Page 91 of Secret Twins for My Ex's SEAL Best Friend

My head snapped down to look at her, my heart thundering in my chest. She stared at the screen, her eyes wide, her mouth slightly open. She sat up, folding her gown slightly over the gel. “Did you just say…babies?”

The nurse nodded, smiling now, slight confusion on her face. “Did you not know? You’re having twins.”

I couldn’t move. I couldn’t speak. I just stared at the screen, the reality of what she’d said crashing into me like a tidal wave.

Twins.

I felt like someone had knocked the wind out of me, but at the same time, I couldn’t look away from the screen. Two shapes. Two tiny heartbeats. Two. Alive. Real.

“They’re okay?” Delia asked suddenly, her voice tight with emotion. “So it wasn’t a miscarriage? The blood, there wasmore than I thought there was. And I’d just been pushed to the ground. I thought…” She was winding in and out of thought, convincing herself there was a problem when we could see clearly on the screen that there wasn’t. I squeezed her hand.

The nurse nodded again, her voice soothing. “It was just spotting, nothing to be alarmed about. Very normal in twin pregnancies, and especially in times of stress. But both heartbeats are strong, and everything looks good.”

I let out a breath I didn’t realize I’d been holding, my chest heaving as relief flooded through me. My knees felt weak, and I had to steady myself against the edge of the bed.

“They’re okay,” I said softly, more to myself than anyone else. I turned to Delia, my hand still gripping hers tightly. “They’re okay, Delia.”

Tears welled in her eyes, and she nodded, letting out a shaky breath. “They’re okay.”

We stared at each other for a moment, the weight of everything settling between us. The fear, the relief, the overwhelming shock of what we’d just learned—it was all there, written in her teary eyes and in the way my own chest ached.

The nurse cut through the moment to ask, “Do you want to know the sexes?”

Delia and I looked at each other, and I gave a tiny shrug of one shoulder. She shrugged back and then looked at the nurse. “Lay it on us.”

“Baby boy here, and here…if we can just get baby number two to move their legs…oh, there we go. You’re lucky. One of each.”

“Twins,” Delia whispered.

“Twins,” I repeated, shaking my head slightly in disbelief. “A boy and a girl.”

A small, watery smile tugged at the corners of Delia’s lips, lips I’d cursed and kissed and everything in-between. She let out a cackle of disbelief. “A boy and a girl! I hope you’re ready for this.”

I huffed out a quiet laugh, running a hand through her hair, twisting the ends. “I hopewe’reready for this.”

Her smile widened just a little, and she reached for my hand, saying, “We’ve got this. All five of us.”

She said five. She remembered my daughter. I squeezed her hand gently.

“All five of us.”

forty-five

Delia

I was six months pregnant, and somehow, Robert had managed to convince me to fly in his private plane across the world to Venice. As far as early graduation presents go, a trip to Italy was hard to beat.

After eating my weight in cheese, we strolled along the river, my hand in Robert’s. I watched as gondoliers strode across the water, their oars as tall as them as they stewarded from the ends.

Robert jerked his head toward the river and rubbed the back of my hand with his thumb. “What do you think?”

I laughed and buried my face into his chest. His other hand sprang up to pet my hair. He looked down at me with a childlike playfulness and kissed my forehead.

“I’m six months pregnant,” I reminded him, looking down at my significant baby bump to emphasize my point.

Robert smiled and caressed my stomach with both hands, cupping the top and whispering, “That you are.” Then he looked at me and asked, “What, you think there’s a weight limit?”

“If there is, I don’t want to find out the hard way,” I teased, getting up on my tiptoes to kiss his lips. He kissed me back intensely, and I couldn’t help but smile against his mouth.

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