Page 127 of The Merger

“I’ll try to survive,” Gannon deadpans.

“This is ruining my life already,” Tate says. “I need a drink.”

He reaches for the handle, and I hold my breath. Instead of gripping the door, his fingers go to the sonogram. He stills.

“What the hell is this?” he asks.

Gannon stands beside me, wrapping his arm around my waist.

Tate pulls the image from the magnet.

“I haven’t meant to ignore you,” I say. “I’ve just been sick.”

He turns slowly, his jaw sweeping the floor. “Hold on …”

“Tate, you’re going to be an uncle,” Gannon says.

“Is Ripley having a baby?”

“No, you fucker. I am,” I say, laughing.

“No, you’re not.”

“Yes, I am.”

“Who with?”

“Tate, I’m going to kill you,” Gannon growls.

I place a hand on Gannon’s chest to settle him down. “We wanted to tell you first. We’re having a baby.”

His eyes could not be any bigger.

“This is probably shocking,” I say. “But I hope you’ll be supportive because I love your brother.”

He sets the sonogram down and then walks toward us. He’s stunned, barely blinking as he moves around the island.

My lip quivers as I watch his reaction—the first person aside from Gannon and myself to know the news. Seeing him go through the stages of surprise, fear, and what I think is acceptance makes me want to cry.How did I get so lucky to have both of these men in my life?

He stops in front of Gannon. They stand eye to eye.

“Do you love her?” Tate asks, with a touch of a growl. It’s reminiscent of Gannon, now that I think about it.

“How do you not love her?”

Tate grabs Gannon and pulls him into a hug. Gannon stiffens for a moment before semi-hugging him back. The two of them embracing, so very different but still so similar, makes me smile.

My fiancé and my best friend.

Tate pulls away with tears in his eyes. “So, I’m the godfather, right?”

“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” Gannon says, chuckling.

“That’s why I’m here, isn’t it? Because you want me to take on the role as the favorite uncle, the one to guide your baby into its life. I mean, I get it, and I accept.”

“Only you could make this about you,” Gannon says.

“Can I call Ripley and rub it in that I know?” Tate asks, grinning mischievously. “Please?”