Page 103 of Accidental Baby Daddy

Trent gasped. “Anarcade?”

Oliver smiled at him in the rearview mirror. “Let’s do it.”

Trent whooped in victory.

We arrived at the restaurant and were seated right away. Trent kept staring at the arcade area.

“We have to eat our food first, okay, buddy?” I said, and Trent sighed heavily. But then he looked at me with a smile.

“Okay, Mommy.”

Tears sprang to my eyes, and I sniffled, wiping at them as my heart just seemed to swell and swell.

“Are you all right?" Oliver asked quietly.

“I’m perfect,” I said. “Everything is… perfect.”

“It is, isn’t it?” he agreed.

Trent leaned his head against my shoulder for a moment, smiling, before coloring his kid’s menu.

An hour later, Trent and I were playing Pac-Man on the arcade machine, and he was beating my pants off.

“You’re too good at this,” I complained.

He laughed out loud. “I’m just good enough, Daddy always says.”

“Daddy can kick both your butts at Pac-Man,” Oliver said, coming up behind us.

“Put your money where your mouth is, mister,” I replied, and Oliver reached into his pockets, pulling out tokens with a cocky grin.

Another hour later, we were all out of tokens and I was exhausted, my feet aching from working last night and being on them for too long while playing Pac-Man.

“You all right?” Oliver asked, and I nodded tiredly.

“Just need to get off my feet,” I said with a wince. “I think they’re swollen.”

“Why?” Trent asked, looking at me with his head tilted.

“Because sometimes the baby makes that happen,” I explained.

Trent got very close to my stomach, putting a hand on it. “Don’t do that, little sister. Don’t hurt Mommy.”

I couldn’t help but smile. "Thanks, Trent.”

“Did she listen?”

“I’m sure she did.”

Trent patted my belly again. “Good girl.”

Oliver looked down at us, and when I met his warm brown eyes, there were tears in them.

“Now I’m the one who should be asking you if you’re okay,” I teased gently.

“I’m perfect, too,” he said, wiping his eyes with the back of his hand.

“Me, too,” Trent piped up.

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