“Three years running,” I correct automatically. “She gets very touchy if people forget that.”
Wynter stops walking completely and I recognise that look instantly now.
Panic.It’s the same uncertainty that creeps in whenever she feels out of place.
Before she can retreat into herself, I close the distance between us and gently take her hand.
“You belong here,” I murmur quietly, leaning down slightly so only she hears me. “You’re more than good enough.” Her eyes flick up to mine uncertainly. “She’s not any different from us.”
“She designed Victoria Beckham’s maternity wardrobe,” Wynter hisses.
“She also eats cheese and tomato sauce sandwiches.”
Wynter blinks. “What?”
“White bread. Cheese. Tomato sauce.” I nod seriously. “Absolutely foul habit.”
A laugh escapes her before she can stop it. “You’re lying.”
“I’m not. And she’ll kill me if she finds out I told you.”
Wynter shakes her head, smiling now despite herself. Then she takes a deep breath. “Okay,” she says. “Let’s do this.”
I squeeze her hand once before leading her inside.
The boutique is bright and modern, all cream walls and gold rails, soft music drifting through the space. Jenna looks up from behind the desk. The second she spots me, her face lights up.
“Oh my god,” she gasps dramatically. “Is that actually you, Ray?” I groan internally. She rushes around the desk and throws her arms around me before I can escape. “It’s been forever!”
“You’re being dramatic,” I mutter dryly.
She pulls back, grinning. “You missed me.”
“Not quite.”
“Liar.”
Then her eyes land on Wynter. And her entire expression softens.
“Oh wow,” she says quietly. “Hi.”
I step back slightly. “Jenna, this is Wynter.” I glance towards Wynter instinctively. “We’re having our first baby.”
Jenna’s eyes widen instantly. “Oh my god,” she squeals, immediately hugging Wynter before the poor woman can prepare herself.
Wynter looks mildly terrified but hugs her back anyway.
“And I’m apparently today’s spare part,” Lucy adds, giving a small wave. “I’m Wynter’s aunt.”
Jenna immediately abandons Wynter to hug Lucy too. “Sorry,” she says unapologetically. “I’m a hugger.”
Lucy looks startled. “I gathered.”
“The reason we’re here,” I explain, “is because Wynter needs a maternity wardrobe.”
“Hardly an entire new wardrobe,” Wynter rushes to clarify. “Just things that don’t make me feel like a pregnant marshmallow.”
Jenna laughs loudly. “Oh sweetheart, you are absolutely in the right place.”