If Alex were the kind of person who folded under pressure, she’d be origami by now. She’d thought creating fun little bite-sized desserts for Dylan’s party had been a challenge. A good challenge to be sure, but finding just the right bites for just the right crowd had stretched her culinary legs further than they’d ever been stretched.

Because they didn’t plan for a sit-down meal, everything was being served in courses as finger food. A group of Peter’s sous chefs had done the appetizers and mini main courses, tiny bites of filet mignon, and salmon mousse. It was an interesting way to feed people, unpretentious while still presented by the most well-known chef in the city.

And her.

She’d walked into Dylan’s building that day, only to be shown to a reception room off the lobby, where she was met with a huge banner, her Bad Girl of Sweets logo looking her in the face. She’d stopped short, arms full of pre-made puffs, ready to be filled. Jenna, ever the trusty assistant had laughed and if Alex wasn’t mistaken, preened a bit.

That was her handiwork, after all. It was her hand-drawn caricature that people would see when they walked into the reception area, taking in the banner.

The first two courses were done with, and she and Peter were working triple time, getting the desserts out and making sure every tray was perfect. Hers were takes on classics, just a bit elevated and tweaked. Peter’s were masterful, a far superior form of molecular gastronomy, that fascinated her, but was well beyond what she wanted to make. While delicious, the desserts didn’t make her feel anything inside.

That was what she liked about baking and feeding people. Sometimes, if she got it right, a certain food or flavor would evoke a feeling, either in her or whoever was eating it. Something that reminded someone of the cake their mother made for a special birthday or the time they splurged on dessert on their first date. She liked nostalgic food, classics that could be twisted a little but still recognized. Things like maple-pecan eclairs or handmade mini tarts, made with Peruvian dark chocolate and vanilla-bean meringue, which was basically a rich person’s version of a s’more. Peter’s stuff was out-of-this-world creative, things like ginger caviar and maple foam.

She and Peter stood across from each other at the doors to the reception area, checking every tray that went through the doors, making sure every plate was exactly the same. She’d been on her feet for hours, the basketball she carried around in her stomach getting heavier by the second.

When the last tray went out, Peter sent her a proud smile. “Nice work, Alex. This has been the most fun I’ve had in a long time.”

She had to agree and nodded in return, hoping she didn’t look as dead on her feet as she felt.

“I’m just still blown away that I got to do this with you,” she admitted. “I don’t care if Dylan pulled the strings for me. This has been the highlight of my career and I can’t thank you enough for taking me on.”

Peter’s brows drew down as they strolled into the kitchen for cleanup. “He didn’t pull that many strings.”

Alex shrugged. “He always says, it’s not always about what you do but who you know. He knows you and he got me the gig. Hell, he made up the gig so I’d have something.” She met him with laughing eyes. “My womanly pride will prevent me from gushing about him meddling in my career, but I’m not so proud that I would miss this shot to work with you.”

“I like you, Alex,” Peter told her, leaning against a counter. “And you’re talented as hell. I’d work with you anytime. In fact, I see more collaborations in our future.” He looked pointedly at her stomach. “How long did you say you have left?”

“One hundred and fifty-seven years,” she deadpanned, starting to wonder how she was going to make it another thirteen weeks. She felt like she was already as big as a house.

Peter laughed. “Well, if I’m still alive, you come see me. Anytime. Call me. Stop by. Whatever you have to do, you get in touch, and we’ll figure something else out. Until then, let’s keep up with the social media and give each other a boost.”

“Hey!” Dylan popped his head into the kitchen. “You ready to come out?”

She’d shooed him out of the kitchen in the very beginning of the party, telling him he couldn’t bug her when she was working. He’d stayed away, but now that the last plates were out, it was time to walk the plank.

Meeting his parents.

Her family was out there too: her brother, both of her sisters, her brothers-in-law, and Jenna. Charlie had stayed home, claiming he didn’t want to drive into the city, though Alex secretly wondered if he wasn’t taking advantage of his time alone and going on a date. Hell, she hoped so. He deserved to be happy again just as much as the rest of the Walkers did.

“Give me a minute to clean up,” she told him.

He stepped into the kitchen, looking completely out of place in his designer suit, but he still ruled the room. The waitstaff watched him, waiting to see what he was doing. Peter stood a little taller. He held everyone’s attention.

“I think you look beautiful,” he whispered when he reached her, his hands finding each side of her stomach.

“Let’s make sure to get you an appointment with the eye doctor this week,” she joked, grabbing a fresh chef’s jacket from her bag.

Peter put one on too and they both suddenly looked clean and fresh. Alex quickly checked her hair in the reflection of a paper-towel dispenser. She didn’t look too bad, shaking her hair out so it was loose down her back. She threw a glance over her shoulder as Dylan and Peter both watched her.

“Ready as I’ll ever be.”

It was kind of embarrassing, someone actually announcing them when they entered the reception area. With everyone’s eyes on them, Alex became acutely aware of the room and its occupants as she stepped into the crowd, her belly leading the way. Dylan, for his part, held her close, the smile on his face never faltering for a second. He walked her through the crowd, people parting for them and giving a gentle yet strange type of golf-clap. She kept the smile plastered on her face, hoping it looked more like she was happy to be there and less like she was being electrocuted.

Dylan, bless his soul, made a beeline for her family. The relief Alex felt, when she stepped into her circle of people, was palpable, her shoulders relaxing as her smile turned genuine. They all congratulated her, patting her on the back and raving about her desserts. She listened to them prattle on, taking a glass when Dylan handed it to her. He silently watched her family’s conversation, the smile on his face telling her he was entertained. She sipped the drink, almost immediately regretting it.

“Listen,” Alex interrupted Logan’s sentence. “What is with this baby?” She grabbed his hand and pressed it to her belly and let him feel.

As always, there was a wonder there and he chuckled, feeling all around her stomach.

“She has the hiccups,” Logan told them all.

“Again?” Beth laughed, feeling too.

Before she knew it, they all had a hand on her stomach, feeling the baby hiccup away inside her belly. It was a strange sensation, and she couldn’t say how she knew it was the baby having the hiccups, but she just knew. Small, persistent spasms, but not coming from her, coming from the baby.

“Every time she drinks something,” Dylan informed them, wrapping an arm around her shoulder and kissing the top of her head.

“Jenna was a flipper,” Andy said with a smile at her daughter, their hands intertwining over Alex’s bump. “Feet in my ribs, feet in my bladder, feet trying to come out through my belly button.”

“Belly button?” Alex scoffed. “What’s that?”

“Have I told you today that you’re my favorite sister?” Beth asked, a smile on her face as she winked at Alex.

“Hey!” Andy argued.

“Dylan?”

A woman, who could only be Dylan’s mother, glided up to their group as if she was floating on air. Her designer dress, a cream-colored sheath, was flawless. Her blond hair was styled into an artful waterfall behind her back. His father stood next to her, a small smile on his face as he took in their group and their closeness.

“Mom,” Dylan said in greeting, kissing her cheek and shaking his father’s hand. “Dad. Everyone, these are my parents, Martin and Lavinia. Mom, Dad, this is Lexi. My girlfriend.”

Alex pushed away the reminder that they might not approve of her and ignored it. She’d had a good night and refused to let them or anyone else ruin it. He’d obviously warned them about the baby, and they made no mention of it, almost pretending she wasn’t there between them as the shook hands.

“Nice to meet you,” Alex said.

“And this is Lexi’s family. Her sister Beth and her husband Logan. Her brother Spencer. Her twin sister Andy, her husband Owen, and their daughter Jenna.”

“Subtle differences,” Lavinia noticed, inspecting Andy and then Alex. “You’re both very beautiful.”

“Thank you,” Andy said with a smile. “We don’t actually think we look that much alike.”

Lavinia looked stunned for a moment until she noticed Andy’s lips twitching.

“Your parents must have had a heck of a time keeping you two separate.”

“Alex was the one sticking forks in the electrical sockets. Andy was the one sitting quietly where she was told,” Spencer told them.

Alex rolled her eyes. “I specifically remember a time when Andy talked me into repainting the dining room table. Why is everyone’s memory of Andy so perfect? Like she never did anything wrong?”

Jenna pressed a hand to her chest. “My mother? No?”

“There was a time when she set up a piece of plywood and called it a bike ramp and then catapulted me off it,” Beth supplied. “And that time—”

“Okay,” Andy interrupted, holding up her hands. “That’s enough storytime from you all, thank you very much.”

“No. Keep going,” Jenna said with a laugh.

Owen grabbed her around the shoulder and pulled her close. “Don’t get any ideas.”

Alex saw Dylan’s parents watching them all closely, Lavinia’s eyes flipping to her belly and back up again.

“This is baby Hallowell,” Alex said, grabbing her belly with both hands and bringing it to the forefront of the conversation. “She’s Beth and Logan’s pride and joy. I get the honor of carrying her until she’s ready to make her big appearance, and after that, she’ll be my favorite baby niece.” She shot a look to Jenna. “I already have a favorite oldest niece.”

“It’s a wonderful thing you’re doing,” Martin, Dylan’s father, said with a smile.

“People keep saying that but really, I mostly did it just to have something to hold over Beth’s head until the end of time.”

It was a joke, and maybe not a very good one, because neither of Dylan’s parents laughed. She met Beth’s eyes though and there was a connection there that hadn’t always been present, some tether between them that used to be floating free but was now tied tightly together.

“You’re a liar,” Beth said, emotion clogging her throat.

“You’re a brat,” Alex shot back, unable to stop the smile from spreading on her face. She looked at Martin again. “She has the hiccups. Want to feel?”

With that one invitation, Dylan’s parents looked at each other and a familiar look entered their eyes. Wonder. They both stepped up and pressed a hand to Alex’s stomach, which she didn’t mind. Strangers, no. Dylan’s parents, if it meant they might like her, hell yes.

“Oh,” Lavinia tittered and looked to Dylan. “You never did that.”

“She does it every time Lexi takes a drink of something,” he informed them proudly.

“That’s amazing,” Martin murmured, his gaze flickering to Alex and then Beth and Logan. “This is truly a miracle. Science is a wonderful thing. Congratulations to you both.”

“Thank you,” Logan said with a nod.

“We’d love to have you for brunch,” Lavinia said to Alex, her hand coming to rest on Dylan’s arm. “Are you free tomorrow?”

“Beth and Logan are having a baby shower tomorrow and guess who’s the guest of honor?” Alex pointed at her belly. “But you’re welcome to join us. We’d love to have you. Dylan’s coming.”

She added that last part, hoping to entice them. It would be a good opportunity to get to know them and for them to see what her family was like.

Lavinia looked taken aback at the invitation and Alex winced.

“I’m sorry. You don’t have to bring a gift. That wasn’t what I meant. I just thought it would be a good opportunity to get to know each other. I’m not like, fishing for gifts. Really, none of them are for me anyway and I think most of the registry is already taken. I wasn’t sure what to get because clearly, I’m already doing my part, but I still got something—”

“Lex,” Dylan said, trying to interrupt.

“For the baby and for Beth.” She looked to Logan. “I didn’t get you anything yet. I’m waiting for inspiration to strike.” She looked back to Dylan and then his parents. “I ramble when I’m nervous. Sorry. You’re welcome to come and visit. No gift. No pressure. I’m going to shut up now and go get a little food.” She grabbed Jenna’s hand. “And I’m taking her with me so I don’t evaporate in embarrassment or try to run away. She’ll keep me honest. Nice to meet you.”

With that, she dragged a laughing Jenna away.

“You’re such a spaz,” Jenna told her.

“I know,” Alex whispered, annoyed. “What the hell is wrong with me?”

Eating something calmed Alex down and settled her nerves. She’d expected Dylan’s parents to look down on her or treat her like a second-class citizen from the way Dylan had warned her. Instead, they’d been kind and warm, the way Dylan’s mother looked at him reminding her of her own mother’s love.

She shoved a leftover crostini, covered in pâté, into her mouth.

“This has been super fun,” Jenna marveled as the place started emptying out. “Bill introduced me to the CEO of Herrick International and the president of BU.”

“Hopefully you kept the Walker word vomit to a minimum,” Alex countered.

“I was totally fine until I met Dylan’s partners,” Jenna murmured, leaning in and talking under her breath. “I mean, I’ve seen their pictures but…”

“But what?” Alex laughed, imagining being a teenager and confronted with Brady, Lincoln, and Grant.

Jenna just shook her head, her lips tight. “Not now.”

Alex looked up to see Lincoln and Grant strolling their way, deep in conversation. Jenna’s eyes were locked on them, wide and filled with an emotion Alex was deeply familiar with: infatuation. One of those men held her teenage niece’s attention in a way Alex had never seen before.

She slapped her niece’s shoulder. “If twenty is too old, so is twenty-nine or however old those two are.”

“I’m just looking,” Jenna defended.

“We need the name,” Grant was saying to Lincoln. “I spoke to half a dozen people tonight willing to invest.”

“It’s a pet project, Grant. You have to be careful with this one.”

“Someone here has the connection we’re looking for; we just have to find them. I need—”

“You need?” Lincoln asked, brow arched.

“We need. We need a big name in the tech world. Someone with a lot of pull. Someone everyone knows and can put some weight behind this. It’s a good project, Linc. Smart kids with a good idea. I’ve got money; I just need a name.”

“And you’re getting this person where? Who’re you getting meetings with?”

“I’ve got feelers out,” he hedged, looking annoyed. “I’m hoping to get someone who knows someone to get word to someone like Julia Hawkins.”

Lincoln scoffed, but Alex nearly choked on her pâté.

“What’re you talking about?” Jenna interrupted, completely guileless in her intrusion. Her eyes were wide and she only had eyes for Grant.

Lincoln regarded her with a kind of older-brother camaraderie, while Grant scowled at them both. That seemed to be his go-to expression. Alex hadn’t quite forgiven him for his accusations a few months back and wasn’t sure she ever would.

“Business,” Grant grunted.

“Grant’s interested in helping fund a little tech company that’s looking for a big push. We can find the money, but he’s looking for a big name in the tech world to give them a leg up and get some buzz going.”

“What’re you doing tomorrow?” Alex asked Grant, resigned.

He looked skeptical, as well he should. She didn’t like him, but she was willing to help him. Tomorrow was Beth’s baby shower. Grant wanted to meet Julia Hawkins who would be in attendance. She’d shoot Julia and Kelsey a text and give them a heads-up if Grant was going to pitch them some kind of business shenanigans.

“Working.”

“You should come to Auntie Alex’s baby shower,” Jenna chirped.

“It’s not mine,” Alex corrected. “It’s Beth and Logan’s, but Jenna’s right. You should come.”

Lincoln’s eyebrows raised and Grant scoffed. “Why would we do that?”

“Because I can help you with your problem,” she told them, without straight-out telling them that Julia was going to be there. They’d either take her advice, that she could help them, if they came to the shower, or they wouldn’t.

“You can help us get a big name in the tech industry. At a baby shower.”

“You’re looking for people who know people, right?” she shrugged. “We know people. You can get the party details from Dylan. You’ll either come or you won’t.”

“Have you ever seen that movie Pretty Woman?” Jenna asked, both men now regarding her curiously. “When she tried to go shopping and those shitty—”

“Jenna,” Alex said warningly.

“Those crappy salesladies won’t sell her clothes, because they don’t know who she is or don’t think she can afford to shop there, and they don’t bother with her. Then she comes back the next day, all fancied up, with all the bags in her hands because she just spent a crap-ton of money in another store.”

“Walker word vomit,” Alex whispered, letting Jenna know she was going off the rails.

“And she holds up the bags and says, big mistake.”

Lincoln nodded. “I remember.”

“That’s what we’ll have to say to you if you don’t show up to the baby shower,” Jenna informed them brightly. “Big mistake.”

Grant crossed his arms over his chest, studying them both.

Lincoln just smiled, intrigued. “Guess we’ll be coming to the baby shower.”

“Do I want to know why Grant asked me for the details for attending Beth and Logan’s baby shower?”

He’d just stepped out of the shower, and was toweling off and checking his phone, leaving Alex in the steamy, glass enclosure. Instead of answering, she stared at his backside as he ruffled the towel through his hair, his cheeks clenching as he moved about.

She’d dated a landscaper once, a man who knew what hard labor was, hauling granite day in and day out. That man had buns of steel, high and tight from lifting and walking with heavy weights all the time. Dylan had an ass like that even though she knew he wasn’t lifting rocks for a living.

How did he get his ass so round and firm?

His knuckles rapped on the glass, getting her attention. The smile on his face was wicked and full of delight. He was easy to please if her just ogling his butt made him happy.

“Did you hear anything I said?” he asked.

“Was it something about pleasuring me all night long while I grab your adorable ass, holding on for dear life.”

He shook his head, probably not surprised at the direction her hormone-saturated mind went.

“No. It wasn’t that,” he told her.

“Are you sure?” she asked, turning off the water and grabbing her own towel from the heater on the wall.

Dylan had towel heaters at his condo. Like that was a real thing that people actually needed in their lives. The problem was, now Alex knew what it was like to get out of the shower and not have a heated towel, and it was the biggest first-world problem in her life. He was spoiling her and she loved every second.

“Grant said you invited him to the shower tomorrow,” Dylan said, skepticism heavy in his words. “And he said he’s planning on going. He and Lincoln. What did I miss?”

She wrapped the towel around her chest and tucked the corner between her breasts. “Just me being a sweet and kind girlfriend.”

He had the audacity to laugh outright, not believing her for a second. “Try again, babe.”

“Call it an olive branch,” she hedged. “I overheard them talking about something they’re looking for and I know where they can find it.”

“And they’re going to find this mysterious thing at a baby shower?” he asked.

Alex put her hands on her hips and glared up at him. “Hey. You don’t know everything about me. I’ve got tricks up my sleeve.”

He stepped closer, pressing her backside into the sink, his hands resting on the counter at her hips.

“You don’t have any sleeves,” he noted.

“Well, you still don’t know everything about me, Dylan James,” she countered.

“I doubt I ever will,” he said with a small smile, his fingers inching their way up her body, until he untucked the towel and it fell to the floor at their feet. “But I do know lots and lots of other things about you.”

“Maybe just lots. Not lots and lots. I still have secrets.”

She did not and if she did, it was because they were ridiculous and embarrassing.

“I know you like when I grab you right here,” he whispered, ignoring her stupid ramblings, his breath steamy against her neck. His hand latched onto her hip and he held her tight, her insides lighting up at the contact.

He was right. She did like when he grabbed her right there, especially when they were naked and he pulled her close. Something about that contact just did it for her.

“I know you like when I nibble, right here.” His fingertips connected to the skin between her legs, slick and hot as he slid his fingers through.

Yeah, she loved when he nibbled her right there. She pretty much loved when he did anything there.

He quickly spun her around, until her back was pressed to his chest, and they were staring at each other in the mirror over the sink. His blond hair looked dark, finger-combed to the side and damp, and his chestnut eyes watched her with a heat that made her legs feel like jelly.

“I know you like when I do this,” he whispered, his hands maneuvering her until she was bent at the waist. He stood behind her, spreading her wide open and looking his fill.

Again, he wasn’t wrong and she did like it. When his fingers found her again and he pressed them inside, the sound that came out of her was as close to relief as it was pleasure. Her day had been long and stressful, she was wound tighter than a bow string, and she needed Dylan like this more than she needed anything else. More than she needed food or sleep, she needed him inside her.

“I know what you want, Lex,” he told her. “I know what you need.”

“Yes,” she whispered, pushing herself against him, striving for a finish line that was still too far away to grasp.

His fingers flexed, and she felt a buzzing burn low in her belly, a fire that made her legs shake and her body move on its own. When he replaced his fingers and thrust himself as deep inside her as he could get, curling his upper body around her, she nearly cried at the fullness she felt.

And not physically full, because that would be too easy. Instead, she felt full in a way she never had before. Full of someone that knew how to take care of her, someone she had completely let her guard down around. She felt full of Dylan James, and it had nothing to do with his dick being inside of her and everything to do with the way he filled her damn heart.

By helping her get her foot in the door at work.

By being levelheaded when she wasn’t.

By showing her that a tough outer shell isn’t the same as being tough on the inside.

By knowing what she needed when she needed it.

“Don’t stop,” she cried raggedly, not sure if she meant physically or emotionally. All she cared about was that he didn’t stop caring for her and didn’t stop loving her. “I need you.”

He pulled her to stand, still lodged inside her, his blazing-hot eyes catching hers in the mirror and snagging her gaze. Helpless to look away, she felt the sting of tears gathering in the corners of her eyes as he watched her with a knowing intensity.

His arms snaked around her, holding her close as he began pumping in and out again.

His lips were hot in the crook of her neck. “Me too,” he murmured, saying nothing and everything at the same time.

He knew her.

In and out, he knew her.