Page 271 of Deceit

Emmy frowns, searching my expression to see if it’s okay. “Will you be mad?”

“No.”

“You’re mad.”

“I’m not mad.”

“But you wanted to be surprised.”

I shrug. “It’s not like we’re not going to have any more kids. We can do it the next time.”

“I could’ve kept it a secret if you’d stop going into the nursery,” she scolds as though I brought this conversation up and wanted to spoil my own secret.

“What’s that have to do with anything?” Emmy looks heavenward and pulls from my grip, clearly exasperated with me.

Rearranging herself on the couch, she scoots close to the edge and tries to twist her body, her big belly in her way. She’s still learning to navigate herself sometimes, the beautiful creature.

“Because you won’t stay out,” she repeats. “You’ll notice if I finish it.”

“It’s not done?” Brown eyes slit at me. “I mean…I thought it was.”

“It’shalfdone. Hardy can’t bring anything in because you walk in there like babies are gonna fall out of the sky and land in the crib.”

“Ems, tell me what you wanted to say so I can catch up here.”

“Twins,” she blurts. “We’re having twins. I need to have two cribs, two dressers. I want to make sure it’s all set up before we give birth. You keep standing in there, and it’s sweet and cute but, babe, I need to get it all done.”

I stare at her because she just saidtwins.

Twins still stand for two babies, right?

I glance down at Alaric and Atlas laying on their bellies, playing with teething toys, confirming my damn question.

“Two girls, right?” I flick my gaze to her when she doesn’t respond.

“Aw, babe—“ She reaches out to touch my cheek. “—you’re gonna be kissing my ass so hard for putting two boys in me.”

My eyes expand so much that I’m surprised they don’t roll out. “Fuckingboys?”

“Two little Kace Bishops.” She rubs her belly. “Right here.” Emmy looks so peaceful at the news that I’m starting to believe that my racing heart is just me freaking out over nothing.

I mean, I can handle boys.

A few smacks to the back of the head, and we’re golden. But raising a good man is a pain in the ass. You gotta let them fuck up but not too much. You have to teach respect and how to treat people of all genders and sexual entities. Don’t go fucking the whole universe because you could get a woman pregnant and don’t catch an STD.

Men have it easy, no doubt with most shit, but we’re still the assholes that get elected in positioned powers.

My boys—all of them—are gonna get more than ass-whoopings as long as I’m living if I gotta reteach them.

“Emmy…” I trail off and she smiles, big and bright, settling my growing nerves. “I hope they’re like you.”

“Why?” She chuckles. “You’re charming.”

“And a dickhead.”

“Well, if we name one of them after your daddy, Jett, maybe we’ll only have to deal with one bad kid.”

I’m an action’s first, ask question later kinda guy, but I can’t do either.

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