The guys are all now touching me in some way, connecting us in this moment. Pain slices through my heart.
The fragility of our situation smacks me in the face. Only one of these men is biologically the father.What’s going to happen once we find out who that is?
Grayson told me where he stands with everything, but will that still stand true if the baby isn’t his?
What kind of future can we have in this strange friend zone with lingering pieces of what we had before? Could it ever be more?
I can’t dwell on all this right now. I need to focus on the three wonderful men who are here at my side.
They arehere.And we’re going to have a little girl.
“Oh,” I say, loudly. My hand flies to a spot on my stomach.
Grayson’s head twists to the right to look at me, while he continues to drive. “What’s going on?”
“I’m pretty sure I just felt her kick.” Wow. It feels so strange to say “her” out loud for the first time.
I glance at the backseat. Tucker and Warren are both straining against their seat belts, leaning forward.
“Really?” Tucker asks. His voice is still filled with the same awe he had in the ultrasound room.
“I think so,” I say, shrugging my shoulders.
“Like a bubble popping almost,” Warren says.
“Kind of, yeah,” I say, nodding. “I’ve felt that for a few weeks, but I didn’t really know for sure if that’s what it was.”
“I’m not surprised,” Grayson says. “She was moving around a lot in there just a few minutes ago.”
The genuine smile plastered across his face warms my heart.
“Can we feel it yet?” Tucker asks.
“Probably not,” Warren says. “She’ll need to get bigger and stronger for us to feel her. Right now, that’s just for her mama.”
Holy crap.I don’t know what it is about this pregnancy journey, but sometimes things just smack me upside the head.
I’m going to be a mom. A girl mom.
CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN
Tucker
Ugh.I internally groan watching Sienna unload grocery bags from the back of her car, ready to haul them up to her second-story apartment.
With a sigh, I climb out of my car. She doesn’t realize I’m here until I step up beside her at the bottom of the stairs.
“Oh, geez. Hi.” She goes to cover her heart with her hand, but realizes she has multiple grocery bags in it. “What are you doing here?”
“Bringing you this,” I say, holding up the body pillow I have clutched under my arm. With my free hand, I grab all the bags she’s carrying.
She snatches back one of them before moving quickly up the stairs.Compromises, I guess.
I set everything down on the dining room table before going to grab the last few things from her car.
“Thank you,” she says when I get back upstairs. She looks out the window, making sure her car locks when she hits the button on her fob.
I really wish she didn’t live in this apartment where she has to lug everything up the stairs.
