“Oh, no,” she assured him.
Those lovely midnight blue eyes of hers still took on that special glow he’d come to cherish over the past four years. There seemed to be an additional something special about them.
“About, oh, six weeks too late, actually,” she finished.
Emma and Holly squealed. Sean and Trevor shared a quick grin with each other, then looked at Griffin, on hold for any cue from him before congratulating him, manly comrades-in-arms first, dads-to-be second.
“You’re…?”
She sipped her water, trying to look oh-so-innocent. “I didn’t tell you before we left, because you’d have never let me get on the plane.”
“You can fly up until your third—” Emma started to say.
“Tell that to Captain Worrywort here,” Melody said.
“I am no’ a worrywort, or any kind of wort,” Griffin said, clearly affronted, feeling more than a little poleaxed.
“You almost came unhinged when you found me up on that scaffolding outside the shop last summer.”
“You could have fallen to your death.”
“I was ten feet off the ground.”
Everyone laughed, and he had the good grace to look a little abashed. Though he’d have made the same choice again. A lot of things in his life had taken on far less importance over the past few years. Melody’s importance to him had only grown. And now she was carrying…
“Griffin,” Melody said, sounding a bit alarmed.
“Just give me a minute, luv,” he said, then bagged trying to look as if he had any control at all and dabbed the corners of his eyes on his sleeve. “Come here.” He pulled his squealing wife into his lap, and everyone raised a glass. “To getting everything we ever wanted in this life.” He looked at his wife, who’d never glowed so beautifully. “And then some.”
Naughty But Nice (A Hamilton Christmas Novella) Page 11