Landing, meeting the rest of the Edwards, even sleeping in the same apartment as Mikey again—it was all easy as pie.
That last part was a bit surreal, though, especially with him in a bedroom two doors down, next to the nursery the clan had come together to build. The baby jungle animals playing against a cartoon rainforest backdrop on the walls is nothing short of pure perfection.
Michael slips his hand into mine, that serious tawny stare still making my heart flutter. “You belong in there, with me, do you understand?”
“Last time you said those words, my life turned upside down in the best way possible,” I whisper. A smile spreads across his face, and wicked delight creeps into his gaze.
“So, I’m like your super-sexy-fairy-godmother-baby-daddy?” He can’t stop from laughing at his own joke, and I let out an exaggerated sigh.
“Well, you did give me a pair of excessive shoes before taking me to a fancy ball,” I point out with a smile, and Michael’s grin widens.
“You ready, Rockstar?”
“No,” I reply and squeeze his hand. “But let’s do this shit.”
Part of me was expecting a dramatic silence once we open the door. What I wasn’t expecting was the chaos of almost two dozen people holding half a dozen lively conversations as they move to set tables, bring out food, run around after children, and laugh together.
“Oh, wow.” I can’t seem to keep the awe out of my voice, my eyes landing on Trista, who raises an eyebrow as her eyes focus on my hand, still firmly held in Michael’s large palm. I just shrug and hold it tighter in case he gets any ideas of letting go.
“Come on.” He chuckles at my sudden death grip on his fingers. “You wanted to meet Phoebe.”
I let Michael lead me to where Trista and the two girls I recognize from photos I’ve seen are standing, stopping on the way to give Brian a warm hug and meet Eric McAllister, Zoe’s husband, and Andrew Atkins, Phoebe’s boyfriend.
“It shouldn’t be legal for so many gorgeous men to be standing that close to each other,” I muse as we walk away, earning myself a dirty, albeit amused, sideways glance from Michael.
“Hey, Lauren. Phoebe and Zoe,” Trista introduces, pointing out each of the girls, both warming my welcome with a smile, and I wonder how Phoebe made such an ice-queen name for herself since she seems genuinely nice.
“Hi.” I smile back, turning my gaze to Phoebe, and out of the blue, it’s blurry with tears. “I wanted to say thank you for everything you did.”
“You’re welcome,” Phoebe replies, then shrugs. “Though, in all honesty, Zane and Gabe pulled most of the weight.”
“They just figured out a sneaky way to wrap it up before it got to court. You were willing to see it through, and that means a lot.” I wipe a tear that escapes the corner of my eye.
“Oh, don’t cry. Now I’m gonna cry.” Zoe sniffles, and I offer an apologetic smile.
“She’s got hormones. What’s your excuse?” Michael throws at Zoe, all the girls jumping to chide him as he laughs, and despite delivering a thwack to his chest, I laugh with him.
“You’re impossible.” I sigh with a fond eye roll.
“Just improbable.” He winks. “You good here? I need to go sit with Davey on some stuff before dinner.”
“Yeah, I’m good.” I give his hand a final squeeze before letting go.
“He always does that,” Phoebe states with affection as Michael walks toward David. “Finds a way to distract us from feeling sad.”
“I use it with Eric sometimes,” Zoe muses, “though never by pissing him off.”
“So, I admit I’m a bit surprised by how nonchalant everyone is about me being here, all things considered.” And I can’t help but wonder if it’s all an act because of the baby.
Zoe laughs. “Look at it this way. You chose the best year to get accidentally pregnant.” She points between herself and the two other girls, pausing on Trista with a teasing smile.
“True,” Phoebe agrees, gently lowering Zoe’s finger with a glare that’s, in all honesty, a bit terrifying. “Don’t get your hopes up, though. They’re giving you some space to adjust, but just because it isn’t the juiciest gossip to ever cross the clan, it’s still exciting.”
Trista links her arm through mine with a sigh. “Still, between Zoe getting married less than a year after she and Mac started dating, me jumping on a plane to China in a spur of a moment decision and eloping with Brian, and Phoebe getting back together with Andy, at least you aren’t the sole focus of attention.”
“And Andy asking my dad for my hand in marriage earlier today,” Phoebe adds, and both girls turn to her with wide eyes.
“Seriously?” Trista blinks at her. “We’ve been talking about whether teal would clash with the purple in Zoe’s hair for the past fifteen minutes. Did that specific news not seem important enough to interrupt therivetingdiscussion?”