“What did I just do in there? One: I rolled the dice that even though Trevor had a good bit of Jagermeister running through his system, he wasn’t making the shit up. Two: I banked on your ex following up with his plan. I think we got lucky.”

“I think we did too,” Emily said, looking at him. “Why didn’t you bring that up earlier?”

“I honestly didn’t remember what Trevor said until I was halfway through my little speech. I hoped my father being a lawyer would get the asshole to back down without me resorting to murdering him at the table.”

“You’d murder for me?” she asked softly.

“There’s not a thing I wouldn’t do for you, Emily.”

She draped her arms around his neck and pushed up on her tiptoes to kiss him. The temperature might’ve been below freezing, but Emily felt warm through and through as Gavin’s mouth coated hers like a glaze of honey. His heat surrounded her like a heavy down comforter. Slowly pulling away, she bit her lip. “How do we know he won’t go to the cops even though he signed that paper?”

Gavin reached for her hand and led her toward his car. Opening the door, he gestured for her to get in, but she didn’t. She stared at him, her nervous eyes waiting on an answer. He lifted his hand to her cold cheek and shook his head. “I don’t want you worrying about what he’s going to do.”

Asking that of her was like asking her not to love him, like asking her not to breathe. She was scared to death Dillon would find a way to work holes through whatever agreement he and Gavin came to. Right about the same time her heart jumped into her throat at the thought of Gavin being sent to jail, so did something else. However, this jump was in her stomach. A little flip-flop that almost made her bust out in laughter. Emily quickly placed her hand on her slightly protruding belly, and her lips turned up as another burst of butterfly wings fluttered.

“Oh my, God, Gavin,” she breathed, reaching for his hand. She slipped it under hers. “The baby’s moving. It’s moving.”

Gavin swallowed, his eyes locked on the bright smile kissing Emily’s lips. His hand shook, but not from the cold. He’d suddenly become scared, yet a surge of excitement rushed through his blood.

“Can you feel it?” she asked, her hand pressing harder against his. She giggled, leaning back against his car. “Can you?”

Gavin shook his head. “No,” he whispered, finding himself fully consumed by the undeniable happiness filling Emily’s expression. God, she looked more beautiful than ever. His heart pounded with a burst of adoration, and his fingers tingled to feel what she was. Gavin realized the decision he made tonight was the right one. Dillon had wanted to bottle up the contentment that would come from watching him and Emily squirm, but in that moment, Gavin wanted to bottle up the feeling he was experiencing watching Emily.

He also added a third moment in his life he wished he could stop time dead in its tracks.

“Did I hear you correctly?” Olivia’s brown eyes shone wide like pennies. Hand in midair, holding a bundle of French fries, she cocked her head to the side. “He’s going to be at each doctor visit with you guys?”

Emily swallowed down a bite of her burger. After taking a sip from her bottle of water, she nodded. “Yes, you heard correctly. Why do you seem so shocked? Besides, you still think he should’ve known all along.”

Olivia let out a deep, heavy sigh and stuffed the fries into her mouth. “Yeah. I think he should’ve known,” she said, chewing. “But I never said I think Dilly the small Willy should be allowed at your doctors’ visits. And you know why I said that, so please, let’s not go there again. I love you too much, friend.”

Emily rolled her eyes.

Fallon stabbed her fork into a piece of iceberg lettuce drowning in ranch dressing. “At least Gavin got him to back off the delivery room.” She swiped her tongue over her lip ring. “Everyone wins. No one goes to jail. No battles in court.”

“True,” Olivia chirped, sucking down the remains of a vanilla shake. “But it would’ve been cool to see Gavin gain some street creds.”

“Street creds?” Emily asked.

Olivia nodded. “The slammer. Joint. The clink. Crowbar hotel. The big house. Any amount of time in jail gains you street credit.”

Emily jerked her confused head back. “Liv, why would it be cool to see him gain street credits?”

Clearly trying to contain a grin, Olivia drew up a perfectly plucked brow. “Well, he already has a delectable tattoo. Adding jail time to his background can only make him hotter. I’m telling you, Em, after he got home, you’d appreciate the spectacular sex you’d get from that boy. Jail turns them into fiends.”

“Like they’re already not two sex fiends. To top it off, I remember reading that women turn into a ball of walking hormones while preggos.” Fallon nodded knowingly at Emily, her mouth puckered into a smile. “I bet you’re keeping him busy in that department.”

Ouch. Sore topic. To avoid eye contact with Fallon and Olivia, Emily plucked a fry from her plate and glanced around the cafe. Her gaze landed on a couple buckling a toddler into a highchair. Appearing frustrated by his confinement, the hyper, little blond-haired boy squeaked his displeasure and kicked the table. A chuckle from the father, a stern finger wagging from the mother, and a juice box later, the child fell into a quiet state of bliss.

Emily sighed, wiped her mouth, and reached for her purse. “Are we ready to go?”

Olivia squinted at Emily, her forehead pinched. Emily prepared for the smart-allecky statement she was sure was coming. “Holy shit, Em. You’re withholding sex from him, aren’t you?”

Yep. There it was. Cue eye roll and another sigh. “No, Liv. I’m not withholding sex from him. He’s withholding it from me.” Annoyed, Emily flagged down the bouncy teenage waitress.

With a smile, the girl approached, her brown hair secured into pigtails. “Can I get anything else for you, gals?”

“No. We’d like our check please,” Emily replied, pulling her wallet from her purse as she stood.

“Actually, I’d like to order your double fudge chocolate sundae,” Olivia piped up, staring at Emily. “Extra fudge.”

The waitress scribbled down the order. “Be right back.”

“Aww hell no, Em,” Olivia clipped, patting the chair. “You can’t just drop a bomb like that without divulging what’s not happening in your bed.” Olivia looked at Fallon for back up. “Am I right, or what?”

Fallon nodded, patting the chair too. “Completely. Sit and spill, Country.”

“You two suck,” Emily whispered as she reclaimed her seat. “What?”

“What?” Olivia parroted, blinking in surprise. “Like Fallon said… Spill.”

“I’ve already spilled. He hasn’t had sex with me since we went for my first sonogram.” Looking away, she shrugged, her chest expanding on a deep, sexually frustrated breath. “He’s afraid he’s going to hurt me or the baby.”

“What, does he have a sword for a penis?” Fallon asked. “It’s the end of February, and you two haven’t had sex since the beginning of January?”

Chin lifted, Olivia crossed her arms, accentuating the cleavage spilling out of her hot pink cashmere sweater. “For real? Are you being serious?”

Emily puffed out a sigh. “No, I’m lying. I felt like making up some ridiculous story today.” She loosened her hair from its bun. The dark, wavy curls spilled down her back. “Yes, I’m serious. He’s… nervous.”

“He’s being an asshole,” Olivia vehemently noted, accepting her sundae from the bouncy teenager.

“I agree.” Fallon dug her spoon into Olivia’s dessert. “Something’s up. Do you think he’s cheating? I mean, I’ve read that some dudes get freakish about doing the deed when their girl is preggos. Maybe he’s hitting it elsewhere.”