Page 90 of Better Daddy
Lo growls.
Cal whips toward her. “Losing males. Not you,” he promises with his token pretty boy smirk. When she rolls her eyes, he turns back to me. “The losing males clean the bathroom for a month.”
Sloane’s answering giggle sells me on the idea instantly. “Sure,” I agree. “But if we don’t go now, we’ll be late.”
“You’ll text as soon as you know, right?” Lo reminds my wife.
“Come on, T.J.” I snag the bakery box off the counter and herd my family out of the flat.
“If I put this here, you’ll hold it right, bud?” I ask as I set the small box on the seat next to him.
“We can strap it in.” T.J. pulls the belt around the little box, causing the cardboard to crush a little.
I wince, but I bite my tongue. The damage won’t change the taste, and that’s all that matters. That and the gender reveal part.
“Yoo-hoo!” Madame E calls. “So excited for the big day!”
I turn and give her a small wave. “We are.”
She stops in front of me and surveys my button. “I always knew you were an intuitive one, Sullivan. While the rest of your crew walks around sporting all that team blue silliness, you and I clearly know it’s a baby girl.”
Sloane freezes halfway into the front seat and darts a look at Madame E. “What?”
No, no, no. I see it on Sloane’s face. If Madame E confirms it, then she’ll believe her. And I have a plan.
“No—”
Before I can shut her down, our resident psychic predicts the future. “Yes, a little baby girl. I’ve been seeing her for a while now. And I love the name. Tia H?—”
“Don’t.” I cut her off, looking desperately to my wife, whose lips are pursed like she’s fighting a smile.
“Oh, yes,” Madame E responds, her voice fading as she moves to her tiny car. “Maybe you haven’t picked it yet, and oh, how fun the surprise will be.”
Bloody hell.Nowshe realizes we might want a surprise?
I turn back to Sloane, who’s fully seated in the passenger seat, giggling, and close her door.
“Did she say it’s a girl?” T.J. asks his mum, his voice loud enough to be heard outside the car. “Does that mean we don’t have to go to this boring doctor thing?” he asks as I climb in.
“What?” I ask.
Sloane shrugs. “We know it’s a girl now.”
I suck in a breath. “We bloody well don’t. We aren’t just taking her word for it.” Yes, the woman might make clever guesses from time to time, but I’m not taking her word when it comes to such a big detail.
“I’m not eating a pink cupcake.” T.J. huffs. “Pink is gross.”
Great. I rub a hand down my face. There goes my perfect day.
“We’re still going, Sully.” Sloane pats my leg. “This is also an anatomy scan.”
“We don’t know—” I stop myself. It’s pointless. I can see in my wife’s eyes that she already knows. Frankly, who the hell am I to doubt Madame E? She’s annoyingly accurate.
The appointment turns into a chore rather than an exciting experience. T.J. fidgets through the scan, and we tossed the cupcakes—yes, plural; in case Sloane had a craving for something sweet—on the way in, because according to our son, no one eats pink cupcakes.
Although the tech confirms that we’re having a healthy baby girl, the blood pressure reading the nurse said aloud as she documented put a damper on my excitement. It’s still well within a healthy range, but it’s higher than the last time we were here. The doctor might not be worried, but that doesn’t stop my own concern for the love of my life.
“Can we go to Extreme Energy?” T.J. asks on our way out.
