Page 49 of Sweetly Yours

This wasn’t part of the plan, but maybe it’s exactly what was meant to happen.

The next day, after the bakery closes, I set my plan in motion. If there’s one thing I know how to do, it’s bake—and if I’m going to tell Brock he’s going to be a dad, I’m doing it my way.

Frankie snoozes in his little bed near the counter as I work, the kitchen warm and filled with the scent of sugar and vanilla. I’ve baked thousands of cookies in my life, but none have carried as much weight as these.

I pipe the final touches onto the sugar cookies, my hands steady despite the butterflies in my stomach. A little heart here, a swirl there. Perfect.

Each cookie is decorated with a message:We’re having a baby,Daddy-to-be, and my favorite,Your little peanut is baking.

Once the cookies are done, I arrange them in a simple white box, tying it with a soft blue ribbon. My stomach flips as I take a step back and stare at it. This is it.

By the time I pull into Brock’s driveway, the nerves are in full swing. I take a deep breath, clutching the box tightly as I climb out of the car and head toward his workshop.

The sound of sanding reaches my ears before I even open the door, and when I step inside, I find him at his workbench, his back to me. He’s focused, his muscles flexing under his t-shirt as he smooths the edge of a wooden chair.

“Hey,” I call out softly, and he turns immediately, his face lighting up when he sees me.

“Hey, baby,” he says, setting the sander down and wiping his hands on a rag. “What brings you here?”

I hold up the box, my heart thundering. “I made you something.”

His brow quirks as he steps closer, his curiosity piqued. “For me? What’s the occasion?”

“Just... open it,” I say, handing it to him.

He unties the ribbon carefully, his strong hands steady as he lifts the lid. When he sees the cookies, his eyes widen, and I watch as he takes in each one, his expression shifting from confusion to realization.

He picks up the one that saysWe’re having a babyand stares at it, then looks up at me, his mouth slightly open. “Willow... are you—”

I nod, tears brimming in my eyes. “I’m pregnant.”

For a second, he doesn’t say anything, just looks at me like he’s trying to process what he just heard. Then, in one quick motion, he sets the box down and pulls me into his arms, lifting me off the ground as he kisses me.

“You’re serious?” he asks, his voice thick with emotion as he sets me back down, his hands cupping my face.

I nod again, laughing through my tears. “I took three tests. All positive. You’re going to be a dad.”

His eyes shine, and a wide smile spreads across his face. “Holy shit,” he breathes, pulling me into another hug. “We’re having a baby.”

“We are,” I whisper, resting my head against his chest, listening to the steady thrum of his heartbeat.

He leans back, looking down at me with so much love it makes my knees weak. “You’re amazing, you know that?”

I laugh, wiping my eyes. “I don’t feel very amazing. I’ve been a nervous wreck all day.”

“Well, stop being nervous,” he says, kissing my forehead. “This is the best news I’ve ever gotten.”

I smile, my hands resting on his chest. “You’re really happy?”

“Happy?” he says, shaking his head. “Willow, you’ve already made me the happiest man alive. This... this just makes it even better.”

My chest feels full to bursting as he leans down and kisses me again, his hands resting on my waist.

“You and me,” he says softly, his forehead resting against mine. “And now this little one. I don’t need anything else.”

Frankie barks from the corner, making us both laugh, and Brock glances down at him. “Alright, Frankie,” he says with a smile. “You’re going to have to share her now.”

I laugh, swatting at him lightly. “He’s fine with sharing, as long as he still gets his cookies.”

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