Page 98 of Wild Then Wed
“I was doingwork.”
“Well, I thought you’d started hiking the Appalachian Trail.”
She flops down into the nearest chair. Elvis follows suit, curling under the table beside her foot.
Me and Sage couldn’t be more opposite if we tried.
Where I’m blunt, she’s soft. Where I’m fire, she’s water—calm, adaptable. I keep things in. She wears her heart on her sleeve. Sage is more outgoing than me, more spontaneous. She says yes to things without needing to think them through, and somehow it always works out for her. She’s fun in a way I’m not—lighter, a little wilder, the person that people naturally want to be around. Our dad used to say Sage could read a room better than anyone, that she got that from our mom. He was right.
And to top it off, we don’t even look alike. Sage has that natural prettiness people notice immediately—glowing skin, sea-glass colored eyes that nobody can really tell if they’re blue or green. Her hair’s a dark chestnut, almost black. Her lashes are thick and long and her lips are always that barely-there glossed pink.
She rests her chin in her hand, scanning the score sheet Boone’s keeping like it’s rigged, and then glances at me. “You playing next round?”
I shrug. “Probably.”
Sage perks up, already scooting her chair closer. “I’ll be on your team.”
The current hand wraps up with a lot of noise and some truly questionable math on Boone’s part. Ridge throws down his last card, and Lark groans, slumping back in her chair.
“That’s it for me,” she says with a yawn, pressing a hand to her lower back. “I’m going to turn in before I turn to dust.”
Boone stands too. “Hang on a sec—we’ve got something to tell everyone first.”
From the corner of my eye, I see Mom sit up a little straighter, like her instincts just went on high alert. She sets her wine glass down, eyes narrowing just slightly. The room hushes a little, the way it always does when Boone sounds like he’s building to something.
Lark glances at him, then smiles. It’s soft and quiet. She reaches into the front pocket of her jeans and pulls out something small and carefully folded.
It’s an ultrasound photo.
And suddenly the room isn’t quiet anymore.
Chairs scrape. Voices rise. A full chorus of“What?!”and“No way!”and“Are you serious?”explodes from around the table. Ridge is already out of his seat, clapping Boone on the shoulder hard enough to knock him forward a step.
Miller bolts upright like she’s just been personally offended. “Are you kidding me? How thehelldid you keep this a secret from me?” She steps around the table, hands on hips, then nudges Lark with her elbow. “You sneaky bitch.”
Lark just laughs, a little red in the cheeks, and holds out the photo.
Sage and I lean in to look.
It’s fuzzy, black-and-white, and so small. A tiny blur curled into itself like a comma, the faint shape of a head and the soft curve of a body not much bigger than a peanut.
Mom pulls Lark into a hug so tight I’m half-convinced she’s going to cry right there in the middle of the dining room. “Oh, honey. This is so exciting!”
“I’m only ten weeks,” Lark says. “So it’s still early. I’ve only had one appointment so far.”
Sage tucks a strand of hair behind her ear. “When’s the due date?”
“Sometime in the middle of May, I think.”
Ridge plops back into his seat with a grin. “You guys just keep popping them out, don’t you? You’re like wild rabbits.”
Lark laughs and hugs him one-armed. “That’s rich coming from a man who won’t even commit to a phone plan.”
Across the room, Miller glances toward Hudson. “You ready to be a big brother again?”
Hudson leans back in his chair, all limbs and teen exhaustion. “Maybe. If it’s another boy.”
Lark rolls her eyes. “You know I don’t get to pick, right?”
