Page 24 of Knocked Up in Alaska

“Me? Really? Up until Ford took Izzy out, I thought she was going to capture the flag.”

“Uh-uh.” Bridget leaned forward and pointed at her. “No, young padawan. It was always going to come down to you. You and Ford.”

“But…why?” For some silly reason, her heart started to beat a little faster.

Izzy and Bridget exchanged that look again. “Because,” Izzy said, “Ford would never shoot you.”

She stared at her friends for a stunned moment, then let out a weak laugh. “Oh, right. Because I’m pregnant.”

“Eh.” Bridget’s noncommittal reply kicked her heart rate up another notch. “That factored, sure, but…” Bridget scanned her face, almost searching. “Do you really not know?”

Her pulse started to echo in her ears. She closed the brownie box and set it aside. “Know what?”

“Bridget.” The low warning came from Izzy. “Don’t meddle.”

A thought suddenly struck. “Oh. You mean because of his past? Yes, I do know about that. I didn’t realize you knew, but of course you do. You and Ford are good friends. And I see what you’re getting at. He feels protective of me, because of Mia.”

Bridget’s mildly exasperated expression clouded with confusion. “Who’s Mia?”

Huh? “Mia’s the baby.”

Now her friend’s eyes widened, and she jumped up. “Oh my God! You found out the sex—I knew it was a girl. I had an inside track on that. You’re naming the baby Mia?”

For reasons she couldn’t explain, she covered her stomach with both hands. “No, I don’t know what I’m having, and I haven’t decided on names yet. Mia is…”

“It’s a pretty name,” Izzy said, suddenly talking fast and bright. “I love it. Definitely keep it at the top of the girl names list. I could use more wine. Bridget, how ’bout you? More wine?”

“Uh, sure. I left the bottle on the counter in the kitchen.”

“Come with me. I want to bring water for all of us, too, but I can’t carry everything.”

“Don’t get out.” Lilah started to rise. “I’m the driest. I’ll take care of it.”

“No. No.” Izzy was already scrambling to the side, pulling Bridget with her. “You’re not on the clock at The Goose. You sit and enjoy a privilege of pregnancy—people waiting on you.”

The next thing she knew, her friends were out of the tub, wrapped in towels, and heading through the white French doors into the house. “Hang tight,” Bridget called from the door. “Be right back. Here.” She held the door open a moment longer to let the Shanahan’s Husky-Malamute mix dart through. “Key will keep you company.”

“Ri-rah!” he barked and bounded to where she sat.

“Hi, K’eyush. Hi.” Laughing, she evaded the wettest of his kisses and rubbed his cheeks. “How’s my handsome fellow?”

“Ri-raaaah.” He sort-of whimpered her name that time, turned in two quick circles, and then lay down next to her with his big, fluffy head in her lap. He turned it abruptly, booped her belly with his nose, and howled, “Aaay.”

“Yes.” When he settled his head in her lap again, she folded one hand over her belly, scratched around his ears with the other, and watched the steam rise from the water. “That’s Shay’s baby. You’re a smart boy, aren’t you?”

Honestly, the dog had been the first to know, after Shay himself. She remembered Key running up to her from the kennel at the inn after Shay’s funeral, stopping short and staring at her for a long, silent moment with his head cocked, then lifting his nose to the ceiling and howling Aaay in such an insistent way. At the time, she’d simply thought he was crying for his daddy, as Key had been Shay’s, but as time passed, she’d come to realize that he’d somehow sensed the life inside her—maybe heard the little heartbeat with his keen ears or smelled the new combination of DNA—and recognized Shay’s part in it.

Those plaintive howls hadn’t done much to bolster her confidence in her ability to keep the pregnancy under wraps until she figured out what the hell she was going to do, but the dog had turned out to be more perceptive than most of the humans around her by a good six months.

Two humans she credited with better-than-average perception returned to the patio, carrying refilled wineglasses, bottles of water, and extra towels. Bridget handed a fresh bottle of water to her before placing her own water and wine on the surround and lowering to sit on Key’s other side, dangling her legs in the tub. “Whew.” She looked up at the dark, starless sky, extended her long, toned arms toward it in a lazy stretch. “I need a break from the heat.”

“Not me.” Izzy arranged her drinks, dropped her towel, and slid back into the tub, closing her eyes as the warm water surrounded her. “I love Captivity, but I do miss endless sunshine and spring temps in the high seventies.”

Lilah couldn’t imagine but still sympathized. As a native of southern Nevada, transplanted to Los Angeles for college and career, Izzy’s blood hadn’t yet had much of a chance to thicken.

“No sunshine for you,” Bridget warned, now eyeing the dense, dark sky. “I spy rainclouds up there. My inner Doppler predicts a spring soaker before sunrise.”

Izzy opened her eyes and looked at Bridget. “How long will it last?”

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