Page 102 of Say I'm Yours
Trent gives me an odd look and then lifts the box and reads it aloud. “Another Hennington is in the oven.”
Everyone goes quiet, and I turn to see Trent’s face. His eyes are soft as he steps closer. I don’t know if he comprehended what it means, because he’s still not speaking. “You’re pregnant?” he asks.
“Yes.”
“You’re pregnant?” Presley yells.
“I’m pregnant.”
Trent’s arms circle around me, and he pulls me close. “We’re havin’ a baby.”
I tangle my hands in the hair on the back of his neck and grin. “We sure are.”
His lips touch mine, and I fight back tears.
Before I can get too lost in the moment, everyone crowds around us, squeezing us tight.
“We’re havin’ a baby!” Macie yells, and we all hug again.
Trent smiles at me and then kisses my forehead. “Yeah, I’m definitely the winner here today.”
Epilogue
Trent
~Eight years later~
“Don’t tellyour mama about this.” I point at Hannah as I try to clean up the candy wrappers all over the table.
Hannah has me wrapped around that tiny little finger of hers. My sweet daughter with the blue eyes and blonde ringlets—she’s the Devil. At seven, she’s able to get me to do just about anything.
My mother warned me about giving in to her, but I had it under control. Now, I’m learning my daughter is the master of mind warfare.
“Okay, Daddy.” Hannah smiles. “But so I don’t forget . . . maybe you should take me by Nana’s and we should groom Sadie.”
She might have been the master’s trainer. She’s that good.
“I already said we have plans tonight and you can’t go see your horse.”
“But Mama said no candy, you forgot that.”
“Who are you?” I mutter as I go back to getting rid of all the evidence.
Grace has a very strict no candy policy in the house. She talks about the kids she teaches and how they’re always hopped up on sugar. I usually don’t fight her on it, but Hannah had those sweet eyes and pouty lip.
It’s the lip. It’s always the lip.
I’m in the middle of putting the last handful in the bag when the door flies open. “Hey, bab—” Her eyes zero in on my hand. “Trent!”
“It’s not as bad as you think. And she gave me the lip.”
Grace rolls her eyes and shakes her head. “She’s seven and you’re a cop. Unreal.”
I’m glad she knows I’m hopeless at this point. Hannah came into our world and flipped it upside down. She was a difficult baby that became a tiny terrorist. She never slept, crapped through more clothes than any human should, and was constantly puking. I swear, whatever went in was coming out one end or the other.
Not to mention Grace’s pregnancy was like Angie’s.
She was always sick, threw things at me, and told me I destroyed her soul at least once a day. I was never more grateful for my hovering mother. For some reason, she wasn’t mad at her. Mama came every day, cleaned the house, did some sort of exorcism on my wife, and made sure I didn’t have to arrest Grace for homicide. Although, it would’ve definitely been me she killed.
