The next round of hugs come from Ethan’s parents. His mom squeezes me a little too tight and too long, but I don’t mind. When Emma and Garrett join us a minute later, she receives the same treatment from their mom.
She’s feeling sentimental today, and that’s understandable. She missed Sophia’s last two birthdays, and she’s shedding an occasional happy tear over the fact that she won’t be missing any more of them.
Garrett seems to think his mom is being a bit theatrical, so she reminds him for the millionth time, “We’re supposed to be spoiling her, she’s our only grandchild… for now.”
All of us laugh off this very blatant hint. My laugh comes up a little erratic and forced, but thankfully, it dissolves into the other sounds of the birthday party raging on all around us.
We all splinter off after that. Their parents wander off to refill their drinks, Garrett pulls Ethan aside to talk shop, which leaves Emma and I to occupy the picnic table. She slides into the seat across from me, looking all fresh and glowy from her honeymoon to The Dolomites in Italy.
I glance down at the wedding band on her finger and smile. “I still can’t believe you married your boss.”
Her laugh is closer to a snort. “Well, it looks like you’re next. We’re going to be sisters after all.”
“Ethan and I aren’t even engaged yet,” I remind her.
“Oh please. He already took you to pick out a ring.”
“But he hasn’t proposed. It could be years before he does…”
Emma drops her chin, giving me an incredulous look. “Right. That sounds like Ethan.”
Okay, that’s fair.
Ethan has put his days of being Denver’s Most Eligible Bachelor far behind him. These days, he’s made it perfectly clear to everyone we know that he’s crazy about me and only me. I’m convinced the only reason he hasn’t proposed is because he hasn’t found a grand enough way to do so yet. Whatever he’s planning, I’m thoroughly scared. I’d be happy for him to pop the question while we’re lying in bed or cuddled up on the sofa, honestly.
“Okay, so maybe notyears,” I concede.
Emma laughs. “It better not be. We need to have kids at the same time so they grow up together.”
I nod and force a smile. Emma notices, squinting as she evaluates my odd behavior.
“Wait… is there something you’re not telling me?” she asks, tilting her head to one side.
For a second I think she might be onto me. Then I realize that she’s staring pointedly at my left ring finger, as if she’s trying to discern the start of a tan line. She thinks we might secretly be engaged.
“No,” I laugh, shaking my head. “Of course not. I’m sure Ethan and I will get engaged soon. Don’t worry.”
When I glance over at Ethan, our eyes connect and he smiles. My heart swells a little, and I realize just how badly I want to marry that man. Then I look around the yard at all the people who have embraced and supported us—his parents, Emma, Garrett, Sophia, and even Rachel—and I feel… settled. Whole. Like everything is happening exactly as it’s supposed to, exactly when it’s supposed to.
By the time we get home, I’m exhausted but buzzing, my pulse racing in my veins. Ethan drops his keys in the bowl by the door and tugs me against him, lips brushing mine.
“You okay?” he murmurs.
I nod, and my stomach flutters as I look up into his eyes. It’s now or never.
My chest expands, swelling against his as I take a deep breath. “I know this is a little out of the blue,” I say quietly. “But, um, you know how we’ve talked a little about having a baby? I was wondering if maybe… you would want to start trying soon?”
My nerves go wild. This is the worst possible way to bring it up. What if he says he isn’t ready? Or worse, that he’s changed his mind entirely?
Ethan pulls back, searching my face. His eyes soften as the corners of his mouth tilt into a smile. “I’m ready whenever you are.”
“Really?” My smile wobbles into place.
He nods, brushing some hair back from my face.
“Okay, can you just…” I pull away from him. Ethan gives me a confused look. “Can you just stay right here?”
I hurry down the hall to the bathroom and open the drawer where I left it in a little plastic bag for safekeeping. My hands shake as I pick it up and stare at the small plastic stick that’s about to change everything.