Page 47 of Inked Devotion

I looked over her. “I hoped it was cake. Or cupcakes. Or pretty much anything. I love your baking.”

She smiled at me then, and there wasn’t a hint of fear or nausea on her face. “Thanks for that.”

“It’s the truth. You’ve always known that.”

“Still, though, thank you. And like I said, I baked a cake. Maybe we can tell them after we’ve fed them sugar?”

“We go through the whole dinner pretending that we haven’t slept together and we aren’t having a baby?” She cringed, but I continued. “If we blurt it out at the beginning, it’ll not necessarily ruin dinner, but make it difficult.”

“That was my thinking.”

“Dessert. Here’s a cake, and by the way, we created a new life.”

She smiled then. “That makes sense. We’ve got a plan. A horrible plan that’s going to end up with more questions than answers, but we have one.”

“They’re going to ask us what our plans are,” I added.

“They don’t need to know them yet.”

“As we don’t have any plans other than making sure we don’t fuck up our friendship or this baby, yes, that’s all the plan that they’re going to need to know.”

“They’re going to have lots of questions, and perhaps answers.”

“And we’ll listen. No matter what, it’s you and me. Okay? No matter what happens, we’ve got this.” I reached for her hand and squeezed it, and she swallowed hard, smiling softly.

“We’ve got this. I still can’t believe this is happening, but okay.”

I shook my head before I pulled away so I could get out of the truck. I was over on her side, helping her out before she had a chance to fully wiggle down, then she narrowed her gaze at me.

“Your truck is too high.”

“I don’t even have a lift kit on it. I just leveled it out.”

“Still, you need running boards. Can you even fit a car seat back there?” she asked, and looked at the back of the cab.

I had my hands on her hips as I helped her down off the truck, and I swallowed hard. Mostly because of the feeling of her body pressed against mine, but then again, maybe the nervousness had to do with the idea that we were talking about car seats in my truck.

“We can. It’s a full extended cab, but I don’t know. Do you want to get a minivan?”

Brenna snorted. “I have an SUV, as you well know since you spent a few days in it. I don’t need a minivan.”

“I need the truck for work. I could afford to get another car, especially if the truck is for working on the company dime, but hell, I don’t know. I didn’t think about it. I don’t even know what we’re going to do about living situations.”

She froze and looked up at me. “Okay, first the Montgomerys, and then the rest of our lives. I don’t have time to think about the actual logistics of having a child with you.”

“Oh good, at least we’re on the same level here.”

“Of confusion and fear? Good. We’re at least here.”

“You’re here,” Annabelle said as she leaned against the doorway, her hands over the swell of her stomach. “And you brought dessert.” She held out her hands, wiggling her fingers. “Give me.”

“The cake is for after dinner,” Brenna said, and I figured if we had cake now, that meant we’d have to tell them about the baby now. And maybe that would be a good thing. Ripping it off like a band-aid.

That was a great way to think of my future child. Something painful.

“That’s not very nice. I want to see what kind of cake you made.”

“You’re welcome to see, but you’re not allowed to touch.”

---