Page 114 of Shootout Daddies
“Yes,” she whispers, smiling through tears.
We all exhale together, like that one word tethered us tighter than anything else.
But Landon, being Landon, isn’t done surprising her. He shifts, reaching for his phone, tapping something quick before sliding it back onto the table.
“And… I’ve already been in touch with a clinic downtown. They run private prenatal classes. I can set one up for us—focus on multiples. It’ll cover everything. Feeding, sleep, what to expect. We’ll go together.”
Ivy’s mouth falls open. “Landon?—”
He shrugs, but I see the faint pink on his cheeks. “Figured it’d help.”
Hunter groans dramatically. “Of course the lawyer plans homework.”
“Better homework than winging it,” Landon fires back smoothly.
Ivy laughs, covering her face with her hands like it’s all too much. “I love you guys.”
And lying there, still tangled in her warmth, I know she means it.
I hook an arm around her waist, pulling her close. “Babymoon, prenatal classes, three months together. We’ve got this, sweetheart.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
Landon
Mr. Davis’svoice comes clear through the speaker. “I was finally able to make contact with Macy,” he says. “She’s… open to a conversation. But only if compensated for her time and travel.”
My jaw flexes. Of course she is. “What kind of compensation are we talking?”
“Flights, hotel, a stipend. Nothing outrageous, but not charity either. She’s positioning herself as… cooperative, but unwilling to take a loss for the effort.”
I pinch the bridge of my nose. Chloe’s mother—absent for months of her life, suddenly interested when there’s leverage to be gained.
Part of me wants to tell Davis to let her rot. But it isn’t my decision. Not mine alone.
“I’ll pass the message to Rhett,” I say finally, voice clipped.
“Good,” Davis replies. “Keep me updated. We’ll need to move fast if she decides to play ball.”
The call ends. The dashboard glows faintly in the dim light, and I stare out at the palm trees whipping by. Rhett deserves to know, but not now. Not here, not when we’re supposed to be giving Ivy the kind of weekend she’ll never forget.
He just dropped Chloe and Storm at Brooke’s this morning, a backpack full of toys and bottles, the look on his face a mix of guilt and relief. He’s earned a breather, and so has she.
I tuck my phone into the cup holder and glance over my shoulder.
We’re parked in the little seaside town of Key Biscayne, palm-lined streets dotted with boutiques and cafés. Hunter insisted we stop before the final drive down to our villa.
He’s in the passenger seat now, holding two cups of fresh-pressed juice, one of which Ivy is sipping like it’s nectar.
She looks… radiant. There’s no other word for it.
Her hair’s down, the loose waves catching the sunlight as it slides through the windshield. She’s in a pale yellow sundress that ties at the shoulders, soft cotton that skims her thighs and flares just enough to float around her knees. Her hand gently presses on her belly.
Soon, she will be swelling up with our babies. I can hardly believe it. I catch myself smiling like an idiot.
Hunter nudges her glass higher. “Careful, you’ll drink it all before Rhett gets back.”
She grins, lips glossy from the citrus. “That’s the plan.”
