Eyes like two confused saucers, Emily looked at Gavin. “What just happened?”

Gavin twined his fingers through hers, leading them through the diner. “I just saved us from arsenic with an insurance policy.”

Gripping Gavin’s hand tighter, she shook her head. “I don’t understand. What was all of that Security Exchange stuff? How did you know he did something wrong?”

“I didn’t. It was a guess,” Gavin said, reaching for the door.

“A guess,” Emily repeated, the exasperation in her voice heavy.

As they stepped into the cold air, Gavin pulled her into his arms. “Well, it wasn’t a complete guess.”

She tilted her head. “Can I get some elaboration, please?”

Gavin chuckled. “Ah. Let me think.” He dipped his head, resting his lips on her hair as he spoke. “Over the summer, Trevor came to my house and we indulged in a wicked game of Texas hold’em. I have to add, I took him down.” Gavin heard Emily sigh, and he smiled. “He got pretty fucking trashed and started talking about some illegal dealings with annuities Dillon said he was thinking about getting involved with. I was pretty tanked, so I didn’t think too much about it. I did start watching the funds Blake Industries had tied up with him more closely though. I never found anything wrong with our accounts, so I allowed him to keep making me money.

“What did I just do in there? One: I rolled the dice that even though Trevor had a good bit of Jagermeister running through his system, he wasn’t making the shit up. Two: I banked on your ex following up with his plan. I think we got lucky.”

“I think we did too,” Emily said, looking at him. “Why didn’t you bring that up earlier?”

“I honestly didn’t remember what Trevor said until I was halfway through my little speech. I hoped my father being a lawyer would get the asshole to back down without me resorting to murdering him at the table.”

“You’d murder for me?” she asked softly.

“There’s not a thing I wouldn’t do for you, Emily.”

She draped her arms around his neck and pushed up on her tiptoes to kiss him. The temperature might’ve been below freezing, but Emily felt warm through and through as Gavin’s mouth coated hers like a glaze of honey. His heat surrounded her like a heavy down comforter. Slowly pulling away, she bit her lip. “How do we know he won’t go to the cops even though he signed that paper?”

Gavin reached for her hand and led her toward his car. Opening the door, he gestured for her to get in, but she didn’t. She stared at him, her nervous eyes waiting on an answer. He lifted his hand to her cold cheek and shook his head. “I don’t want you worrying about what he’s going to do.”

Asking that of her was like asking her not to love him, like asking her not to breathe. She was scared to death Dillon would find a way to work holes through whatever agreement he and Gavin came to. Right about the same time her heart jumped into her throat at the thought of Gavin being sent to jail, so did something else. However, this jump was in her stomach. A little flip-flop that almost made her bust out in laughter. Emily quickly placed her hand on her slightly protruding belly, and her lips turned up as another burst of butterfly wings fluttered.

“Oh my, God, Gavin,” she breathed, reaching for his hand. She slipped it under hers. “The baby’s moving. It’s moving.”

Gavin swallowed, his eyes locked on the bright smile kissing Emily’s lips. His hand shook, but not from the cold. He’d suddenly become scared, yet a surge of excitement rushed through his blood.

“Can you feel it?” she asked, her hand pressing harder against his. She giggled, leaning back against his car. “Can you?”

Gavin shook his head. “No,” he whispered, finding himself fully consumed by the undeniable happiness filling Emily’s expression. God, she looked more beautiful than ever. His heart pounded with a burst of adoration, and his fingers tingled to feel what she was. Gavin realized the decision he made tonight was the right one. Dillon had wanted to bottle up the contentment that would come from watching him and Emily squirm, but in that moment, Gavin wanted to bottle up the feeling he was experiencing watching Emily.

He also added a third moment in his life he wished he could stop time dead in its tracks.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

“Did I hear you correctly?” Olivia’s brown eyes shone wide like pennies. Hand in midair, holding a bundle of French fries, she cocked her head to the side. “He’s going to be at each doctor visit with you guys?”

Emily swallowed down a bite of her burger. After taking a sip from her bottle of water, she nodded. “Yes, you heard correctly. Why do you seem so shocked? Besides, you still think he should’ve known all along.”

Olivia let out a deep, heavy sigh and stuffed the fries into her mouth. “Yeah. I think he should’ve known,” she said, chewing. “But I never said I think Dilly the small Willy should be allowed at your doctors’ visits. And you know why I said that, so please, let’s not go there again. I love you too much, friend.”

Emily rolled her eyes.

Fallon stabbed her fork into a piece of iceberg lettuce drowning in ranch dressing. “At least Gavin got him to back off the delivery room.” She swiped her tongue over her lip ring. “Everyone wins. No one goes to jail. No battles in court.”

“True,” Olivia chirped, sucking down the remains of a vanilla shake. “But it would’ve been cool to see Gavin gain some street creds.”

“Street creds?” Emily asked.

Olivia nodded. “The slammer. Joint. The clink. Crowbar hotel. The big house. Any amount of time in jail gains you street credit.”

Emily jerked her confused head back. “Liv, why would it be cool to see him gain street credits?”

Clearly trying to contain a grin, Olivia drew up a perfectly plucked brow. “Well, he already has a delectable tattoo. Adding jail time to his background can only make him hotter. I’m telling you, Em, after he got home, you’d appreciate the spectacular sex you’d get from that boy. Jail turns them into fiends.”

“Like they’re already not two sex fiends. To top it off, I remember reading that women turn into a ball of walking hormones while preggos.” Fallon nodded knowingly at Emily, her mouth puckered into a smile. “I bet you’re keeping him busy in that department.”

Ouch. Sore topic. To avoid eye contact with Fallon and Olivia, Emily plucked a fry from her plate and glanced around the café. Her gaze landed on a couple buckling a toddler into a highchair. Appearing frustrated by his confinement, the hyper, little blond-haired boy squeaked his displeasure and kicked the table. A chuckle from the father, a stern finger wagging from the mother, and a juice box later, the child fell into a quiet state of bliss.

Emily sighed, wiped her mouth, and reached for her purse. “Are we ready to go?”

Olivia squinted at Emily, her forehead pinched. Emily prepared for the smart-allecky statement she was sure was coming. “Holy shit, Em. You’re withholding sex from him, aren’t you?”

Yep. There it was. Cue eye roll and another sigh. “No, Liv. I’m not withholding sex from him. He’s withholding it from me.” Annoyed, Emily flagged down the bouncy teenage waitress.