Page 48 of Riding Dirty for Christmas

“I was admiring your handiwork.” I turn to face my wife – God, that's real now – taking in her simple white dress with its subtle beading. Her cheeks are flushed from dancing, but there's something else too, a glow I've been noticing more lately. “You feeling okay? You barely touched the champagne during the toasts.”

She reaches past me for her sparkling water with lime – her fourth of the night. “I'm fine.” But she wrinkles her nose as a server passes with a tray of crab cakes, the same expression she's been making all week around certain foods.

I hide my smile, remembering how she's been avoiding her usual favorites, making excuses about wedding stress. I'm starting to have my suspicions, but I'm waiting for her to tell me in her own way. After all, Eden's timing has always been perfect, even when she thought she was ruining everything.

“Jack! Eden!” Caterina hurries over, her silver dress catching the light, Robert close behind. They're both beaming. “We wanted to give you our gift before everyone starts leaving.”

“Mom, you already gave us—” Eden starts, gesturing to the elaborate coffee machine they'd delivered to our place last week.

“That was a wedding gift,” Robert interrupts, pulling an envelope from his jacket pocket. There's a weight to hismovement, a significance that makes me straighten. “This is... something else.”

Eden leans against me as I open it. Inside is a deed, for the empty storefront next door, the one Eden's been eyeing for months but wouldn't let herself consider yet.

Her breath catches when she sees it.

“It's been a year,” Caterina says softly, reaching for Eden's free hand. “The boutique is thriving – don't think I haven't noticed the write-up in that fashion blog last month. And the bar...” She smiles at me. “Well, between your regular crowd and Eden's city clients making the trip up for your famous hot chocolate, you're both bursting at the seams.”

“We thought maybe it's time for expansion?” Robert adds, his usual gruff tone softening. “The building needs work, but...” He glances at me meaningfully. “Nothing we can't handle.”

“There's an apartment above it too,” Caterina chimes in, practically bouncing with excitement. “Bigger than your current one. More space for...” She trails off suggestively.

I catch the knowing gleam in her eye, the way she's been hovering over Eden all week. If my suspicions about Eden being pregnant are right, seems like mothers really do have that sixth sense everyone talks about.

Tony appears with fresh drinks – champagne for our parents, more sparkling water with lime for Eden. “Sorry to interrupt,” he says, grinning, “but there's a toast brewing out there. Something about the bride's college roommate and an embarrassing story?”

Eden groans. “Oh god, not the fashion week disaster story.”

Our parents rush out to intercept the roommate and save Eden from embarrassment.

“Jack?” Eden tugs my hand, pulling me away from the others toward a quiet corner of the reception hall. “Can we talk for a minute?”

Her fingers tighten on my arm, and I feel her take a deep breath against my side.

“Actually...” Her voice has that tone, the one she uses when she's about to change everything. “We might need that extra space sooner than you think.”

I turn to her sharply. “Eden?”

She bites her lip, eyes shining in that way they do when she's holding back happy tears. Her hand drifts to her stomach – a gesture so subtle I might have missed it if I hadn't been watching for signs all week.

“Surprise?” Her voice wavers with emotion. “I was going to tell you tonight anyway. I have the test results in my?—”

Something primal roars to life inside me. My wife - my beautiful, brilliant wife - is carrying our child. I lift her off her feet, spinning her as she laughs, not giving a damn who's watching. Mine. Both of them, mine to protect, to cherish, to love.

“When?” I manage, my voice rough with emotion.

“About seven months from now.” She cups my face with both hands, her touch grounding me as the reality sinks in. My hands find her waist, suddenly protective, possessive. Our baby is in there.

“Is it enough time to get the nursery ready?”

“Baby, I'll have that nursery done in a month.” I press my forehead to hers, overwhelmed by how much I love this woman. “You and our little one are going to have everything you need Mrs. Harrison.”

Her smile could light up the whole damn town. Mrs. Harrison. My wife. And now she's carrying my child. I didn't think this day could get any more perfect, but Eden's always been full of surprises.

The rest of the reception passes in a blur of toasts (sparkling cider for Eden), first dances, and stolen glances between us - our secret making everything sweeter. I catch Caterina hiding a smile every time Eden passes on the champagne, and I wonder how long she's suspected.

I find my wife by the hot chocolate station, watching her doctor it up with peppermint syrup - her newest craving, apparently. She's got that look in her eyes, the one I recognize from when she's planning a redesign.

“Penny for your thoughts?” I echo her earlier question, sliding my arms around her waist. “And should you be consuming all that caffeine?”

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