Page 72 of Wrong For You

“Sausage and green peppers,” I reply.

Harper’s brows wing upward. “You don’t like green peppers.”

“But you and Syd do.”

Rylee winks at the speechless blonde. “How about drinks?”

“Chocolate milk please,” Syd requests.

“I’ll just have a Coke.” My focus turns to Harper after I order.

There’s an expectant pause before she says, “Grease Monkey for me.”

“Great choice. I’ll put sugar on the rim so he’s extra sweet.”

Harper clucks her tongue to deny the suggestion. “Nah, I think he’s better with bitters and salt.”

“The sour edge does keep things more interesting,” the bar owner notes.

A pleased rumble rolls off my chest. “That sounds promising.”

While distracted by Harper’s specified preferences, I fail to notice Sydney’s eyes locked onto Rylee’s midsection. “Are you having a baby?”

I cough over her comment. At least she’s adorable and can get away with it. But still. “Sydney Grace, we’ve talked about this. That’s not a question you’re supposed to ask. Remember the incident with Miss Tiffany?”

My daughter gives a sheepish shrug. “That wasn’t my fault. She said there was a food baby in her belly.”

“That just means she’s full.”

Syd’s attention returns to Rylee who’s busy trying not to laugh. “Did you eat too much?”

The redhead nods. “I did, but I’m also pregnant.”

“Told you so.” Sydney’s sass is aimed pointedly at me.

“Lucky guess, Boop. Please don’t make it a habit.” Or a disgruntled mob of women will be pounding down our door. My gut clenches at the visual.

“Congratulations,” Harper croons at the expectant mother.

“Thanks.” Rylee rests a palm over the small swell. “We’re having twins.”

Syd’s expression pinches. “What’re twins?”

“There are two babies in here,” Rylee explains while pointing at her stomach.

“Two babies?” Her awe shouts to the opposite end of the restaurant. “How did that happen?”

“Gage and Payton have a theory.” She points to her kids in the designated play area. The pair appears to be in the middle of an imaginary sword fight.

Sydney gasps and leaps from her seat. “I’m gonna find out where babies come from.”

“I apologize in advance,” Rylee rushes to say.

Before I can question why, she scurries off like trouble is chasing her. “What the fuck was that about?”

“Should we be worried?” Harper’s focus is zeroed in on the trio huddled in a tight formation.

“They’re just kids. What harm can come from them exchanging a few stories?”

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