Page 37 of Her Dirty Secret
I laugh, gunning the engine, and whipping around a bend. She giggles gleefully as I accelerate through a curve. “I love this car,” she cries into the wind.
And like I have every day since she agreed to be mine, I think to myself, Damn, I love this woman.
We finally arrive, only half an hour late thanks to my crazy driving.
The kids rush out to greet their favorite aunt, and I hang back, taking the presents out of the back seat. Their father’s distaste for me seems to have been passed down, as the children have never shown much interest in me. Still, I’m happy to let them crowd around Emily, knowing how much she enjoys these moments.
Serafina waddles out of the gate to the back yard, her hugely pregnant belly preceding her.
I go to her and wrap my arms around her carefully. “You look beautiful.”
She smiles up at me. “Thanks. I feel like a whale.”
Emily joins us, the children circling her. “Hey, Sera. How are you feeling?”
“She wants to get the darn thing out of her already,” Hattie, their nine-year-old, proclaims. We all laugh.
Katherine, the birthday girl, pulls at Emily’s hand. “Auntie Em, come see my princess party.”
“Oooh, princesses are my favorite,” Emily coos at her. “Which one are you, Kitty?”
The little girl, who looks so endearingly like her mother, rolls her eyes and points at her dress. “Duh, I’m the purple one.”
We all share looks of barely suppressed laughter and let the children lead us into the backyard. True to her word, it’s a princess paradise, with crowned little girls in dresses everywhere, piles of princess-wrapped presents, and a bouncy castle.
Emily leans down and scoops up the youngest, three-year-old Landon, named for Bryce and Emily’s father. She carries him along as Kitty pulls her toward the food, wanting to show off her cake. I add Kitty’s present to the pile, a little purple ukulele that Emily had made just for her.
I spot Bryce, the only man in a sea of tiny girls and a few mothers who have tagged along. Predictably, he’s manning the barbecue. And he’s dressed like a fucking prince. I roll my eyes, getting it out of my system before he notices me.
“Well, that’s a little clichéd,” I joke as I approach, gesturing at his outfit as I hand him the “present” I brought for him.
He gives me a tolerant smile, cracking open one of the ice-cold beers I just gave him. “Thanks.” He passes me one. I open it and we drink in silence.
It gets to me after a bit. “Where’s your brother-in-law?” I ask abruptly, noting Sera’s brother’s absence.
“He and his partner are traveling,” he replies, flipping a burger. “They’re taking an art tour of Europe.”
“Ah. Well, that sounds like more fun than a kid’s birthday party.”
Bryce smirks at me. “How was your trip to Paris?” he asks.
“It was great. Just what we needed. Emily was reticent to leave the music shop to her assistant, but it all went fine.”
Bryce shrugs. “I know, she wouldn’t shut up about it. But I get it. She’s worked hard to build that place. It’s her baby.”
I shoot him a look at his choice of words. I’d thought we were long over the “When are you guys getting married and having kids?” part of our lives. But I say nothing, and the big bastard just smirks back at me, letting the small needling stand. Thankfully, he says nothing further on the subject.
“When is baby number four supposed to make its appearance?” I ask, watching Sera struggle to take Landon from Emily so Emily can help Kitty open her present. Bryce and Emily’s mother appears suddenly, wrestling the little guy away as the ukulele appears and they all fawn over the gift.
“A few weeks,” he murmurs, watching his wife. “But damn if she doesn’t look good pregnant.”
I roll my eyes, knowing he’s paying no attention to me.
“I saw that.”
I laugh and shake my head. “I’m going to go help the women.”
“With what?”