Avery and I were slowly moving into Callan’s house, waiting to move the larger items until my lease was up in a couple months. Avery chose her room—the one she slept in the night of the fair. The baby would get the other one.
It felt surreal even thinking those words.
Our baby.
“Where is Brandy anyway?” Oakley asked, changing the topic.
Lettie shrugged. “Probably with some guy she met at the fair.”
“You think?” I didn’t peg Brandy to be the dating around type of girl.
“If she’s not, we need to set her up on a blind date,” Oakley said.
Lettie’s eyes popped wide, pointing at Oakley. “That is a brilliant idea.”
“But with who?” I couldn’t even begin to guess Brandy’s type.
Behind me, the front door opened, Callan appearing as he closed it. “Hey, guys.”
“Hey,” Lettie and Oakley said in unison.
He walked up behind me where I sat in the end chair at the dining table, wrapping a single arm around my shoulders as he pressed a kiss to the top of my head. My hands instinctively wrapped around his forearm.
“I got your stuff,” he murmured against my hair.
“Thank you.”
“What stuff?” Lettie asked, eyeing the plastic bag in his other hand.
“Pickles and peanut butter.” It was currently the only thing I was craving aside from cheesy noodles, both of which I needed in abundance.
Lettie scrunched her nose in disgust as Oakley sent me a smile. From that look alone, I could tell that she knew. Lettie, on the other hand, was oblivious.
“Sounds like literal barf in my mouth,” Lettie said.
I shrugged. “Not everyone likes it.”
“Does anyone?” she questioned.
“Some women,” Oakley answered, doing her best to hide her knowing grin.
Callan dropped his arm, heading for the kitchen to put the items away.
“So, Cal, we’re trying to set Brandy up on a blind date,” Lettie said from her seat, looking over her shoulder at him.
He chuckled. “Good luck with that.”
Lettie crossed her arms. “I think she’d love it.”
He raised his eyebrows as he stuffed the peanut butter jar in the pantry. “I’m sure.”
“Do you have anyone we could set her up with?” I asked.
Callan closed the pantry door, moving to stand at the counter, crossing his own arms in thought.
There was a tense silence as he pondered who he could offer up, but instead of telling us the name that came to mind, he said, “I know just the guy.”
“Who?” Lettie asked, her voice rising in pitch at her excitement.
The front door opened and shut, then Brandy walked into the room. “Who, what?”
“Oh, nothing,” Lettie said before pursing her lips shut. It’d be hard for her to keep it a secret.
“Are those pickles?” Brandy asked, ignoring Lettie’s obvious, sad attempt at keeping a poker face.
“They are,” Callan confirmed.
Brandy moved toward the kitchen instead of the empty chair at the table. “Can I have one?”
“Do you want to fight a pregnant woman for them?” he teased.
Oakley couldn't have smiled bigger if she tried as Brandy swung toward me, her eyes and mouth wide as could be.
Lettie’s brows drew together. “No one’s pregnant, Cal.” She faced the table, taking in everyone’s reactions. She looked back and forth between all of us before staring at me. “Are you pregnant?”
I nodded, unable to hide my grin any longer.
“Oh my God!” Lettie squealed as Brandy and Oakley rushed to wrap their arms around me. “That’s why he got that nasty food!”
