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“I only fainted once.” She aimed an affectionate scowl at me. “Hawk’s a sharp guy. I shouldn’t be surprised.”

“Other than them, we’ll keep it to ourselves. As long as we can.”

We pulled into the long drive to Heartstone, signs of spring everywhere in the daffodils pushing through the soil, the pale green buds on the trees.

Hawk had been too busy with security to do much with the grounds yet. He’d hired a few guys to clean things up, but so far, that was it. Still, the signs of spring, of new life, welcomed us home.

Just before the turn to the garage, I pulled to a stop, my eyes narrowed on the late-model black sedan parked in the courtyard right in front of the stairs to the front door.

“Is that—?”

“Uncle Edgar’s car,” Hope confirmed. “He knows.”

“Looks like it. Do you want me to tell him to leave?” I turned down the lane to the garage and waited for Hope’s answer.

She took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “No. I haven’t gone this long without seeing Uncle Edgar since he brought me home. Maybe that was for the best, but I think I’d like to see him now.”

Savannah met us in the back hall by the mudroom. “Your Uncle Edgar is here,” she said to Hope. “I put him in the family gathering room. I didn’t think you’d want him in your office unsupervised and that’s the only other room on the first floor that’s fully furnished aside from the dining room. Do you want me to bring in a tray? Tea and cookies?”

I looked to Hope. My instinct was to tell Edgar Daniels to get the hell out of my house, but it was Hope’s call. “No tray. I don’t think this will take long.”

Edgar rose when we entered, his sharp eyes taking in Hope, absorbing the sight of her as if he’d missed her. I didn’t feel too sorry for him. He could have called or stopped by or bothered to acknowledge her existence at all since the day she’d walked into his office to find herself replaced. He hadn’t, so my sympathy wasn’t running high.

Hope crossed the room to kiss his cheek, gripping his weathered hands in hers. “How are you, Uncle Edgar?”

“Not as good as you, I hear. You two have something to tell me?” His gaze flicked between the two of us, expectant. Just short of demanding.

I looked to Hope. Edgar wasn’t on my short list of people to tell about our pregnancy, but I wouldn’t stop Hope if she wanted to share the news. Especially since my bet was that Edgar already knew.

Hope hesitated before she made up her mind. She sat on one of the overstuffed couches that flanked the huge fireplace, the flames merrily burning. Smoothing her hands over her knees, she said, “We’d like to keep it quiet for now, but Griffen and I are going to have a baby.”

“Good news, good news.” Edgar rubbed his hands together, a satisfied smile crossing his face.

“I’d like to know why it’s so important to you,” Hope asked slowly. “You haven’t even talked to me since Griffen and I got married, but you told Griffen to get me pregnant. What does it matter? Why do you care?”

“Don’t be ridiculous, girl. Of course, I care. Raised you, didn’t I? Got you settled with a good husband. The one you wanted—” The old bastard actually tilted his head and winked at Hope. Winked.

I wasn’t sure I’d recover from the sight of gruff Edgar Daniels winking. I didn’t even mind that he was admitting he’d maneuvered Hope into this position. I’d figured that out a long time ago, and frankly, if his reason was to make Hope happy I wouldn’t argue with it.

“Not how I planned to find myself a husband,” Hope said mildly, “but I don’t understand why it matters that we’re having a baby.”

“For one, the will,” Edgar said as if she were dense. “I know the entire Sawyer estate goes to Bryce if something happens to Griffen before there’s a child. I didn’t go to the trouble to get you hitched to him to have you lose everything to that fuckwit. And for another, because you’ll be a good mother.”

Hope straightened in surprise, but Edgar went on.

“Some women shouldn’t have children. You know that better than anyone. You’re not one of them. You’ve mothered me plenty the last twenty years. Now you have everything that should be yours. Griffen Sawyer, a baby—Though if you want to keep your husband, girl, you should throw out those jeans and put on something more appropriate.”

And right there he crossed the line. Didn’t take him long. I sat next to Hope and wrapped my arm around her waist, very blatantly closing my hand on her hip. “I would have thought you’d figured it out already, but I like Hope’s jeans. I like everything Hope wears, except those ugly suits you bought her. And I don’t think we need marital advice from a lifelong bachelor.”


Tags: Ivy Layne The Hearts of Sawyers Bend Romance