Page 23 of Knocked Up in Alaska

Chapter Seven

“Cheers to Team XX,” Bridget said from the opposite side of the hot tub built into the back patio of the Shanahan family home and held up a glass of red wine for a group toast. The churning water bubbled around her shoulders.

“Cheers,” Izzy echoed and leaned forward from her corner of the tub to tap glasses.

Lilah swallowed a mouthful of brownie, added her slightly muffled, “Cheers,” from her perch on the edge of the tub, and leaned in to offer her chocolate-covered fork for the toast. Content in the fifty-degree air with her legs dangling in the bubbling water, a long poncho over her T-shirt, and a to-go container from The Goose full of Ford’s world-famous chocolate chunk brownie in her lap, she smiled at her teammates. “I’m eating way more than my fair share of this. Are you sure you don’t want any?” She held the container toward Izzy and Bridget.

They both shook their heads. “We get to indulge in the wine and a full-body soak,” Bridget pointed out. “All you’ve got for the next little while is chocolate. Enjoy it.”

“I’m going to be fat,” she replied but stuffed another incredible bite into her mouth.

“Weight gain goes with the whole having-a-baby deal,” Izzy said.

“I’m going to be more than pregnant.” She ate another bite of brownie and circled her empty fork in front of herself from neck to hips. “Fat.”

“You’re eating for two,” Izzy justified, her big, brown eyes sparkling in the soft lights scattered around the patio.

“Tonight, I’m eating for four.”

“How do you figure?” Bridget asked and sipped her wine.

She pointed her fork at Izzy. “One,” then at Bridget, “two,” then at herself, “three” and at her belly, “four.”

Izzy laughed. “Okay, maybe you are getting more than a double serving, but hey, we’re celebrating.”

“Damn right,” Bridget agreed and lifted her glass again. “And as much as I love hanging out with you girls no matter what the activity, I’d much rather be here, doing this, than over at The Goose trying to learn the difference between a garter stich and a stockinette.”

“It’s not so hard,” Lilah insisted, but a mental picture of those big, manly men sitting together, fumbling through their first efforts, made her smile. “All it takes is a good set of instructions, some time to devote to learning, and little patience.”

“Yeah, that last part? Not my strong suit.”

“I actually do want to learn,” Izzy said, “but now’s not the time. Between getting up to speed on Hoop’s law practice and studying for the bar exam—”

“And learning how to win at paintball,” Bridget added.

“And that,” she acknowledged, “my brain is full.”

Lilah nodded. “I can teach you whenever you want. You both must be really relieved we didn’t lose today.”

Izzy gave a cocky shrug. “I knew we’d win.”

“Me, too,” Bridget said.

“You two never had a doubt? I did. You’re a great shot,” she said to Bridget, “but Izzy and I are…” She lifted her hand, palm down, and rocked it back and forth like a canoe on a lake in the sign for “so-so.” “How were you so sure?”

Bridget and Izzy glanced at each other like co-conspirators. Both women wore distinctly sly smiles.

“What?” Lilah asked, looking from one to the other, feeling like the slow child in class.

“We had it won as soon as Izzy picked their team,” Bridget said.

“Because Trace would never shoot Izzy?” Lilah guessed.

“Hey.” Bridget narrowed her eyes. “Are you suggesting Archer would shoot me?”

Lilah stifled a smile and returned Bridget’s glare with wide-eyed sincerity. “I think he might.”

“Oh, please.” She laughed. “He totally would. And Trace would shoot Izzy, too. He’s a competitive bastard when it comes to a bet. Which is why we resorted to the age-old distraction of T&A,” she admitted without shame. “All’s fair in love and war, and we had to eliminate Archer and Trace without any enemy paint landing on you.”

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