“You nailed it today.” I kissed his chest.
“I had help,” he confessed.
“From who?”
“Your favorite person—my dad.”
I laughed. “You’re my favorite person right now. But I do like your dad. And your mom.”
“They both adore you.” He paused. “I also told your parents.”
I sat up again. “You did?”
“Yes. I had to tell them because I want to keep the job at Etoile. Which I love, by the way. The minute I quit the show, I was relieved. It was so obviously the right decision.”
“We could do some cool things together,” I said.
“We could. Starting with the cover of Tastemaker magazine.”
“What?” My jaw hung open. “What are you talking about?”
“I reached out to Fiona Duff and pitched a story about the two of us. I had to spill the beans about the baby—I swore her to secrecy—but she absolutely loved the idea of a power couple cover. We’ll shoot it next week, if you say yes.”
“Yes,” I said, laughing. “But it’s so annoying the way you can just talk people into anything.”
“Well, I also had to agree to let her daughter design and sell merch for me for her economics class project.” He exhaled. “I’ll probably regret it, but soon you will be able to purchase a Too Hot to Handle hot pad with my face on it.”
“Serves you right.” I thumped his chest. “But speaking of classes, what would you think about some cooking classes at Etoile?”
“Kids or adults?”
“I was thinking adults, like as part of a weekend package, but you know what? Kids’ classes would be fun too! Like in the summertime? You’d be so great at that.”
“I don’t know anything about kids. Except how to act like one. You think I’d be good with them?”
I laughed. “Yes, I do. I think it will come naturally to you. By the way, my mother confirmed what you told me—that it was you who carried me into the house after I bloodied my knees.”
His grin was smug. “Told you.”
“I was wrong. But I’m right about you being great with kids. What do you think?”
He put his hands behind his head. “Yeah. I like that idea. Let’s do it.”
“I’ll talk to Winnie and we can start planning.” I started to get out of bed, and he grabbed my arm.
“Hey, where do you think you’re going?”
“To work! It’s, like, noon, Gianni. We can’t stay in bed all day.” Although looking at him, lying there naked and tousled and giving me that look, it was tempting.
“Five more minutes?”
I gave in and let him pull me back into bed next to him. “Okay. Five more minutes. But in exchange, you have to promise me you’re not going to keep big secrets anymore.”
“This wasn’t really a secret—it was more like a surprise. And I love surprises.”
I groaned as I snuggled up to him once more. “I feel like that does not bode well for me.”
“They will all be good. I promise.” He wrapped his arms around me and kissed the top of my head. “All I want to do is be good to you.”
“Oh! I almost forgot! I have something for you.” We were just about to leave his apartment and head to Abelard when Gianni tugged on my arm. “Come sit on the couch.”
“Gianni, I’m already late,” I said impatiently. “I gave you five more minutes, which turned into twenty.”
“Please just sit,” he cajoled. “One minute, I promise.”
Sighing with exasperation, I let him pull me over to the couch and sat down. “I don’t know why I keep believing your promises, but okay.”
“Close your eyes.”
I did as he asked, and a moment later, he placed something in my lap.
“Okay, you can look.”
I opened my eyes and saw a rectangular package clumsily wrapped in red and green paper that said Happy Holidays on it. I started to laugh. “Christmas paper?”
“Yeah,” he said sheepishly. “Sorry. It was all I had.”
“It’s okay.” Carefully, I slid my fingers beneath the tape and peeled away the paper. Then I gasped. “Oh my God!”
It was a photo frame with the ultrasound picture inside it. On the wide white matting beneath the picture was written love at first sight in lowercase cursive letters.
“It’s our baby,” he said proudly, as if I might have thought he’d stuck some stranger’s ultrasound in the frame.