The Lucky One (Carolina Connections Book 3)

by Sylvie Stewart

  Epilogue

  BAILEY

  Three Months Later

  “You seriously expect me to eat this?”

  Fiona just nodded, handing me a spoon.

  “Just because I’m over the morning sickness doesn’t mean I won’t puke all over this damn place,” I informed her.

  She grimaced. “Gross. Do you have to talk like that?”

  “I’m sorry, but how am I the gross one here? You just presented me with a buffet of diapers filled with melted candy bars that look like actual shit.” I gestured to the incredibly fucked up baby shower “game” Fiona was trying to get me to participate in.

  “You’re the guest of honor—you have to play the games!” she insisted.

  So far, I had tolerated having all the attendees guess how fat I was, I’d drunk apple juice out of a baby bottle, and I’d let every person in the damn restaurant rub my belly for luck. I was being pretty damn agreeable if you ask me.

  But I was drawing the line at “Name that Poop.” I’d heard rumblings about some game called “Bobbing for Nipples” that was coming up next. I assumed that would provide a bit of entertainment for the guys, at least.

  Guys, you ask? Oh, yeah. This was a freaking co-ed baby shower. I couldn’t believe Laney and Fiona had talked all the guys into coming to this shindig. Not that Jake and I didn’t appreciate the sentiment and all the effort—we really did, but it was not necessary. At all. Still, I’d tried to keep a positive attitude. Until the poop. I had to draw the line somewhere.

  “Fine,” said Fiona, finally taking her tray of shit candy with her.

  I felt a tiny bit bad. Fiona had really come through for me in more ways than one in the last few months. In addition to throwing this shower, she had completely overhauled my supply of “intimates”—I was told they’re not called underwear when they cost more than ten dollars. I was looking forward to a time when I could look down past my belly and actually see the panties she’d purchased for me. But Jake assured me they were hot, so I was good. I had drawn the line at more thongs, however.

  As if that weren’t enough, she made a few calls on my behalf and I had an upcoming interview with the MFA board at the art school. Turned out Anton’s arrogance and general douchebaggery had lost its charm with the board, and his opinion wasn’t welcome anymore.

  I think we all took more than a little pleasure in the knowledge that Anton was finally being given the true “starving artist” experience he’d championed for me. Laney said she’d give it about six months before we spotted him working at a Starbucks. I was thinking she was probably not wrong.

  At any rate, Fiona had really gone above and beyond for me. I knew from past stories that she liked to play fairy godmother—her words, not mine—and I was now apparently one of the god-children or something like that. Whatever we were to each other, I was certainly grateful to have such a generous friend.

  As for art school, I didn’t know how I would swing it if I did get in, but having the chance was thrilling on its own. And as with everything, Jake and I would figure it out.

  Laney approached, laughing. “Don’t worry about Fiona. I told her nobody would want to eat that shit.” I laughed at her comment and she put an arm around me. “I still can’t believe you and Jake are having a baby. I mean, I know it should have sunk in by now, but I think I’m still in shock.”

  I rubbed my ever-growing belly where Dexter rested inside. Yes, we referred to the baby as Dexter. We still didn’t know the gender for sure, but the kid’s propensity to stab me sharply in every organ led to our nicknaming the little tyke after a serial killer. What? Don’t look at me like that.

  “That makes two of us,” I told Laney, resting my head sideways on her shoulder. I was getting better at this mushy girl stuff every day.

  Gavin walked up just then. “Did I hear something about nipple bobbing?” He rubbed his hands together, his brown hair a tangled mess and a naughty grin firmly in place.

  Laney shook her head at him. “I don’t think it means what you think it does, Gav.” She patted him on the shoulder.

  We both laughed at his crestfallen look. “Dammit. Anyway, I was sent to tell you it’s time to open the gifts.”

  I gave Laney a panicked look. She knew I was not one to relish being the center of attention. She grabbed my hand and pulled me toward the table where Jake sat talking to Kelly.

  “It’ll be fine. Jake will make it okay,” she said.

  And I knew she was right. He made everything okay. He just got me. I relaxed as I made my way to my seat.

  “Hey, Irish,” Jake leaned in and kissed me as I sat. “You having fun?”

  I glowered at him. “Ha ha.”

  “The good news is I hear we only get one baby shower no matter how many more kids we end up having.”

  Did I say he got me? I’d like to retract that statement.

  He just chuckled at my look and kissed me again.

  “First come the cards and then the wrapped gifts,” Fiona announced cheerfully, all resentment from the shit game apparently forgotten. She handed Jake a small stack of cards that had been mailed to her address. These must have been the people who couldn’t make it, although I couldn’t imagine squeezing in one more person.

  We were occupying a semi-private dining room at Gia. I couldn’t believe the owners were allowing us to carry on with all the games and noise, but Fiona had a way of talking people into just about anything.

  Jake proceeded to open the first envelope. He pulled out the card and a check fell from it, landing on the table. I went to grab it and discreetly tuck it away when I saw the amount written there. WTF?

  Jake read the card to himself and then looked to me with a smile. I pushed the check over so he could see it. His eyes got wide. Thankfully, no one seemed to be paying much attention yet.

  It was from Mr. and Mrs. Vaughn. They were the nice older couple who had propelled Jake’s business to a level of success he’d never anticipated. They’d been his first clients in Greensboro and had proceeded to recommend him to pretty much everyone they knew. In fact, we were invited to their daughter’s wedding this coming summer.

  Jake handed me the card.

  Dear Mr. and Mrs. Beckett,

  I hope this note finds all three of you healthy and well. A baby is such a joy and a blessing, one I hope you’ll cherish.

  I don’t think I ever told you, Mr. Beckett, but our darling Sophia is adopted. Mr. Vaughn and I never had the opportunity to have a child of our own, so we took it upon ourselves to go find our family instead.

  While you two may not have been in search of yours, it pleases me to no end to see you embrace it when it found you.

  We wish you nothing but the best in all things,

  Michael and Emilia Vaughn

  I looked up to Jake and then back to the check.

  “Holy shit. You must be one hell of a landscape designer.”

  Jake looked back at me and we both burst out laughing.

  He tucked the check in his wallet for safekeeping and we continued opening the gifts.

  I made sure I oohed and awwed, and even I had to admit most of the stuff was pretty damn cute. Jake, in turn, raved over any of the baby items that included batteries. There was lots of chatter as we opened each gift.

  Fiona made it clear she did not like being limited in her color selections since we’d decided to keep the gender a surprise—although Jake was absolutely positive it was a boy. Laney offered baby advice on the use of each practical item we received, as she was the voice of experience. And my dad announced to the room that the baby would be given an Irish name.

  He was not wrong. We just weren’t telling anybody what we’d chosen. And, in truth, the source of our chosen name was something precious to me that I didn’t want to share with anyone but Jake. That was part of the reason we kept referring to the baby as Dexter.

  As soon as I’d started showing, Jake had taken to talking to the baby, his head usually resting in my lap while he did so. He�
��d talk about me, making jokes about things I would and wouldn’t tolerate (“You’ll never have to make your bed, but you will need to close the door when you pee”), and he’d make promises to our baby—ones about love and loyalty and always keeping his word.

  And then, one day, he’d stood in the doorway of our bedroom where I’d been resting. I didn’t even notice him at first, but when I did, I had to do a double-take. No one, in my entire life, had ever looked at me the way Jake was looking at me. Not even close. When Jake had stared at me the first night we met, I’d been amazed to be on the receiving end of such a gaze. But it couldn’t hold a candle to this one. Jake was looking at me like I was…everything.

  And that’s when I knew, without a doubt, that is wasn’t about the baby at all. It was about me, Bailey Murphy of the skinned knees and stubbornness and snarky attitude—and tender heart. I was caught breathless for a moment and then Jake crossed to the bed, climbing on and placing his ear to my growing belly. But his eyes were on me when he started humming. It took me a minute to recognize the song, but once I did, I smiled.

  And not that I can carry a tune to save my life, but I started to sing along to the old Loggins and Messina song about the love a man has for his wife and the son they’re expecting. We smiled like idiots at each other when I got to the chorus and Jake took over the singing, reminding me why I loved that song so much. He had a surprisingly good voice. Yet another of the good genes I was crossing my fingers would be passed down to little Dexter.

  But he wasn’t going to be named Dexter after all. He’d be Danny. Just like the song. And if Jake was mistaken and the baby turned out to be a girl, I thought Dani worked just fine.

  “Brita if it’s a girl,” my father announced. I didn’t have the heart to tell him we were not naming our child after a water filter. “Cullen if it’s a boy.” Yeah, there was not enough time to explain vampire culture to a man in his sixties. I just mumbled to Jake that he could take the panicked look off his face and we continued with the gift opening.

  Before we knew it, the last gift had been unwrapped and passed around, and I could sit back and enjoy my drink—out of a glass this time, not a baby bottle. I was somewhat surprised that none of the boxes had held a gecko or other such reptile. It seemed I’d been forgiven for introducing Pickles to the family—either that or Laney was just waiting until the baby was born to spring one on me.

  I was just about to make my sixth trip to the bathroom when I felt someone approach from my side. I looked up and saw a red-headed woman who looked vaguely familiar.

  She appeared a tad uncomfortable. “Hi,” she greeted Jake and me. “I don’t know if you remember me. Emerson Scott? We met—”

  I cut her off, “Anton’s lawyer. I remember.”

  She grimaced. “Yeah. I’m so sorry to interrupt.” She gestured behind her to the main section of the restaurant. “I was having lunch with a friend and saw you here. I feel that I owe you an apology.”

  Jake extended his hand to her. “Jake Beckett.”

  She accepted it and continued, “It’s nice to meet you, Mr. Beckett. And it seems congratulations are in order.” She gestured to the beach ball under my shirt.

  “Thanks,” I said, still a little leery.

  “I won’t take up any more of your time,” Emerson said, smoothing the skirt of her suit. “But I wanted to give you my contact information in case Mr. Germaine ever tries to bother you again. I saw him push you, Ms. Murphy. Outside my building?”

  Jake and I both nodded, his mouth pulling tight at the memory.

  “I didn’t know what a dishonest jerk he was when I took him as a client. I don’t normally do personal injury cases. I guess I know why now.” She shook her head to herself. “Anyway, I don’t think he’ll be stupid enough to come after any of you again, but if he does, please don’t hesitate to call.” She held out her business card.

  “Thanks,” I told her, accepting the card. The way I saw it, the breadth of Anton’s stupidity was boundless so I was keeping that card in a safe place.

  She smiled, finally seeming to relax, and it lit up her face. The sound of her phone ringing in her purse caused her smile to drop the next moment. “Would you excuse me?”

  Jake and I nodded and she scurried to a corner of the room where she quickly brought her phone to her ear.

  “Who in the name of holy spank banks was that?”

  I turned to see Gavin standing across the table from us, drool practically dripping from his chin.

  I laughed. “Don’t even think about it, son. She is way out of your league.”

  Gavin’s eyes remained glued to the red-head. I worried briefly that he’d stopped breathing.

  “I’d guess she’s a good five or six years older than you, Junior. Don’t torture yourself,” Jake added.

  Gavin just mumbled something about feisty cougars and wandered off.

  “Do we need to be worried about that?” I asked Jake.

  “Nah,” he shook his head. “Let Laney and Nate worry about him. We’ve got our own troublemaker to deal with.” He ran his hand gently over my stomach. The kid kicked him in response.

  “Ow,” I said on a laugh. “You know, it’s a good thing I love you so damn much or I’d have to kill you for doing this to me.” I pointed at my protruding gut as the baby dug a foot into my ribs.

  Jake bent down and stage whispered to my belly, “Your mom likes to say things like that but she doesn’t mean them. She had to kiss a few frogs before she met her prince—they made her grumpy.”

  I huffed and smacked the back of his head. It only made him smile wider.

  “Prince, my ass,” I said, but I kissed the spot where I’d smacked him anyway. “I will admit, this falling in love stuff is not for wimps,” I confessed.

  “Well,” Jake said, bringing his face up to my level and giving me a lingering kiss. “The good news is you’ll never have to fall in love again. You’re mine and I don’t share well.”

  “I’m aware,” I said and kissed him back.

  But Jake was wrong on both counts. It wouldn’t be the last time I’d give my heart, and he’d learn quickly how to share. Because three months later, when the doctor placed a screaming ball of naked fury on my chest, I fell in love yet again. Of course, this time, it was with a girl.

  Just further proof that God has a fucking wicked sense of humor.

  ~THE END~

  Continue the series now with The Game, Gavin & Emerson’s story. Or stay tuned for an excerpt!

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  BONUS SCENE, DOWNLOAD, and SYLVIE SAYS!

  Here are three exclusive extras for this latest edition of The Lucky One:

  Print and complete this fun anagram puzzle based on The Lucky One for your chance to win a signed paperback! http://bit.ly/LuckyOnePuzzle

  Want to see how Jake and Bailey are handling new parenthood? Turn to the end of the book or click the link in the contents for this brand new, exclusive Bonus Scene!

  Get a glance into the inner workings of Sylvie’s brain as she gets real about The Lucky One in Sylvie Says (after the excerpts).

  About the Author

  Award-winning author Sylvie Stewart is addicted to Romantic Comedy and Contemporary Romance, and she’s not looking for a cure. She hails from the great state of North Carolina, so it’s no surprise that most of her books are set in the Tar Heel state. She’s a wife to a hilarious dude, and mommy to nine-year-old twin boys who tend to take after their father in every way. Sylvie often wonders if they’re actually hers, but then she remembers being a human incubator for a gazillion months. Ah, good times.

  Sylvie began publishing when her kids started elementary school, and she loves sharing her stories with readers and hopefully making them laugh and swoon a bit along the way. If she’s not in her comfy green writing chair, she’s probably camping or kayaking with her family or having a glass of wine while binge-watching Hulu. O
r she’s been kidnapped—so what are you doing just sitting there?!!

  **Winner of the 2017 National Indie Excellence Award for Romantic Comedy

  **Winner of the 2017 Readers’ Favorite Silver Medal for Romantic Comedy

  Thank you so much for reading The Lucky One – I hope you enjoyed it as much as I enjoyed writing it! If you did, a review on your favorite book site is always appreciated!

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  Thanks! XOXO,

  Sylvie

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  The Lucky One Playlist

  You can listen to this playlist on Spotify!

  Danny’s Song / Loggins & Messina

  Girl in a Country Song / Maddie & Tae

  Come on Get Higher / Matt Nathanson

  Different for Girls / Dierks Bentley and Elle King

  Sooner or Later / Mat Kearney

  Back to Where I Was / Eric Hutchinson

  Another Sunday in the South / Miranda Lambert

  The Girl You Think I Am / Carrie Underwood

  Something Beautiful / The Noms

  If There Was No You / Brandi Carlile

  Somebody Loved / The Weepies