“They expect us at the country club at ten.”
“But we’re telling them about the pregnancy, right?” I ask, confused about the choice of venue. “Why would they want to be somewhere so public? Did you mention or hint at the sensitive topic?”
“Shit, that’s my bad. I agreed to the country club out of habit.”
“Habit?”
“I hate going to their place. I’m sorry, Ligaya, I wasn’t thinking. I’ll call them in the morning to say we’ll meet them at the house.”
“No. That might worsen their mood if we invite ourselves. I’m sure it’ll be fine.”
CHAPTER 31
TRISTAN
She steps out, a fantasy in a forest-green dress. The fabric hugs her in a way that hints at the curve of her bump, the long sleeves studded with tiny pearls, and boots that go all the way up her knees.
My baby mama is a knockout.
“Hi.” She brushes a strand of hair away from her temple. Twice.
“You’re . . . wow.”
She laughs, cheeks warming. “That’s not a full sentence.”
“I’m speechless,” I admit, stepping closer, pulling her hand into mine. “You look incredible.”
“It’s just a dress.”
“It’s a dress worth canceling brunch for.” I pull her closer and relish the feel of her body. “You look and feel amazing. I want to keep you to myself right now. Hide you away where no one can bother us.”
She raises her brow. “You haven’t seen me in two weeks, and the first thing you do is threaten to kidnap me?”
“Technically,” I murmur into her skin while dropping tender kisses along her jawline and down her neck. “It’s seduction, not kidnapping. If you’re into it.”
Her laugh catches against my mouth. We kiss. Soft at first, then rougher. Two weeks away has left us both starving. Her hands slide up into my hair, mine settle at her waist, and suddenly I don’t give a damn about country clubs or brunch or my parents waiting.
Relishing the moment goes beyond the constant physical need to touch and kiss and make love to Ligaya. I’ve missed her in so many other ways.
Her teasing laughter and sharp intelligence are as sexy to me as her lush body. And knowing how much care and love she’s already giving our children—that’s the kicker. Ligaya has always been a formidable woman, but she’s now turning out to be theonlywoman.
“We’re late,” she says.
“We could be later.”
“Tristan,” she warns, biting her lip.
“Fine. Let’s get this over with so I can kidnap you after.”
Her laugh tinkles in the air. I’m already counting the minutes until we finish this obligatory meeting. I’ve waited long enough to tell my parents about the most important news of my life, and yet I’d happily delay.
It’s the fact that Ligaya is the woman who carries my children that motivates me to tell my parents. Now that I’m back, I can’t imagine being with anyone else, and I don’t want children unless they’re with her. That’s the truth my parents have to hear.
The drive to the country club is too short. We hold hands across the console. She hums along to the music, totally unaware that we’re about to enter potentially hostile brunch territory.
The valet takes my keys without making eye contact. That’s how they’re expected to be in places like this. Old-money exclusivity demands a practiced reverence I’ve always hated. Ligaya is neither impressed nor intimidated by the surroundings. She displays an observant curiosity that I’m drawn to. It’s like seeing things for the first time through her eyes, no resentment or judgment.
My parents, on the other hand, could hover between being resentful and judgmental all day long.
