Jeremy's gaze flicks from me to the wand and back to me. He doesn't ask me if I'm serious; he doesn't have to. There's no way to misinterpret the positive sign on the plastic wand. "How long have you known?" he finally says.

"I've been dealing with some sickness for a few weeks now."

"Is that why you've been getting up so much earlier than me? I thought you were just an early riser."

I shrug. "To a certain extent I am, but since just a few days before our wedding, my stomach refuses to let me sleep past five in the morning. And there are some scents at the shop that send me running for the bathroom, scents that have never bothered me before."

"But you only just took the test today, or have you been keeping it under the couch all this time?"

"I've been wanting to take the test, and wanting to tell you about it, but I was afraid to get either of our hopes up, especially now that Evan and Sheila are married ..." I let the words trail off. We both know that Evan is going to do everything in his power to make sure that she gets pregnant as soon as possible.

"Evan is the last thing I want to talk about right now." Jeremy reaches out and gently pushes my hair behind my ear. "I want to hear more about how you learned you were pregnant."

"I kept meaning to pick up a home test, but I kept chickening out. Today, I finally talked myself into it. I've only known the results for about an hour."

Jeremy grins and wraps his arms around me, pulling me to his chest for a tight hug. He buries his face in my hair.

"We're having a baby," he crows.

“That we are,” I reply, my voice muffled by his shirt.

“Hang on.” He pushes me away almost as quickly as he hugged me and scrambles off the couch. “I bought something just for this occasion.”

I twist around and watch as he disappears into the kitchen. “Please God, tell me you didn’t buy cigars to help you celebrate conceiving a child. I hate the way they smell even when I’m not pregnant.” Just thinking about them causes my temperamental stomach to lurch. I press my palm to it, willing it to calm down. “If you’re getting cigars,” I say in my best warning voice, “you’re going to the roof to enjoy them.”

Jeremy leans across the threshold, waggling his eyebrows. “You know, that’s not a bad idea. Why don’t you get your shoes and grab a couple of folding chairs out of the storage closet in the landing and head on up? I’ll catch up in a few minutes. I just have to get a few things ready.”

He’s right. It’s a nice night and while this isn’t the tallest building in Denver, it still provides a good view of the mountains.

Ten minutes later I’m leaning back in my chair, feet propped up on the safety rail that surrounds the perimeter of the building and counting stars when the door finally creaks open. I roll my head to the side, expecting to see Jeremy, but instead of my handsome husband, a scarred-up, lean dog lopes toward me.

“Hello, Khan.” I gasp as he drops his massive head on my chest. “I’m glad to see you too. It’s been too long since we parted.”

“He really wanted to help us celebrate.” Jeremy follows the same path Kahn took, but at a much more leisurely pace. A medium-sized picnic basket dangles from his fingertips. “I tried telling him no, that this was an adult-only party, but he looked sad so I caved.”

“Softy,” I tease even as I rub Kahn’s soft ears. They’re the only part of him that isn’t covered in scars.

“I know,” Jeremy says easily.

He sets the basket down between the lawn chairs I’ve set up. He sits down on the second chair and reaches into the picnic basket, withdrawing a battered rubber frog that’s roughly the size of a bowling ball. Kahn takes one look at the frog and dances away from me. He whines and play-bows in front of Jeremy, his eyes pleading while his tail goes a mile a minute.

“One.”

The start of the countdown sends Kahn into a frenzy. His tail moves twice as fast and his eyes bug out of his head, while his feet tap and paw at the floor.

“Two.”

Jeremy’s voice shakes with laughter as Kahn starts making a strange chortling noise.

“Three!”

Jeremy cocks back his arm and lets the rubber frog go sailing toward the far side of the roof.

With a happy yelp, Kahn gives chase. He turns so fast that his legs slide out from underneath him and he falls, hard, onto his side. Unfazed, he scrambles to his feet and resumes his pursuit of the toy. Jeremy and I shake with laughter as he grabs it and throws it high in the air, repeating the motion half a dozen times before he settles down.

Jeremy reaches back into the picnic basket. “So, do you think kids will be as much fun as dogs are?”

I think about it a moment. “I have no idea. Other than swinging by the school for special needs from time to time, I haven’t spent much time with them.”

“Me either.”

I stare at him. “You’re kidding, right?”

He shakes his head. “No. Why would I joke about that? And when would I have time to hang out with kids?” He holds up his hand. “One, I’m president of one of the biggest businesses in the country. Two, I volunteer several hours a week at a local animal shelter.” Each time he rattles off an item, he holds up a finger. “Three, I have my own dog to walk every single day. Four, I have to clean a litter box because my wife refuses to do it and keeps telling me that it’s my cat. Five, I also have to cook a handful of meals for my wife each week, and six – find time to make sure she’s completely satisfied with her husband.”

By the time he reaches this point, I’m laughing so hard my sides hurt. “Okay, okay. I get it,” I gasp. “You’re a busy man.”

“Damn right.”

As my composure slowly returns, I place a protective hand over my belly and think about the little clusters of cells growing there. Soon (ish) it will be a full-fledged baby and it’s going to be relying on Jeremy and me for everything.

“This is going to be like the blind leading the blind,” I murmur as I wonder just what the hell we’ve managed to get ourselves into.

“Maybe it will be.” Jeremy leans over the side of his chair and reaches into the picnic basket.

I shoot him a side look. “And you’re not worried?”

“I’m worried about a lot of things.” He pulls out two champagne flutes and hands one to me. “But our lack of experience isn’t one of them. The way I see it, there are lots of parents out there that probably knew even less than we do who are raising great kids. And we have a lot of people in our lives who’ll help out. And if we get into a bind, I’ll hire a nanny.”

“Well, when you put it that way, we have nothing to worry about.” I force myself to relax against the back of the chair and watch Kahn gnawing on his green toy. Even though Jeremy has made a good point, it doesn’t completely silence the little voice whispering in the back of my mind that keeps hinting we’ve bitten off more than we’re ready to chew.

Jeremy pulls a heavy, long-necked champagne bottle from the picnic basket. He removes the top, which he obviously loosened while he was still in the kitchen.

I stare at it. “I can’t drink that. Pregnant, remember. That means no alcohol for me until this kid is born.”

“Which is why I went out and bought the most expensive sparkling grape juice I could find.” He rotates the bottle, holding it the same way a waiter in an expensive restaurant does, allowing me to read the label. “I found it right after you took that first pregnancy test and hid it away so that we’d have it when we did finally create a child. I also brought up some chocolate covered strawberries.”

“Well, in that case…” I hold out my glass. “Fill it up and let the party start.”