Page 156 of The One I Hate
And when I get home tonight, I’ll fall into bed with the love of my life, who’s about to have our baby.
Life doesn’t get much better.
It’s been more than a month since Charlie found out about the diner—and since then, things have been smooth sailing. We redrew the lease to reflect her intent to buy it, with portions of the rent going toward that. The diner is booming, and she has her maternity leave plan in place. Now that she knows about Magnolia Properties, I’ve been able to go all in on a few projects around Rolling Hills that I was hesitant to start. Between Emmett running my properties and me buying and selling them, we’re becoming a well-oiled machine.
Life is good.
I don’t know how it could get much better than this.
“Simon!” Duncan yells from the first tee box. “How about a shot before we get going?”
I let out a low groan. “Why did you invite him?”
“Your dad asked if we could,” Oliver says. “And I might be thirty-six years old, but I’m still scared of your father.”
I shake my head, grab my driver, and head over to the bar, conveniently next to the first tee. “Sure, but only one.”
“I’M HAVING A BABY!”
Everyone at The Joint cheers and holds up their drinks as I throw back another shot of whiskey.
“Round’s on me!”
Porter rolls his eyes as he takes the empty shot glass away. “It’s an open bar, asshole. Quit making everyone think you’re buying each round.”
I slam my hand down. I didn’t mean to. It just weighs a lot right now. “An open bar is the least I can do. Did you see how many diapers they got me? There are soooooo many diapers.”
“I did,” Porter says, and I don’t know if it’s because I’m drunk, but he seems annoyed with me. “Never did I think I’d have five thousand fucking diapers in my bar.”
“Well, you do!” I yell, grabbing another beer. “Because I’m going to be a daddy!”
I stumble away from the bar to head back to the party. This part of the day is a little more rowdy than golf. And a few more people are here. Everyone was invited—no girls allowed, of course—but there was one rule: You had to come with a gift of diapers.
All sizes. Didn’t matter how many. But apparently the invitations said: “Simon will be changing diapers for the next few years. Let’s help him with that.”
The men of Rolling Hills did not disappoint.
“There he is!”
I’m nearly knocked over by Duncan, who I don’t know why is still here. Dad left after golf, and I’d assume he’d take his future son-in-law with him.
No such luck.
“Hey, Duncan.”
“What’s it like?”
“What’s what like?”
He throws his arm around me, which for a guy that’s barely five-foot-seven, still has a punch. “Pregnancy sex? I heard it was nuts.”
I’ve never liked Duncan. When he first started dating Stella, I called him Duncan the Douche. But I was told by my sisters, mother, father, and Stella herself, that she loves him, so I better get used to him being around.
But right now I want to fucking lay him out.
“Hey, guys. Sorry. I need Simon.”
I’m pleasantly surprised when Emmett steps in and drags me away. Literally. I’m not walking great right now.
