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"Agreed." I sip my water, thinking. "I’m also wondering when I should tell Maestro Cortez. I don't want to wait too late and make him think I was hiding it from everyone at work, especially since I'm still just temporary at the symphony."

Charlie's brow furrows slightly. "Are you worried about how he'll react?"

"A little," I admit. "Pregnancy discrimination is illegal, but it happens. They might start looking at me differently, wondering if I'll be able to finish covering Gloria's maternity leave." I pick at the edge of my napkin.

"You’re doing an amazing job with them," Charlie says with that absolute certainty I've come to rely on. "You're the best cellist they have."

"Andyou'reextremely biased," I point out, but I smile despite myself.

"Factually accurate," he counters. "Just like it's factually accurate that you look incredible today, and that our babies are going to be devastatingly intelligent and talented. Probably pretty damn good-looking too.

I roll my eyes, but warmth spreads through my chest. "Such flattery, Mr. Astor. One might think you're trying to get me into bed."

"Always," he says with a wink that sends heat curling low in my belly. "But I'll settle for getting you to come to one more wedding with me. For real this time. As my actual girlfriend who I'm actually in love with, who is actually carrying my children."

"When you put it that way, how can I refuse?"

He grins, triumphant, then glances at his watch. "I should probably head back to the office. Sanjay's holding down the fort, but I've got a big meeting at three."

I nod, finally putting my fork down for good. "I’ve got practice in an hour."

Charlie pays the check despite my half-hearted attempt to steal it from him, and we walk to the parking lot hand in hand. Before I climb into my truck, he pulls me close, his hands resting lightly on my hips.

"So it's a date? Anna's wedding, next Saturday at The Edgewater?"

"It's a date, handsome," I confirm.

His eyes soften as he looks at me, and then he kisses me goodbye, and I feel it all the way to my toes—the kind of kiss that makes me forget we're standing in a public parking lot in the middle of the day. When we break apart, I'm slightly breathless.

"I'll see you tonight," he promises, closing my door for me.

The mirror in Charlie's bathroom is unforgiving, revealing every hint of the changes happening in my body. My black cocktail dress pulls slightly across my stomach, the fabric stretching in ways it didn't just a month ago. I smooth my hand over the small bump, turning sideways to examine my profile.

"You look gorgeous," Charlie says, appearing in the doorway. His blue eyes flick over me appreciatively. "That dress was made for you."

"It doesn't make me look too obviously pregnant?"

"Only to someone who already knows." He steps behind me, his hands settling on my hips, chin resting on my shoulder as we both stare at our reflection. "And thankfully, cousin Anna's very visible baby bump will distract from any speculation about yours."

I laugh, leaning back against his chest. "So you were right about her."

"Apparently she's five months along. Hence the rush." He shakes his head, amused. "My mother is still pretending to be scandalized, but she can’t say much since we’re in the same predicament."

I touch up my makeup and check my profile one more time. In my opinion, you can definitely tell that I’m pregnant but it’s too late now to change. All my other dresses are at my place.

"Ready to go? We can walk since it's so nice out." Charlie checks his watch. "We've got plenty of time."

Outside, Seattle gleams under a rare cloudless sky, the Olympics visible in sharp relief across the Sound. Charlie takes my hand as we head down 1st Avenue toward The Edgewater. The hotel sits right on the water, its distinctive white structure jutting out over Elliott Bay. I've always loved its retro charm.

We cross the street, navigating around tourists taking photos of the market. Charlie steers me gently to the side as a group of kids on skateboards zooms past. His protectiveness has intensified since we found out about the twins, manifesting in a thousand small ways—a hand on my back, insisting on carrying anything heavier than a purse, constantly asking if I need to sit down.

"Your mother has been texting me baby name ideas," I tell him. "Ten times a day."

Charlie groans. "I warned you. What's she suggesting now?"

"This morning it was Amelia and August. Yesterday it was Charlotte and Charles Junior."

"God, not Charles Junior." He shudders dramatically. "Our son would never forgive us."