She nods again, and a few tears streak down her cheeks.
And I can’t stop myself from leaning forward to kiss her.
The room explodes into cheering, confusion forgotten and joy taking over, everyone in our family very much in attendance for the moment, but I don’t mind. If anything, it feels right.
After everyone stands up to give us hugs and congratulations, somehow, we all manage to sit back down and start digging back into the food. Even in times of celebration, the Winslows know not to let yum-yums go to waste.
But Cleo has other plans.
“I want to thank you all for letting me be here tonight,” she announces to everyone in the room. “This has been a real joy. So many faces I know and so many faces I’m glad I’ve finally gotten to meet. And I’m just overwhelmed by your love and your elation, and I can’t wait to see you all expand it with more Winslows soon.”
“What? More Winslows? As in, plural?” Ty questions and looks at Maria with wide eyes. “Wait…is she—”
“Not twins, my dear,” Cleo answers with a taunting cluck and wag of her finger. “Sweet Maria isn’t the only one in the room with child.”
“I’m sorry…what?” Jude blinks several times, dropping his fork with a clang.
Ty can’t stop blinking as he looks around the room.
And with Roman and Ryder crawling all over him like a fucking jungle gym, Flynn looks like he’s about to have a heart attack.
Maria isn’t the only one who’s pregnant?
Holy shit.
“Who is it?” Jude shouts, barely able to stop himself from shooting through the ceiling.
Cleo tuts with a shake of her red-tipped finger. “Now that, my dear, is not my news to reveal. Carrying a child, forming a new life—it’s serious, personal business. It’s a sacred secret the bearer must reveal in their own due time.”
THE END
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THE BET EXCERPT
Saturday, February 17th
Jude
I don’t know what it is, but I feel like luck is in the air tonight—well, luck and an arctic fucking cold front. I smile at the thought, but also, with a bounce in my step, I pick up my pace to decrease the time I have to be outside in this blistery-as-hell winter wind.
Two blocks from my destination, my phone vibrates in my jacket pocket, and I pull it out to find a message front and center on the screen.
Bianca: You busy tonight? I’d sure love some company…
I grin and shake my head, typing out a quick text.
Me: Sorry, honey. Working.
Bianca: :（
I smile.
Bianca is a beautiful woman, but she’s not my girlfriend or my ex-girlfriend. She’s not even really a friend, if I’m being honest.
She’s nice and sweet, and we hang out from time to time, and she’s one of a million. A million who are just as good a fit for a temporary fun time or companionship or a distraction from life’s complications.