Page 104 of Masked in Deception
I’m cut off by him scooping me out of the car and walking me to the old clearing near the back of the property, where we would spend so much time playing as children. I know he’s in impeccable shape, but damn, it’s hot for him to walk a half mile, holding me like it’s nothing. I don’t even think to question him until he sets me on a branch of the tree I’ve always considered special.
“Jack, I’m pretty sure that’s not what this means, but I just have to make sure. You do know when women say they nest when they get pregnant, that doesn’t actually involve a bird's nest, right? Because I do appreciate that you would stake my favorite tree, but continuing to fix the house up is really what that means…”
Before I can continue, he drops to both knees in front of me, as if this tree was my throne and he was kneeling at my feet. “Margot Sinclair. I…Would you…It’s just…” He looks up at mewith tears already falling down his face and reaches in his pocket to pull out a little pink velvet box. “Princess, you always said you were going to marry me. Do you still mean that?”
When he opens the box to showcase the exact pink diamond ring I used to obsess over, my demure sniffles turn into plain ugly crying.
“Margot Sinclair, will you marry me?”
“Jack Carter, if you don’t get me out of this damn tree right this minute and put your ring on my finger, I’m going todie!”
As commanded, my very own Prince Charming stands and places the diamond on my left ring finger. Lifting me from the branch, he twirls me around and around in the process. “Does that mean you’ll marry me, baby?” he asks as he gently places me on my feet, his arms still wrapped snug around my waist.
“Yes, yes, a million times yes! Jackie! Umph…”
His lips crash into mine with a force that would knock me over if he wasn’t holding on to me so tightly, as our kiss deepens into something magical. Like the last piece of a jigsaw puzzle clicking into place, it dawns on me how I really did get my happily ever after. I’m going to marry the love of my life, we’re going to have a baby, and we’re going to grow old together surrounded by the family we create.
“Hmm, Margot Blanche Sinclair-Carter? Or Carter-Sinclair? I don’t think I want to drop my last name completely,” I say, looking down at my finger as he guides me back to the house, still in a post-proposal haze.
“How about just Margot Blanche Sinclair?” he suggests, spinning me to face him, and cupping my chin to pull my attention from the pink sparkly diamond to his deep blue eyes. “How about we just drop the Carter?”
My brows furrow as he stands there smiling softly. “You don’t want me to take your name?”
“Actually, I want to takeyourlast name. If you’d let me.”
Before I know it, he’s holding me with my legs around his waist. “Jackie, I would love that.”
I’m still grumbling because he never lets us take the golf cart anymore when we go to Mom’s house. We decided to move in beside her, partially because this house needed fewer renovations and partially because I want her closer when the babies get here. Not that Jack isn’t already lining up multiple nannies and doulas to help get us through the newborn stage with twins. We still travel to New York occasionally, but for the most part, we’ve stepped back from the day-to-day with our jobs and have just been enjoying life for the first time in years.
“I know you love it, Princess, but you know why we can’t. Regardless of having to get on the road or not, it’s not the absolute safest mode of transportation for the babies.”
My only response is an eye roll as he helps me out of the car to go to our celebratory dinner. Confetti flies through the air as we walk through the door as a small choir of “congratulations” fills the air from our family, immediately lightening my mood. I don’t know if I was just too tired during my first trimester, but as soon as I hit twelve weeks, my mood swings have been out of control. Mom is sure it’s because we’re having a boyanda girl, but we’ll have to wait a couple more weeks for the anatomy scan to be sure.
Henry is the first to make contact since Sloane and Ledger are busy entertaining LJ. “Welcome to the family, officially, Mr. Sinclair,” he says, holding out a hand for Jack to shake before pulling him into a bro hug.
“Hell yeah! Welcome, brother!” Ledger chimes in, leaping up from the floor and pouncing on Jack, nearly bringing him to the ground in the process.
It didn’t take my brothers long to move past everything, especially with a little help from Mom. Henry was the first to get over himself, and the free babysitting really helped our case with Ledger. They still try to steer clear of the R-rated discussions that used to take place way too often, which I can’t say I’m upset about. There are things you just don’t need to know about your brothers. Or your parents for that matter.
“It’s mighty big of you to forfeit your Carter IV for a Sinclair Jr.,” Henry teases, ruffling Jack's hair, a move that’s annoyed him all his life.
Rolling his eyes, he wraps his arms around me, resting his hands on my swollen belly. “Yeah, well, if we are lucky enough to get one of both, we’ll have an MJ and a JJ.”
“Margot Blanche Sinclair Jr.?” Ledger asks, and you can practically see the light bulb glowing above his head.
“Yup! And JohnFlynnSinclair Jr.!” I say, emphasizing Jack’s middle name.
Henry chuckles, but Ledger is locked on Sloane. “Nope! Don’t even think about it!” Sloane says, looking up from her son and reading his mind like a book the minute they lock eyes. “We are not naming our daughterSloane Jr.!”
They are due about the same time as us but went ahead and did the blood test to find out the gender this time. I’m really not sure who’s more excited to have a little girl between the two of them. It definitely makes me hope we have one of each as well, so nobody will be outnumbered. Not that growing up with three brothers—well, two brothers and a Jack—was so bad, but poor LJ if he ends up with three little Sinclair girls.
“Oh, why not, darling?” Mom asks, kneeling beside Sloane to play with the baby. “The next could be Blanche Jr.! We could have an LJ, a JJ, an MJ, and SJ and then a BJ!”
The last name gets everyone’s attention as we all break out in simultaneous rounds of laughter.
“Okay, okay, no Blanche Jr.!” Mom says between breaths.
I’m clenching my legs together to hold my bladder, and when I look at Sloane, she’s doing the same. I’ve reached the point in pregnancy when I pee every time we laugh or sneeze, and as silly as it is, it’s nice to have someone close going through it with me. And as competitive as our husbands are, I have a feeling this won't be the last time we find ourselves experiencing this together.
