Page 82 of My Three Rivals

Again, I had to stare at Atticus, shaking my head. Sometimes, it was like he knew me better than I knew myself.

“I’m not—” I started to argue, but he started to shoo me out of the kitchen, taking me by the shoulders to lead me into the dining room.

“You’re doing too much,” he said firmly. “Between the shelter, the vineyard, and maintaining the house while we’re off dealing with Suncrop all day. Come on, I’ve got dinner. It’s the least I can do, Little Fire.”

“Like you’re not doing too much!” I tried to protest, but it was useless.

He winked at me, and I didn’t fight, knowing how much he liked being in the kitchen. It was his stress relief, and I wasn’t going to take it away from him.

Wyatt and Maverick were already at the dining table, the gas fireplace going without heat, candles flickering at the center of the table.

“The project has already sold ninety percent of the units, and we are not scheduled to break ground for months,” Wyatt said, as I caught them in the middle of a conversation. “I think we need to focus on that project now.”

“Sorry, Tegan,” Wyatt sighed, sitting back to glower at Maverick. “We know we promised we wouldn’t talk about business at the dinner table.”

Atticus walked in with the pork chops and potatoes.

“It’s okay,” I said as soon as Atticus finished bringing the rest of the food to the table, bread and salad with a side of asparagus and yams.

“How was your day, baby?” Maverick said lightly, changing the subject and reaching for a pork chop. “Anything new?”

“My day was interesting,” I began, causing them all to stop and look at me in surprise. I bit on my lower lip to keep myself from exploding. “I have some big news.”

“Dammit, has Kyle been drinking the merlot?” Wyatt demanded. “I thought I smelled something on him when I was out fixing the trellises.”

“Yeah, idiot, you were smelling wine in the vineyard,” Maverick retorted. “Would you leave Kyle alone? The kid beat you in chess one time, and you need to let it go.”

“That’s not true!” Wyatt grumbled, folding his arms over his chest, and I sighed, capturing Maverick’s attention.

He hung his head contritely.

“Let her speak, jackass,” Maverick snapped, concern coloring his features when he looked back at me. “Is everything all right?”

I nodded and finally allowed the smile to show. “I-I think so. I mean… I hope so…?”

“You’re freaking us out, Tegan,” Atticus murmured. “What’s happening?”

“I… I’m pregnant.”

Dead silence fell over the table as the men looked at one another, no one quite knowing how to take the news. They turned to me, blinking, all of them wanting to show happiness but unsure. My heart broke for them as I reached across for Wyatt’s and Maverick’s hands, my foot finding Atticus under the table. “We’re going to be parents, you guys. What do you think?”

Maverick finally burst into a huge grin and squeezed my hand. “I think you’re amazing,” he said honestly, kissing my cheek.

Atticus rose and hurried around to embrace me, placing his hands over my belly softly. “Hello in there,” he whispered, causing my eyes to fill with tears.

“These damn hormones,” I moaned, looking at Wyatt.

He shifted uncomfortably in his chair, clearly unsure how he felt, and I looked at the other two, nodding as I stood to join his side.

Crouching down, I took his hand. “Hey,” I murmured. “You good?”

He nodded and visibly swallowed. “I think so,” he said.

“What is it, Wy?”

I waited for him to ask about paternity or our unique living situation, all questions I had considered myself. If anyone was going to rouse these points, it would be Wyatt.

“Parents?” he echoed. “Us?”

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