Page 48 of Over & Out

Hopper

“Surprise!” The words are muffled behind the front door of Tru’s bungalow in a leafy neighborhood just outside the Hollywood Hills.

My shoulders drop. For fuck’s sake. I’m late. I wait a few minutes, and when the fervor dies down, I knock on the door.

Of course it’s Tru who opens it, and when I see her face, I grimace. “I’m sorry. I was right behind them, I swear.”

“Come on, you’re only thirty seconds late,” she says.

“I missed the surprise,” I remind her.

But she just shakes her head. Her eyes, out of nowhere, well with tears, and she throws her arms around me, which is easier said than done, since the woman’s got a house growing on her front. She never would have been this forgiving before. This baby’s made her indulgent as hell.

“Happy baby,” I say. Because I have no idea what you’re supposed to say at these things.

“Oh Hopper. Thank you for being you,” she says.

Over her shoulder, I see the room is full of a dozen or so people—some friends of Tru, her husband, Kevin, plus all of my team. The house is confusingly decorated for this shower, but also the holidays, which I generally try to block out. There’s holly and a Christmas tree, but also pale pastel balloons everywhere. Kevin has the same vibe. He’s got a Santa hat on and a t-shirt that readsDad Era Loadingwith a half-filled progress bar across his belly.

But I barely notice any of that, because my eyes land on Chris, who’s coming around the corner from the kitchen, smoothing her hands on her dress. The minute I spot her, I can’t look anywhere else. And it’s not just because she freezes when she sees me. Or because she’s shooting daggers at me with her eyes. It’s because that dress is not just a dress. It’s a sundress. Sundresses are hot as hell. But on her? Fucking nuclear. The straps are barely there, the front dips down between her breasts, and the gauzy yellow fabric flows like water over every angle and curve. It’s all bright and cheerful too. Of course she’s also wearing cute little white Keds and big pink hoop earrings. I get irrationally angry, suddenly, at the California sun. I can’t wait to go back to the gray skies and heavy coats of Redbeard Cove in November. Except Chris looks good in those sweaters big enough to swallow her too.

I realize I’m struggling to breathe, and not just because I can’t stop staring at Chris. Tru won’t let go. In fact, she’s sobbing into my neck.

“Is this going to hurt the baby?” I croak through asqueezed windpipe, acutely aware of the giant roundness between us.

Tru finally lets go, taking a shaky breath but keeping her hands on my arms. “No, you big dummy. Hugs don’t hurt a baby. Sushi will, apparently. And turkey sandwiches. And a thousand other things, supposedly. But not hugs.” She snuffles loudly. “I’ve got something for you, okay? Don’t let me forget to give it to you.”

“Okay,” I say. I have never once seen Tru this sentimental.

“Honey, let the poor guy in,” Kev calls from the hallway.

Tru’s husband is a good few inches taller than her, so, thankfully, he blocks my view of Chris the next time I look, which is immediately.

“Sorry,” Tru says, walking back to her husband and throwing her arms around him. He looks at her reverently, kissing her forehead, and I’m hit with a sudden wallop of envy. Not of him and Tru, per se, but of the fact that he has all this.

I’ve never wanted to have kids. The thought has always scared the shit out of me. I had the worst male role models known to humankind. How could I not completely fuck it up if I became one? Plus pregnancy’s kind of freaky. And yet…

My eyes coast over to Chris, and I suck in a breath, because she’s holding someone’s baby. She’s rocking a tiny human in her arms. She looks fucking perfect. Natural. Motherly. Sweat breaks out all over me for no good reason. Thanks, God, for sticking your tongue out at me with that one.

“Okay, well, I’ve got a few things out in the car I need to bring in,” I say, my voice pitched high.

“Oh, that can wait,” Tru says, twining her fingers through Kev’s and resting her head on his shoulder. “Why don’t you come in and get comfortable?”

“Yeah, we’ve got a ton of food and beer. Whatever you want,” Kevin says. Then he leans into Tru. “You need anything, honey? You should put your feet up.”

Honestly I just want to come in and do the requisite time and leave. I start filming in Redbeard tomorrow, so my plan was to mope around my place. That is, to hang out in my pool, maybe with a scotch, until I have to fly back.

Like I’ve conjured her, Chris appears then. The baby’s in another woman’s arms in the living room.

She frowns as she peers down at the huge bag in my hand. “Is that all you brought?”

“No, it’s not all,” I snap back, glad to have her slotted back into argumentative assistant territory, for the time being, anyway. I don’t know what the fuck seeing her holding that baby did to me, but it was goddamned terrifying. Almost as terrifying as how when she looks at me again, my mouth goes dry and all I want to do is sweep her up and talk to her the way Kev talks to Tru.

You need anything, honey?

Tru laughs. “I see you two are getting along as swimmingly as when I left you!”

Chris and I exchange a glance.

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