Page 48 of Own the Eights Maybe Baby
“Yes, I’ll keep it all. But this is strictly an indoor outfit for adult dress-up only,” she whispered back.
“Gotcha,” he replied with that handsome ranch hand grin that almost had her melting into a pool of enamored pineapple until another voice caught her attention.
“Hey, Georgie?” Becca chimed.
“Yeah, what is it?” she answered, in the headspace somewhere between riding her cowboy and wolfing down more pineapple cheesecake.
Becca crossed her arms and cocked her head to the side. “Are you pregnant?”
Oh no! Lengthening her grin another painful millimeter, she remembered what Jordan had said after they’d burst into the bookshop.
“How do you mean?” she asked, instantly knowing this was not the correct response.
Becca glanced at the wall of spectators, then tapped her chin theatrically. “Well, I don’t think there are many variations of being pregnant. I’ve never been pregnant, but I’m pretty sure that when someone asks if you’re pregnant, it’s a yes or no answer.”
“I can back you up, Becca. It’s a one hundred percent yes or no situation,” Maureen said as her twins giggled on the couch.
Irene rubbed her belly. “Yep, there’s no gray area on this one.”
“Not to mention, Jordan blurted out that you were expecting a baby in June,” Simon added.
“I said that?” her husband asked with a bewildered expression.
Their family and friends nodded.
Georgie glanced at Faby, and then to Jordan, who was giving heroh-shiteyes. No, not oh-shit-eyes—oh-shoot-eyes. There was the hint of a difference.
Expletive version or not, he was right.
What were they supposed to say? Again, they’d chosen to get it on before deciding what—or even if—they wanted to tell everyone.
She chewed her lip. From this moment on, they’d talk first and get their ducks in a row before starting the naughty rodeo antics.
“Am I going to be a grandfather?” Denny asked, his eyes shining with tears.
Jordan wrapped his arm around her shoulder. She glanced up and found him smiling the sweetest smile.
The smile of a proud expectant father, and her beauty queen facade melted away.
“Yes, you are. Jordan and I are expecting a baby,” she answered.
The big man stood and ushered her to the couch.
“Sit, Georgie! Let’s get you off your feet. You can take my seat. And Jordan, let’s get you settled next to your wife,” the man said, wiping a tear from his cheek.
“When did you find out?” Maureen asked.
“This morning,” Jordan answered.
Irene and Will sat down on a loveseat across from them, and while their friends appeared happy, worry flashed in Irene’s eyes.
“How far along are you?” Maureen pressed.
“Eight weeks,” she answered with a nervous cringe.
“That would mean…” Maureen began, but the twins cut her off.
“That Georgie was pregnant when she got married!” the girls exclaimed.
