Page 100 of More Than Words

“Where’s the booze?” she asked, looking over her shoulder toward where Sam was standing.

“There’s some wine already open on the table. Help yourself. Everyone else should get here soon.” I watched as she filled her glass and then walked over to Sam. He placed his hand in the center of her back, leaning down to whisper in her ear. When they straightened, both with wide smiles on their faces, my stomach sank. Looked like they hadn’t discussed the phone conference Sam had been on this morning.

But I wasn’t getting involved in that mess. I had my own life to figure out first.

“You did good,” I whispered, leaning back into Adrian’s chest. He’d barely left my side the entire dinner, holding my hand or my thigh when he was near and wrapping me in his arms while we chatted with guests. Evan and Chase had just disappeared, and I knew it was showtime.

Evan’s dad quietly gestured for us to follow him through the path that led to the breezeway overlooking the lower gardens, where we’d wait for them to reappear.

“I just did what Evan asked me to.”

“Mmhmm,” I whispered, knowing that he’d done a lot more than that. He may have had a sometimes-acrimonious relationship with Evan, but it was clear he considered the young author a friend. “Take credit. You did a lot more than he expected and you know it.”

Now that the sun had set, the gardens had been transformed into something out of one of Chase’s novels. I was thrilled for her, but secretly wondered if that was in store for me. Adrian hadn’t mentioned the future of our relationship through all of this. He’d jumped headfirst into volunteering as tribute to get me pregnant, but he’d never brought up marriage.

I wasn’t even sure if it was something he wanted. He would be forty-one in a few months and had been a bachelor until this point, with no change in sight.

My story was messier. I knew how it felt to have someone you loved with your whole heart just crush it in their hands and walk away, leaving you to figure out what to do after your divorce. The love I’d felt for Grant was strong for us being so young, but what I felt for Adrian was so different.

Even though he liked to give off the impression he didn’t care about people, his actions told an entirely different story. He was a good man, and I was well on my way to falling for him.

We quietly watched while Evan led Chase into the courtyard, her eyes lighting up and filling with tears as he quietly knelt on one knee behind her.

“That could be us,” Adrian whispered in my ear, his hand moving to cover my stomach. Butterflies swarmed beneath it, a warm feeling spreading through me as he kissed my temple. “You let me know when you’re ready for it, and I’m there.”

He hadn’t even told me he loved me yet, and I’d been terrified to even think about voicing the depth of my feelings, but his comment was beyond those three little words.

As the people around us cheered and cat-called the newly engaged couple below us, I knew now was the time. Reaching back to cup the side of his face, I turned to look into his eyes.

“I’m pregnant.”

He seemed stunned for a moment, his fingers tightening his hold on my stomach, but then he exhaled and loosened his grip. “Seriously?”

Nodding, I tried to keep the tears from escaping my eyes, but as he tilted his head and his filled with moisture, I couldn’t keep them from falling.

“Babe,” he whispered, tucking his face into the side of neck. His chest heaved as he tried to keep his emotions in check, but he didn’t seem upset.

Closing my eyes, I rested my hand on the back of his, letting him process the news.

“Not sure how this happened,” he laughed, disbelief clear in his voice.

“Pretty sure you know how it happened,” I teased, but I hadn’t expected it to happen like this either. “Maybe we need to go buy some lottery tickets since chance seems to be on our side.”

“I don’t need lottery tickets. I feel like I already won the jackpot.”

Despite all the fears that still lingered, I did too.

Leila had been correct. Adrian indeed fucked the shit out of me once we got back to the hotel room in New York. He’d also been surprisingly discreet, not saying anything while we were still at the Cloisters that night.

Three days later—after we’d returned to Boston where he refused to let me out of sight—we were sitting in an exam room with my brand-new obstetrician.

“So,” Adrian’s voice was light, conversational, but I could tell from the naughty gleam in his eye he was going to say something stupid. He’d learned to read my expressions, but this was one of his I’d been familiar with for years.

“Did you have a question, Mr. O’Neill?”

“Is this something that happens regularly?”

“Pregnancy?” My OB laughed lightly. “Yeah, it happens quite often. My kids wouldn’t have gotten braces if people practiced more abstinence or regular use of contraceptives.”

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