Page 92 of Made for Wilde

“Actually,” he says and reveals the t-shirt underneath, “we found out yesterday.”

The shirt is pale pink with “Girl Dad” written across the chest in bold letters.

Dana gasps. Her hands fly to her mouth.

“A girl!” she exclaims and jumps up to hug Koda fiercely. “You’re having a daughter!”

“We’re having a daughter,” I correct, and Dana immediately turns to pull me into the hug, too.

“I’m going to spoil her so much,” Dana says. Tears shine in her eyes. “She’s going to have the most amazing wardrobe and the best books and... oh, I need to start planning the nursery. Do you have a theme picked out? Colors? I know the most amazing decorator...”

“Dana,” Koda interrupts and laughs. “Breathe. We just found out yesterday.”

“Right. Sorry. I’m just so excited.” Dana wipes her eyes and smiles through her tears. “A little girl. She’s going to have you wrapped around her finger from day one.”

“Already does,” Koda admits. His hand moves to rest on my bump. “The moment I saw her on that ultrasound, I was done for.”

Dana moves back to the bar and refills our glasses with fresh drinks.

“This definitely calls for a toast,” she says. Her voice is thick with emotion. “To family.”

The word hits me like a punch to the gut.

Family.

I have one of those. Or I did, before I chose to keep this monumental secret from the man who raised me.

I can see my dad’s face in my mind, the way he looked the last time we spoke. Would he be happy about becoming a grandfather? Would he understand why I didn’t tell him? Or would this be just one more disappointment in a long line of them?

I force the thought away and push it down deep where it can’t touch this moment.

Not now. Not tonight.

“To family,” Koda echoes and raises his glass of whiskey.

I lift my cider. The bubbles catch the chandelier light like tiny stars.

“To family.”

NINETEEN

KODA

Dana pours me another whiskey.The amber liquid catches the light from her modern fireplace as she settles back into the armchair across from me.

Charlotte sleeps peacefully on the sectional beside us. Her breathing is deep and even, one hand curled protectively over her small baby bump.

The sight of her completely relaxed and trusting sends warmth flooding through my chest.

“She didn’t even make it through dessert.” Dana keeps her voice low, a small smile playing at the corners of her mouth. “Pregnancy exhaustion is no joke.”

I nod and take a sip of whiskey.

“She pushes herself too hard. Tries to pretend everything’s normal when her body’s literally creating another human being.”

“Sounds like someone else I know.” Dana raises an eyebrow pointedly. “The refusing-to-acknowledge-limitations thing must be strong in your relationship.”

I snort softly, careful not to disturb Charlotte.