Page 197 of Branded
This afternoon he had a charity event, so I’d cooked him lunch, saw him off, all the while doing anything and everything to convince him I was fine and coping with what had happened.
He was worried.
But I’d get him to understand it was a one-off.
“I’m in love and she’s—” Pru cleared her throat, eyes a little glassy.
I squeezed my friend’s hand. “Mila is special.”
And she’d been alone.
An orphan who had sad eyes and a quiet disposition.
But Marcel and Pru had taken the classes. They had a bedroom always at the ready.
And now they had a little girl sleeping in the bed they’d so carefully picked out, having gone to a half-dozen stores before they’d made the purchase.
“Yeah,” Pru whispered. “Really special.”
“And you’ll make her happy,” I said.
“Yeah, I will.”
I grinned. “And take her on lots of adventures that will turn Marcel’s hair gray?”
Pru smiled now, the tension and heavy dissipating. “Exactly.” But then insecurity slid back in. “Are we crazy?”
“Fuck yeah, you are,” I teased. “But you’re speaking to a woman who’s raving with pregnancy hormones and craving Double-Stuffed Oreos, so you know…c’est la vie. You deserve a life that’s full and happy, and so does she.”
“Yeah, she does.”
“And”—I punched Pru lightly on the arm—“you’ll give it to her. I know you will, same as these babies will be happy and perfect and drive you absolutely bonkers because they’re your eggs”—Pru had lost most of her reproductive parts, but she’d had one ovary, enough to harvest the eggs that had been implanted into me—“but they’ll also probably be angels most of the time because it’s Marcel’s sperm.”
Pru grinned.
“So, yes, it’s crazy and I’m sure it will be overwhelming on most days and just a lot on others.” Another punch. “But you two are the people I know most in the world who can handle it, who have so much love to give that they won’t want for anything.”
“Shit,” Pru muttered.
“What?”
“I’m a badass former hockey player.”
“Yeah, you are.”
Pru wrinkled her nose. “And badass former hockey players aren’t supposed to turn into blubbering fools just because one of their two best friends in all the world is freaking awesome and gushy.”
“Meh.” A shrug. “You could use a little gushiness.”
Pru grinned. “Well, I know you’d give it to me, even if I didn’t want it.”
I grinned back. “Damn right I would.”
“Okay.” Pru smacked her hands on the table. “Now that you’ve given me the gushy you think I need?—”
“Know you need,” I chimed in.
Pru rolled her eyes. “Then you need to let me give you the gushy back.”
