I shook my head. “No. Not until now. Even Marj—“ I stopped. “You introduced me to Marj. Kept telling me she would be great for me.”
Oliver shrugged and set aside the folder beside my sandwich wrapper on my messy desk. “I never thought you’d knock her up. Or marry her.”
“One kind of led to the other,” I said drily.
“Yes, well, some of us know how to bag it up. Then again, you’re going bag-free intentionally now, so there’s no understanding you, brother.” Oliver rose and glanced down at me with all the paternalism being two minutes older brought to bear. “Let me try to fix this.”
“No. Absolutely not. You don’t even know what the issue is, and I’m supposed to let you sweep in and muck things up even further?”
“She’s left you without a word. What further muck can I cause?”
I had no answer for that.
“As for not knowing the issue, it’s fairly clear. You made up a nonsense reason to sleep with her that didn’t require brutal honesty, and now you’ve finally realized you’re in love with her.”
“That’s completely—” I exhaled. “Accurate.”
“Now you’ll be stuck with a kid too when all you had to do was admit you wanted to fuck her. Like she would’ve said no. That woman has looked at you with heart eyes since day one.”
“So not true. I drive her crazy. If she had heart eyes—whatever the fuck that is—she wouldn’t run away from me every time I get near her. It’s like I have a fungus or something.”
Oliver held up his hands, palms out. “Officially entering territory labeled ‘do not need to know’.”
I laughed again. “Oh, and the stuck with a kid part? Wrong. I want that kid with Ally more than anything. I want a family with her. Goddammit, we already are a family, and I want it to be official.”
Oliver shook his head. “Oh no, you don’t. I already reached my wedding quota with you, pal. One was awful enough. Another would be beyond the pale.”
“I didn’t say we were getting married. Yet.” But now that the idea was rattling around in my head, I had to admit it wasn’t displeasing.
She was having my baby, assuming all went to plan. Why not be my wife too?
“Why not?” I repeated under my breath while my brother gazed at me as if I’d grown horns, a tail, and sprouted red skin.
“Before you hear wedding bells, Romeo, you need a bride. Yours is currently MIA. I offered to help you, but if you’re so certain you can continue to bungle this all on your own, then fine.”
“Seth!”
We both glanced toward the doorway as Sage scuttled into the room. Actually, that was a misnomer. A few days ago, Sage might’ve scuttled. Her self-confidence seemed to waver with the tide, and she often seemed content to hug the wall.
Today was a different story. She walked into my office with her head held high and her assets swaying. Visibly swaying in her tight denim miniskirt and a top that barely covered her breasts. Not that I paid overmuch attention. Sage was a cute girl—and I imagined she had gotten more than her share of catcalls on her way over here in that outfit—but my eyes were solely for Ally.
Now and forever.
“What are you wearing?” Oliver demanded, shocking me almost as much as Sage, who apparently had just noticed he also was in the room. She’d zeroed in on me at my desk like a laser pointer.
“Pretty sure they’re called clothes.” She sniffed at Oliver and returned her attention to me. “Ally hasn’t been to work for three days. She hasn’t been at your house so you can impregnate her, has she?”
My eyebrows lifted. So much for assuming Ally had employed discretion regarding our activities. Thanks to Ally sharing with the diner patrons her comical observations about my prowess the day after we’d first had sex, I’d understood it was known that we were lovers. But being lovers didn’t mean babymaking necessarily.
“What has she told you?”
“Are the private details besties confide in each other really important?”
“I’m her best friend, and yes, they are.”
“No, you’re the best friend with a dick, which automatically slots you lower on account of the dick.”
“She likes my dick, thank you very much.”