Page 142 of Stay With Me
Or a mind reader!
Tripp
Probably both. She knew about Magnolia and me before I even said anything.
Noah
At this rate, I’m surprised she hasn’t revealed who’s been doing the break-ins.
Tripp
Me too. Get the FBI on the phone and tell them to hire her for the job.
She giggles.
“What are y’all texting about?” Fisher asks, leaning over Noah’s phone and she holds it out for him to read.
After a few minutes of him scrolling through our messages, he arches a brow at me.
“Don’t give me that look. You slept in the bed of your truck outside of Noah’s place after she broke up with you, and she was injured at the time,” I remind him. “So you better be on my side about this.”
Fisher nods, then gives Noah a shrug when her jaw drops in disbelief that he’d agree with me.
“Well, sheispregnant...” he whispers, but leave it to my nosy-as-shit family to overhear.
“Who’s pregnant?” Mallory blurts from four seats over, and everyone goes silent.
Noah freezes, and I do, too. It’s not exactly our business to share with everyone that Magnolia’s pregnant, but considering most of them know we’re together, they’d assume it’s mine. Since she doesn’t want them to think that, it makes announcing it a bit tricky.
“Um...” Noah swallows, and I watch as her mind spins.
Then she glances at Fisher, and he gives her a smile of approval.
“Well...I am. We just found out.”
“Oh my goodness!” Mom nearly flies out of her chair, rushing over toward them.
Next, the rest of the family takes their turn giving hugs.
“Good thing I already called dibs on godfather, huh?” Landen smirks when everyone gets back in their chairs.
“Nice try,” Noah says.
“Oh, come on. I’ve been really sad lately, and this would bring happiness back into my life.” Landen sticks out his lower lip, laying it on thick.
“That’s pathetic!” Waylon shouts.
“You can’t use the dead horse card!” Wilder argues.
I wrap my arm behind Waylon to smack Wilder in the head. “Dude, shut up.”
Wilder’s brain-to-mouth filter is defective on a good day, but Jesus Christ, he really has no sense of aptness.
“Just for that, Ishouldget to be.” Landen shoots a shit-eating smirk in Wilder’s direction.
Waylon and Wilder argue with him before Dad clears his throat.
“Boys,” he barks, grabbing our attention. “Back to your food.”
