Page 17 of Curvy Girl and the Bad Boy Cowboy

"My brothers will shut down any gossip," I assure her. "The Covingtons still carry some weight around here."

"And what about you?" she asks quietly. "Are you worried about what people will think of the wild Covington having a baby?"

The question catches me off guard. I haven't really thought about how this affects my reputation. It's been all about Naomi, the baby, and my family.

"I don't care what people think," I say honestly. "Never have."

"That's not entirely true," she counters gently. "You care a lot about your image as the carefree brother."

Her observation is uncomfortably accurate. I fiddle with my silverware, buying time to respond.

"Maybe I did," I finally admit. "But things change. Priorities change."

"Because of the baby?"

"Because of the baby," I nod. "And because... I don't know. Maybe I was getting tired of that role anyway."

Madeline returns with our food, setting down steaming plates of perfectly golden grilled cheese sandwiches and bowls of rich tomato soup. Naomi's milkshake arrives in an old-fashioned metal mixing cup with a glass on the side.

"Anything else you need, you just holler," Madeline tells us before moving to another table.

Naomi immediately dips her sandwich into the soup and takes a big bite, closing her eyes in apparent bliss.

"Oh my god, this is exactly what I needed."

I follow her lead, surprised by how hungry I am. For a few minutes, we eat in comfortable silence.

"So," Naomi says eventually, stirring her soup. "Names?"

"Right," I nod. "Any favorites?"

"I've always liked Emma," she offers. "And Lily."

"Both nice," I agree, though neither quite feels right for our daughter. Our daughter—the phrase still feels surreal in my mind.

"What about you?" she asks. "Any ideas?"

I hadn't really thought about it until now, but a name immediately comes to mind. "What about Grace?"

"Grace," she repeats, testing it out. "Grace Harper Covington."

"Or just Grace Harper," I say quickly. "I don't want to presume—"

"No, I like it with Covington," she interrupts. "She should have your name too."

I'm about to reply when a heavy hand lands on my shoulder. I turn to find Max standing there, flanked by two other Cedar Falls firefighters in their department hoodies.

"Dude, where have you been?" Max asks. "I've been texting you all afternoon."

"Hey, Max," I say, suddenly aware of the ultrasound photo sitting on the table between Naomi and me. I resist the urge to slide it into my pocket. "Sorry, I had my phone off. Doctor's appointment."

Max's eyebrows shoot up. "You sick or something?"

"No, nothing like that." I glance at Naomi, who gives me a small nod of encouragement.

"We're actually hitting up The Rusty Nail tonight," Max continues, oblivious to the moment happening. "They've got that band from Billings playing. You in?"

I look at Naomi again, and a smile spreads across my face. "Can't tonight, Max. I've got other responsibilities now."

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