tomorrow, okay?” She opens the door to the conference room.
“Sure,” I say, following her.
Walking to her office, we run into Grandma Dori again, where she’s bent over Savannah’s new assistant’s desk with a fist full of money.
“No, no. I have Brooklyn first, Savannah, and then Holly. Brooklyn is in such a sour mood lately, she needs to get that baby out of her.”
“Grandma?” Savannah asks as though she has no idea what her grandma is doing.
I laugh behind her and that sweet Savannah from the conference room disappears. She glares at me over her shoulder.
“Are you betting on when we’ll all deliver?”
Grandma Dori looks over her granddaughter’s shoulder to me and smiles. “That I am.” She turns back to Dedra. “You got that, right?”
Dedra bites her lip, looking at Savannah.
We all wait for the explosion. Each of us but Grandma Dori—she doesn’t care.
Then Savannah holds her hand out toward me. “I’m definitely delivering first. I say me, Brooklyn, then Holly.”
There’s the competitive wife I know and love.
I pass her some money from my wallet.
“We’ve got one thing in common. Holly is last,” Grandma Dori says.
Dedra smiles, her relief obvious. “Would you like to bet on times or days or pounds?”
Savannah sits down. “Seriously? Does no one work around here?” She surprises us all when she puts her hand out for more money and bets that our little girl’s birth weight will be precisely seven pounds three ounces.
I help her stand afterward and she waddles into her office. Don’t get me wrong, I love it. Her waddle is cute.
Dori leans in close. “See? Get her pregnant again right away. She’s a delight.”
I shake my head. “I’ll do what I can.”
Of course our sex life hasn’t been affected at all. If anything, she’s horny all the time, I was exhausted during her second trimester.
“Let’s go.” Savannah comes out of her office with her coat in her hands and purse hanging off her shoulder. No computer or work to bring home. These are the good nights.
I take her coat because she’ll never wear it even though spring is late to come this year, and we head to dinner.
After Savannah eats a greasy burger, fries, and onion rings at Lard Have Mercy, we drive home. My sweet ride comes into view when I pull in, though it’s covered by a cloth tarp.
Sav climbs out of my new truck with help from me holding her arm as she steps onto the running board I installed after I purchased it. I love my car, but the seat belts in the back weren’t safe enough for a baby. It’s stored away for date nights and when our daughter is old enough.
She points at the empty car seat boxes by the trash can. “You already installed them?”
“In your car and the truck,” I say.
She laughs as we walk into the house. “I didn’t even notice when I got in. From what I hear, Austin had a horrible time with theirs.”
“Why didn’t he call me?” I unlock the door, but she takes my hand, leading me around the side of the house.
“Every man wants to install his own baby car seat.”
She’s right. I wouldn’t allow anyone else to do that job. Her hand grows tighter around mine and I shiver from the cool breeze. Meanwhile, she walks around with only her wrap dress on as though it’s eighty degrees out.
We get to the barn and she leans against the wood siding, waiting for me to get my keys out.
“What are we doing out here?” I ask.
She pushes off the wood and puts her arms around me, kissing my jaw. “I want you to paint me. But be flattering. Don’t go making it super realistic with my cankles and big butt.”
I open up the barn and lead her in before shutting the door and locking it back up. “I wish you saw yourself through my eyes. You’re the most incredibly sexy woman.” I kiss her neck, my fingers fiddling with the tie of her dress.
“You have to say that. It’s your baby I’m growing inside me.”
“Nah, do you think I’d want to paint you if you were hideous?” I chuckle.
She smacks my shoulder and I chuckle in her ear, my tongue sliding around her earlobe as I unbutton the flap of the dress and it falls open, bearing her naked stomach to me.
I fall to my knees, cradle her belly in my hands, and press a light kiss to it. “You’re beautiful.”
Her smile says she believes me. I unhook her bra, letting it fall between us. After leading her to the couch, I strip off my shirt and get the canvas ready.
“How long will this take?” she asks.
“An hour maybe.” I set up my paintbrushes. “Why?”
“Because staring at you with your shirt off and that fresh tattoo of my name on your skin is making me want to do something else on this couch.” Her tongue slides out to wet her lip.
I drop the paintbrush and head over to my wife.
I can paint her tomorrow. After all, a happy wife means a happy life.
Four
Unknown Female
I sit on the floor of my bathroom and tell Siri to set the timer for three minutes. Gnawing at my fingers, I try to block out all the negatives and only think of the positives. Is there ever really a perfect time to have a baby? No.
The fact that I’ve locked myself in my bathroom instead of involving him says I’m not sure how he’ll handle the news. I mean, he can’t be surprised if I am pregnant, right? If you have unprotected sex, there’s obviously a chance this could happen.
My hand falls to my stomach as I wonder if—and slightly hope—there’s a little one in there, regardless of what anyone outside this bathroom thinks.
The buzzer on my phone goes off. I inhale a deep breath before I pick the test up off the counter’s edge. Bringing it down to me, I read the results and smile, releasing a relieved breath.
Five
Sedona
“The party store is out of blue balloons. How does that happen?” I ask, dropping the bags filled with a million pink balloons. No blue.
“Without them, we’re not representing Brooklyn,” Juno says.
“Someone call Wyatt, he’ll have them flown in,” Phoenix jokes while she and Maverick straighten a tablecloth on the folding table.
When you decide to have a triple baby shower, there’s only one place in town that can hold that many people. Thankfully, Cleo and Denver have an airplane hangar.
“Oh wait, I’ll call Kingston. He’s in Anchorage.” I step out of the hangar and pull out my phone.
Before I have his name on the screen, I hear Phoenix sucking in helium and talking to Maverick. I swear, sometimes I wonder how it’s possible we’re twins.
There are three missed calls from Jamison that I ignored last night after I flew in. The red notification circle feels like a blinking red light wanting me to give it the attention it needs. Later, I tell myself, and I dial Kingston.
“You back in Lake Starlight?” he answers.
I laugh at my brother’s ability to never bother with semantics like greetings. “I am.”
“Awesome. I’m just pulling out of the station now. I gotta change. This is casual, right?�
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“Before you head back here, can you stop at a party store in Anchorage and grab some blue balloons? They didn’t have any at the one in town.”
“Sure.”
“Great, thanks.”
“Wait, what’s up with Jamison?”
Kingston never asks me personal questions. Mostly because he never wants me to pry into his affairs. The fact that he’s still pining away for Stella is supposed to be top secret, but we all know it. At least Phoenix, Juno, and I do. He liked one of Stella’s posts on Instagram the other day, so we know he follows her. Which cannot be good.
“Why?” I clear my throat. “I mean, what do you mean?”
“The guys and I were watching ESPN last night. One of the guys at the station, Lou, he’s really into soccer and noticed Jamison wasn’t playing. He didn’t get traded, did he?”
No. “No. He hurt his ankle during the last game.”
“Oh, I swear I didn’t see him on the bench either.”
Okay, Kingston, I get the point. “Well, you know how they only have the cameras at certain angles. He was there.”
After a minute, Kingston says, “I’m glad he wasn’t traded. I know the long distance between the two of you before was hard. Okay, I’m almost at the party store. Anything else?”
I step back into the hangar. “Do we need anything else from the party store in Anchorage?”
Phoenix inhales helium. “More helium?” Then she giggles and Maverick laughs at his one-day stepmom.
“Think we’re good,” I say.
“Tell Phoenix to save some for the rest of us. I’ll drop off the balloons before I change.”
“Cool, thanks, King,” I say. We hang up, and I throw my phone into my purse before digging out the baby confetti to put on each table. “Kingston’s gonna grab some blue balloons.”
“Good,” Juno says from her task of arranging the dessert table. “I’m just getting the table ready for Greta.”
“Is she bringing any donuts or cookies?” Maverick asks from across the room where he and Phoenix are now putting photo picture props by the rented photo booth.
“Who’s in charge of games again?” I ask.
“Me!” Denver walks in with metal keg bins.
“This isn’t a keg party,” Juno says, her voice missing its usual niceness.
Cleo walks in right after him with pieces of paper in hand.
“What games do you have planned?” I ask.
Denver winks and clicks his tongue on the roof of his mouth as though he’s just waiting until we hear how awesome they are.
“We’ve got… open door number one, Cleo…” He gives his best Bob Barker impersonation.
Cleo rolls her eyes. “I’m not a part of this.” She drops the papers on the table and walks over to us.
“Babe!” Denver drops the bins and takes the tape and large poster board, positioning it on the wall.
“Denver!” Phoenix scolds, her hand covering Maverick’s eyes.
I’m fairly sure Juno and I close our eyes and open them slowly. Sure enough, it’s a print-out of a giant vulva.
“Phoenix,” Maverick whines and attempts to pry her fingers off his eyes.
“Get it off the wall,” Phoenix bites out, plastering Maverick’s back to her chest, one of her hands over his eyes and the other across his stomach.
“I told you it was inappropriate,” Cleo singsongs and disappears back out the door.
“What on Earth?” Juno asks.
Seeing that Denver has no plans of taking it down, Phoenix steps forward with Maverick, his eyes still covered until they’re by the doors. “Head into the office while I have a conversation with Uncle Denver.”
When the door shuts behind Maverick, Phoenix swats Denver with both hands. “What were you thinking?”
Denver dodges and weaves out of the way. “Come on. It’s Pin the Sperm on the Vulva.”
Yep, of course, the small pieces of papers Cleo was holding are cut-out sperm.
“How much time did you spend on this?” Juno asks.
“I was up until two cutting out the sperms.”
I pick up one. “You glued googley eyes on them?”
Denver smiles proudly. “Of course.”
The rest of us sit there and stare at him as we have most of our life—baffled at how he’s biologically related to us.
“I’m thinking the game could go in the storage room or something,” I suggest before Phoenix loses her shit. Although stepmomhood has calmed her wild ways, she still has low patience when it comes to Denver’s antics.
“Fine. But it was going to be the highlight of the night.” Denver takes the tape off the wall, and Juno helps him carry the sperm.
Phoenix sits down at the table. “Are we really going to ask people if they want to go into a closet to play a game?”
“Want me to go get Maverick?”
She waves. “Nah, I’m sure he’s playing some game on Denver’s computer. The kid knows his password since Maverick had to fix something for him the other day.”
I sit next to her. “You look tired.”
“I am. My schedule is grueling but totally worth it. Next month we’ll just be working on the album, so it will be calmer.” She straightens her back. “Enough about me. You’ve been tight-lipped since you arrived.” She narrows her eyes at me.
That’s the thing about being a twin. She already knows something’s up. I knew when things weren’t going well with her in LA before she came home.
“Nothing. I worry about Juno though.”
Phoenix leans back in her chair, crosses her arms, and raises her eyebrows at me.
“I might stay home for a little while. Help out with all the babies.”
Her expression doesn’t change.
My lip trembles because I can’t fool my twin.
I press my lips together, but she sees it and her hand covers mine. “What happened, Sedona?”
I scan the room. It’s so pretty for my sisters’ and Holly’s baby shower. I am not going to ruin it with my own drama. “Can we talk about it later?”
“Come over tonight. Spend the night at my place?”
I’ve been staying with Juno since Kingston was on shift and they’re both single, but I need Phoenix’s advice. “Yeah, okay.”
She squeezes my hand and pulls me into a chair hug. “Am I going to want to fly to New York City and knee him in the balls?”
“You’d have to go to Scotland.”
She pulls back from our embrace, looking worried, and my nose tickles from the rush of tears that want to spill. The best thing about Phoenix is she knows me better than anyone. That thought alone has scared me since she got with Griffin. Do I know her the best out of everyone still? There are probably things she shares with Griffin that I have no idea about.
“Bobbing for Nipples?” Juno asks Denver as they walk out of the storage locker. “Where did you find these games? What happened to eating a jar of baby food and guessing how many candies are in a baby bottle?”
Phoenix is quick to let me go because if she gives them the idea that there’s something wrong, then pretty soon, Grandma Dori will end up on my ass about it.
Calista runs into the hangar with Dion right on her heels and Phoebe waddling after. All three are pushing strollers with baby dolls inside. Harley follows, her skin looking pasty and her hair thrown into a bun. She’s wearing yoga pants and a torn sweatshirt.
“Why do you need all these strollers and babies, Denver?” Harley asks.
All of us turn our heads in his direction, but his mischievous smile says it all.
Six
Kingston
I open the door of the party supply place for a mom and her daughter with a huge bunch of pink and silver balloons. Inside the store is a line of twenty people waiting for one lonely sales associate who looks like a high schooler.
Scanning the aisle signs, I search for balloons. I’m sure I can flirt my way to the front of the line if all I have is a bag of blue balloons
.
“Bailey,” a guy calls as I walk by one aisle.
I step back, assuming it’s a guy from the station.
Unfortunately, it’s not a guy from the station.
“Owen,” I say.
“Don’t sound too excited.” He puts his arm around the girl he’s with.
He’s delusional to think I want everything of his. I only wanted one thing of his, my entire life.
“I just got off shift.”
“You’re a firefighter?” the girl asks, her eyes focusing on my jacket.
I could say yeah and excuse myself from this conversation. That would be the right thing to do. Call me immature after this stunt, but my history with Owen is long. “Smokejumper during the summer. Firefighter during winter.”
Her gaze soaks me in again, except this time her body shifts away from Owen.
“And you get paid shit money for putting your life on the line,” Owen says.
“At least I don’t smell like fish every day.”
“You’re on call twenty-four seven during the summer. Talk about sucking.”
“You’re on a boat with a bunch of dudes for months at a time.” I raise my eyebrows.
He opens his mouth and shuts it. I’m not naïve enough to think he won’t come up with something. When all else fails, he’ll go for the jugular.
“Are you guys friends, or not?” The girl laughs awkwardly.
Does this girl think we’re competing for her or something? She’s wrong. The girl we’re still competing over has moved on without a glance back at either of us.
“We are. Kingston’s just pissed because I dated the girl he wanted all through high school. Slow healing wound, I guess.” Owen’s smug look should be stripped away by my fist.
“What are you doing at a party store?” I ask, purposely ignoring his jab so it looks as though that wound has healed. It hasn’t, but there’s a lot Owen doesn’t know. Things I’ll never tell him.
“My sister’s having a baby!” the girl exclaims. “I’m throwing her a shower. And Owen came to help carry the bags.”
