by Anna Adams
Olivia reached for him with perfect confidence. “Let’s not say anything until Lily’s here for dinner Friday night.” She wanted to share her happiness with their little family first, in their new home. “Maybe we should tell Helene, so she won’t hear we’re getting married from the rumor mill.”
“Helene understands.” He kissed her temple. “From now on let’s concentrate on Evan and Lily and you and me.”
“We can try, but my dad’s probably already tried to rent the Sistine Chapel, and Greta will find a way to turn the ceremony into a fund-raiser. Your mom’s going to remind them both that simple things have made me happier here in Bardill’s Ridge than I ever dreamed of being in Chicago.”
“Is that true?” He kissed her until his breathing was as ragged as hers.
“What did you…” She couldn’t quite remember the question.
“Are you happier here?”
He had to ask? “My father accuses me of turning Relevance into a ‘happy rag,’ because I’m so content. I’d sing my way through town every day, except I don’t want to shame you in front of the neighbors.” She wrapped him in her arms, giving him one of Evan’s patented “big” hugs.
“Back to the family.” He lifted her hand. “Mom offered us her and my father’s wedding rings.”
Olivia pressed her cheek to his chest. “Can we take them? I’d love to use your parents’ rings.”
“I’m glad because I already accepted—but let me tell you what Evan and Lily are going to say.”
“They’ll sing with me.”
He kissed her as if he was tasting her. She couldn’t have changed much since the last time he’d kissed her, but he reacquainted himself often. “They’re going to ask when we’ll give them another brother or sister.”
“We gave them a kitten,” she said in an isn’t-that-enough tone. She reached for his wallet on the nightstand. “Time for a wager. You’re wrong, and you might as well ante up, because those two are still fighting for top spot with each other. Neither of them is going to ask for another contender.”
“Give me that.” Laughing so that his eyes crinkled just the way she loved best, he took back his wallet. “And I’ll bet whatever you want.”
“I pay for the honeymoon. I’m thinking Greece.”
“Anything except money.”
“It’s not money. It’s more like an itinerary. And we can take Evan and Lily.”
“No, I want you to myself. My mom will take the children.”
“Winner gets to decide.” She rolled over him, and a few minutes later he agreed to anything she ever wanted.
Friday night, while Zach and Evan went for Lily, Olivia decorated the dining room with strings of shooting stars and small silver bells and whistles. She prepared hot dogs for Evan, fried chicken for Lily, and homemade macaroni for both of them.
As they trooped inside, she was uncorking a bottle of sparkling grape juice. It went down a bit too sweet, but she’d iced champagne to share with Zach in their bedroom later.
“Mom?” Evan searched the room. “Is this a birthday?”
“Pretty.” Lily ran her hands through the dangling bells. “Look, Evan, more whistles.”
Zach burst into laughter. Olivia felt herself blushing. “I said I wanted it all.”
He kissed her with more joy than she’d ever dreamed of. Life was going to be good on Bardill’s Ridge. She sank against him, turning to face their bemused children.
“We have news.” Zach took Olivia’s hand and then fished something out of his pocket. He slid a simple platinum engagement ring over her finger. “We’re getting married.”
Olivia curved her hand around his. Her throat felt too tight to speak as she stared into Zach’s eyes. When he looked at her with so much unabashed desire, she tended to forget they weren’t alone.
“Married?” Lily finally sang in a delighted voice.
Turning, Olivia hugged the little girl who was quickly becoming hers, too.
“Mom, can we have a brother? ’Cause I need more boys around here.”
Evan—always on Zach’s side.
“Did you put him up to that?” she demanded as the laughing man she’d always loved kissed her nearly senseless. As if from a distance, she thought she heard Lily speaking.
“Nuh-uh, Evan. We get to have a sister next, ’cause I’m the girl, and I say so.”
ISBN: 978-1-4592-3655-4
THE SECRET FATHER
Copyright © 2003 by Anna Adams.
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