Page 48 of Twin Babies For The Grump

It doesn’t feel like home.

Or more specifically, it doesn’t feel like the sort of home that I want to raise a family in.

My hand slides down to my belly. There’s no bump yet, but that doesn’t matter. Just knowing that there’s a baby forming inside of me is enough to flood me with a comforting warmth.

My townhouse has been a fine place to live this past year. It did its job well; the perfect home for a single woman. But I’m not a single woman anymore. I’m happily dating Owen, even if things are still a little under the table, and I’m going to be a mother soon.

Maybe Owen was onto something when he invited me to move in with him.

Even though I agreed to that happening after the competition, now— Maybe that’s something we need to discuss again once we clear things up with Macy.

Chapter Twenty-One

Owen

Afterhavingspentthemajority of the day out of the house handling interviews, I’m looking forward to having a tall glass of chilled wine.

I might even be convinced to crack open one of the bottles that Beau gave me as a thank-you for watching his two incredibly rowdy dogs.

At least, that’s what I’m debating on until I pull into the winery and catch sight of just—all of it.

The sun is starting to set. The solar lights and the fairy lights that are wrapped about the grounds have all come in, and the view of the vineyard bathed in the golden orange hues of dusk looks as though it’s come straight off a painting.

There are quite a few employees still milling around. I catch sight of a rather flustered-looking Tess, sitting at one of the stone benches. She has papers spread out over the table, weighed down with smooth white stones collected from one of the garden beds.

Every time the wind blows, it catches on her beach curls and sends them drifting over the back of her shoulders. She looks beautiful, but there’s a downward crease in her brow and stress lines pinching tight at the corners of her mouth.

Instead of going over and trying to see what’s going on, I decide to show her that she isn’t the only one working hard. I head to the curved stairs that lead up to the next level of the grounds, press two fingers into my mouth at the corners, and give a sharp, loud whistle.

Everyone stops and turns to look at me, even Tess and Marco.

Tess’s eyebrows raise. She looks as though she’s mentally trying to remind me that I’m supposed to be handling the staff with nicer, softer gloves. No more cracking them on the flank with the crop. It’s time to give them a little treat.

Well, the reminder isn’t needed.

Once I have everyone’s attention on me, I tell them, “I know that it’s been a long couple of weeks, and this next week is going to be even more difficult. The contest is about to hit in full.”

A pause.

Tess is still staring at me, brows raised.

I smile. It’s directed at her but aimed at everyone in the area. “I wanted to thank everyone for working as hard as you have. Why don’t we treat ourselves to a Wine Night?”

A cheer breaks out among the staff. There’s a clatter as people rush to get the tables, the ice bowls, and the wine itself set up. I let them handle that part, stepping over to where Tess is sitting.

“You’re going to put that up, aren’t you?” I ask her, sounding amused. “I don’t think it’s fair of you to tell me that I’ve got to take it easier with work, and then spend the Wine Night over here working.”

“I’m putting it up,” she promises, standing and collecting the papers. There’s a bright glint in her eyes, and she leans forward, rocking toward me, before seemingly catching herself. Her smile wavers.

I latch onto the change of expression instantly. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing that we need to handle now,” says Tess. She tucks the papers under her arm. “And it doesn’t have anything to do with the contest, either. Can we talk, later tonight?”

“Is everything okay with the—” I cut myself off, pressing a hand to my stomach instead, hoping that she catches the meaning of the mime.

Tess barely stifles her laughter. “Everything is fine with that. We’ll talk later, okay?”

“Okay,” I tell her, gaze drifting down to linger on her ass as she turns and heads for the break room, to put the papers up. There’s a series of pops as three corks are removed from the bottle. Food is spread out and passed around, and on a whim, I grab a tray of sliced cheeses from the estate house to add to the mix.

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