“This isn’t going to work,” Silas says. He’s carried the fresh scent of his soap from the shower into the kitchen.

“What?”

“This!”

I look over my shoulder and Honeycrisp is standing directly behind me looking at Silas, just daring him to come closer to me. She’s been acting weird the last few days, but today she seems to have made up her mind. She’s my new head of security. I snicker and turn back to my cake batter.

Silas’s parents will be here by dinner time and I want everything to be perfect. A seven layer apple pear cake will definitely be enough to pad the news that we may have fudged on the timeline of how and when Silas and I decided on each step of this new life of ours together. Not that they won’t be able to tell that I’m pregnant as fuck the moment they walk through the door. I’m still convinced we conceived this little girl my first night back in town.

“I don’t know what to tell you, pimp. She’s just doing her job.”

“Keeping me from you is not her job. I’d like to help you raise this child. I’d like to hug you again and sex has crossed my mind too.”

“Ugh, I wish you hadn’t said that. I broke my third vibrator this morning.”

“Why didn’t you just text me? I would have come back for whatever you had in mind. God. Move dog.” Silas sidesteps Honeycrisp and then slowly slips his arms around my waist. I laugh as she starts growling. “See, Honey. Everything’s cool.” Hank and Joe have definitely shown interest in my growing belly. Gala and Morty couldn’t give less of a fuck, but Honeycrisp is on high damn alert.

“It’s okay,” I tell her as she shoves her nose under Silas’s arms and tries to come between us.

“She’s definitely sleeping in the barn tonight.”

“Here, go sit.” I wipe my hands and wait for Silas to take a seat at our new kitchen table. I make myself comfortable on his lap, then let Honeycrisp set up shop between my knees where she can keep careful watch. I scratch her head. “See, that’s better.”

I had a few requests when I moved in. I love the country charm of the place, but some of the furniture hadn’t been replaced since the late eighties. We’re keeping his parents’ gorgeous oak dining room table. The broken down stuff in the kitchen has to go though, along with the ancient stove, the countertops—we’ll gut the whole kitchen. And the bathrooms and the laundry room. Silas doesn’t mind, especially when I offer to pay for it. He won’t let me, but he sees my offer as a real step toward gender equality, especially since in a few short months, I’ll be part owner of McInroy Farms, by way of marriage.

Silas proposed during my first bout of morning sickness, in true Silas form with the horrible timing and the blunt reasoning as to why us getting married only makes sense. Construction on the bakery was under way. I’d already moved in with no intention of going anywhere and, more importantly, he knows that for the rest of his life he’ll never love anyone else. I have to agree. I knew I made the right choice when he showed up a few weeks later with a diamond the size of a golf ball that Brooklyn had helped him pick out. So much has happened so quickly. Still, every time I take a moment to look around at Phase Two of the Life of Elizabeth Lewis, I have no complaints. Until Scott calls.

He heard the happy news from his parents. I try to talk to him, but he can’t stop bad mouthing Silas. I get that there’s hurt there and anger, but this is the father of my child, the man I’m going to marry and whatever Scott thinks there is or was between us, whether it’s friendship or something more, it’s over, long over. Neither of us hear from him for months, but a few days ago, he emailed. He’s been thinking. He’s sorry. He means it. He’s happy we’ve found each other. He’s happy he’s going to be an uncle. He’s hoping Silas and I both can find a way to let him in our lives.

“I read the email again while you were out,” I tell Silas. We’ve been talking about it a lot, thinking it over.

“What do you think?”

“I think it’s up to you. I know exactly what my limits are with Brooklyn. She is more than ready to play the role of eccentric aunt, like right now. Will she teach baby girl here her first swear? Fuck yeah she will, but I know I can trust her. I can’t tell you how to feel about Scott. I just don’t want him to hurt you and I don’t want him to be shitty to our child.”

“Yeah, I’m not letting that happen. You said something about a vibrator.”

“Oh no, sir. I may be insane with the horny, but I still need to finish this cake and you came home early to help me make the beds, unless you forgot.”

“I want to continue with my lessons,” he says as he kisses my neck. My eyes slide closed and I don’t stop him as his hand slips between my legs. Even through my jeans, his touch drives me crazy. He’s been an excellent student, even when I make him wait for all the shit he tries to pull during the day.

“We’ll resume lessons as soon as your parents leave. They don’t need to accidentally hear me walking you through edging.”

My phone rings suddenly. Silas grabs it off the table and answers it on speaker. “What do you want Brooklyn?” he says.

“Mufucka, who you talking to like that?” she says, laughing. “Where’s my sister?”

“I’m right here. Hi.”

“Stop letting your man answer your phone, like he’s running shit around there.”

“She’s got me there. I’m not. Here,” he hands me my phone, then rests his chin on my shoulder. I take the call off speaker and wrap my fingers with his as they slide over my belly.

“Hey, girl. What’s up?”