Page 43 of Love or Leave (Mapleton #4)

A moment later, Chelsea stood at the front with flowers in her hand. She smiled, pointed to someone in the crowd, and mouthed, "You're next."

From where he was standing, it looked like she'd pointed at Willow, but it was hard to tell. He took a step closer to get a better view as Chelsea turned around and flung the bouquet over her head.

It soared through the air and landed directly in Willow's hands.

She blinked, looked down at the flowers, then immediately turned to him with wide, playful eyes.

Max's heart thudded in his chest so hard he thought for sure someone would hear it over the music. He smiled back at her. She looked happy about the idea of marrying him, which took an enormous weight off his shoulders.

Willow bounced her way over to him and came in close for a hug. When she pulled back, she was staring down at the bouquet.

"What do you think of this?" she asked, her pretty features slightly guarded.

Max blinked. "I'm happy you caught it. I love you more than anything." Then he frowned slightly. "You know I want to be with you forever, right?"

She gave a nod and a little smile. "Just making sure."

He studied her for a second. "You look like you're feeling better," he said, reaching up and touching her flushed cheek. "You have your colour back."

"I'm not."

Max's brow furrowed. "You're not?"

She shook her head and took his hand. "Max… I took a test."

"A test?" he asked, shaking his head. What did that—

The words finally connected, and the entire room tilted.

"You—what—." He forced himself to stop for a beat and collect his thoughts. "A pregnancy test?"

Her eyes welled with tears, but she still managed a small, trembling smile.

"Was it positive?"

She gave a nod. "You're going to be a dad."

All the air left his lungs. It felt as though a giant vacuum sucked all the oxygen from the room. He stood frozen, processing, before he finally snapped out of it and pulled her into his arms.

"Holy shit," he said into her hair.

He'd lifted her off the floor and hadn't even realized.

Was that okay? Was he allowed to pick her up?

He had no idea what to do with a pregnant woman.

He set her down gently and touched her belly through the silky fabric. His kid was in there.

Their kid.

A smile spread over his face.

"I know this wasn't part of your five-year plan—" Willow started.

"Fuck that plan," he said, leaning back to cup her face. He stared into the eyes he fell in love with. "This plan's way better. We'll figure it all out."

He kissed her, deep and slow, and she melted into his arms.

"I’m buying you a ring," he said against her lips. “You’re marrying me.”

She laughed through her tears and nodded. "Yeah, I am."

Natalie stood near the dessert table with Gale and Amy and watched as Max hoisted Willow into the air, then gently set her down as if she was an antique teacup he didn't want to break.

Emotion clutched at her chest.

She was happy for them. She really was. Their group was growing.

She just wished so badly that it had been that easy for her.

Gale's hand landed gently on her back, and she shook off the feeling and forced a smile. "I'm okay," she said, before her mother-in-law could ask.

Gale and Amy nodded.

It was nice having them to talk to. Gale had opened up about her struggle to get pregnant with Ethan. And now that they'd seen the doctor, understood the problem and made a plan, she felt much better about the whole thing. Her doctor was confident that she could conceive with the right treatment.

Still, it ate away at her.

Ethan came up behind her and slipped a sparkly confetti popper into her hand. "It's almost time," he said before dropping a kiss to her head.

She smiled and let him tug her toward the dance floor where their friends had gathered.

"I've been thinking," Ethan said gently, drawing circles with his big hand along her upper back, "maybe we should tell them tonight. It's a lot to carry alone."

Natalie hesitated. It was likely old habits dying hard—bottling up her feelings and suffering alone and never showing vulnerability and running when things got too tough.

In some ways it was easier to keep things to herself, but easier wasn’t necessarily better, and she didn't need to do that anymore.

She had family, friends, and, most importantly, Ethan. A whole group of people surrounding her, loving her.

She squeezed his hand and nodded. "Okay. Let's do it."

They reached the group just as Adam was handing out plastic hats and tiaras and tiny noisemakers.

Cara gave Natalie a long look, tilting her head. "Hey, you good?"

Natalie took a deep breath. "Yeah, I mean… not really."

Her eyes scanned their little group—her sister the bride, glowing next to her groom, Willow clinging to Max's arm, Cara nestled against Antonio, all of them looking back with concern.

And love.

Her eyes filled and Ethan's arm came around her shoulders, strong, sure.

"We saw a fertility doctor last week," she said. "We've been trying since our wedding and… we're starting treatment after the holidays."

Her friends didn't skip a beat. They all moved in unison toward her and pulled her and Ethan into a group hug in the middle of the dance floor. Arms wrapped around them as they all whispered their love and support.

The weight she’d been carrying left her shoulders and her eyes overflowed, but they were good tears. Hopeful tears.

The lights overhead dimmed, and Adam's uncle David began the countdown to the new year.

"Ten… nine… eight…"

The group separated, but Ethan stayed close. "Whatever happens, we've got this. You and me."

Natalie swallowed the lump in her throat and leaned into him. "I love you."

"Seven…"

"I love you, too."

She smiled at him and glanced around. Chelsea laughed as Adam put a tiara on both their heads.

"Six… Five…"

Cara giggled as Antonio covered her face with kisses.

"Four… Three…"

Willow whispered something to Max that made him pull her protectively into his arms.

"Two… One…"

Ethan's blue eyes smiled at her like she was his universe.

"Happy New Year!"

Natalie leaned in and kissed her husband.

The new year had begun. And with Ethan by her side, and surrounded by her friends and family, she knew she could take on whatever lay ahead.

Authors Note: You gotta know by now that I can't resist a bonus scene! Here's one from Brin's POV. She's getting her own story in a spin-off series. Enjoy!

Brin had spotted David Hartley the second she walked into the country club—he was impossible to miss. All incredibly wealthy men were. And she was no stranger to incredibly wealthy men.

She'd seen enough bespoke tuxedos that cost more than her yearly net profit at the café and smelled enough custom colognes designed by the best noses in Paris to spot the billionaire—trillionaire?—in the crowd.

There was a time when a high net worth and a three-thousand-dollar haircut impressed her.

Not anymore.

She'd spent the entire evening avoiding him, staying close to her boyfriend and pretending there wasn't a Hartley among them. Perhaps she was being a bit paranoid, but she never knew who to trust.

As the hours passed, and after the ceremony, dinner, dancing, and midnight countdown were done, she’d settled her anxious thoughts and let her guard down.

That had been a big mistake.

"Brinley."

She jerked away from the dessert table and toward the smooth, cultured voice beside her. A normal person would probably welcome his presence. But she wasn't normal.

She popped a mini gold-flecked chocolate chip cookie into her mouth and chewed with a fake smile. "That's me," she said with a smile.

Hartley raised an eyebrow, but only for a second. It was enough to worry her, though. Did he know?

"I was looking forward to stealing a moment of your time."

Okay. He definitely knew.

"Stealing?" she said with a humourless laugh, her entire body shifting to defense. "Interesting choice of words."

He had the decency to pale. "I didn't mean anything by it."

She rolled her eyes and blinked away from him, slowly turning her eyes over her shoulder to check the room. The last thing she needed was to raise suspicion.

"No one's watching us," he said. "No one who would connect the dots, at least."

She relaxed, but only marginally. Instead of saying anything, she popped another cookie and looked at him expectantly.

Get on with it.

"Do you speak with your sisters often?"

She huffed out a breath as the last bit of hope she had faded away. He knew she wasn't “Brin.”

"I'll take your silence as a yes," he said, glancing around the room.

He knew who she was, so he should know better than to try to speak with her. She wasn't supposed to discuss her past with anyone. Court orders.

"And Westley? Do you speak to him?"

Her head pulled back, stunned. It had been a very long time since she’d heard that name. Did he know about Wes?

He couldn’t have. No one knew.

Except her and Wes.

She huffed out a breath and looked away, wondering if she'd have to tell David Hartley to fuck off right there under the fairy lights.

Hartley seemed to take the hint. He looked across the room and backed into the shadows of the dessert table. "Are things with Jake serious?"

She stared at him, back pressed into the corner, looking uncomfortable. Wealthy, powerful men never slunk back into shadows. What the hell was this?

She should have walked away, but this was too intriguing. And concerning.

"Why would you care about the seriousness of my relationship with Jake?"

She suspected he was in contact with Wes. She wouldn’t have been surprised. Was that what this was about?

Hartley's shoulders rounded slightly. "I'm trying to help you. It might be difficult to move forward with Jake."

What the?

She stared at him, wondering why the hell he would try to help her. Then she remembered what her middle sister had said once, about her suspicion that someone “untouchable” must have been helping them behind the scenes. Had it been David Hartley the whole time?

She looked at him, backed into the corner, glancing around like he was some common street dealer.

"You stepped in back then, didn't you? You bought the café?"

He waited a beat, then nodded.

"Why?"

"Your mother asked me to," he said, his eyes going soft. "I've never told her no, and I'd never let her down."

She didn't even try to hide her surprise.

Her eyebrows shot up so fast and stayed up for so long that her eyes went dry.

She'd long suspected the “untouchable” that was helping was Wes.

It was actually a relief that Wes wasn't involved.

She wanted to believe it, but there was a giant, gaping hole in Hartley's story.

"My mom passed before any of this came to light."

He nodded. "She had suspicions about your dad for a while, though. When she got sick, she asked me to look out for you three."

"Why you?"

He held her gaze. "She knew how much I always loved her," he said.

His eyes dropped to his shoes briefly. She couldn't believe what she was hearing—or seeing.

"It killed me when she married your dad."

She had to tell herself to pick her jaw up off the floor. All these years and she had no idea. Her mom never once gave any sign that she'd been involved with David Hartley.

"This is so far beyond…" she trailed off as the speechlessness sank in.

What in the world?

He gave a wince. "I know you don't know me," he said. "And what I'm about to say might sound kind of… odd… but I always hoped your mom would leave your dad and that she and you and your sisters would be with me. But after she got sick…" He trailed off, his eyes showing heartbreak.

"Sorry," she said, not knowing what the hell to say. Never in a million years would she think she’d be giving words of condolence to David Hartley over her mother’s untimely death twelve years ago.

Hartley gave a nod, then stood up straighter and squared his shoulders as if he just remembered who he was.

"If you or your sisters need anything—ever—I’d like you to reach out to me. And I know that Westley—"

"Stop," she said, cutting him off. "I'm not sure how much you know, but I will not talk about Wes—him."

She caught sight of Jake across the room. Her sweet, caring, honest, and incredibly normal boyfriend. He was her future, and she was solely focused on him.

She turned back to Hartley and gave him a genuine smile. "Thank you for helping us," she said. "And for telling me about your involvement. You've eased my mind about things."

Hartley gave her a confused look, but she refused to elaborate. He didn't need to know how relieved she was to know, after all these years, that she didn't owe Wes anything.

She turned and walked toward Jake, leaving David Hartley, and memory lane, permanently closed behind her. When she got to him, Jake wrapped her in a big, burly hug. He smelled like Old Spice and felt like two-hundred-dollar commercially produced wool.

And she loved it.

"Were you talking to Adam's uncle?" he asked.

She shook her head. Lying came way too easily from years and years of practice. "Nope, just eating some cookies."

She kissed him and reveled in his rough, warm hands against the soft skin on her back. This was exactly what she needed.

She just hoped that if she and Jake ever took the next step, she wouldn't have to go too far back into her past in order to move forward.

To be continued…