EPILOGUE
“I can’t believe we’re finally doing this,” Eva breathed, her hand, sporting her brand new wedding band squeezed Donovan’s.
“Right this way.” The maître d’, a stuffy little man in a starched shirt and slicked back hair, led them into the dining room. It was a glitzy room with its circular shape and decadent finishes. There were actual candlesticks on every white linen wrapped table top. The wallpaper was a ruby red with gold birds and twisting vines. Half a dozen sets of glass doors led out onto a stone terrace. The room smelled like steak and fresh bread.
Donovan’s hand rested warmly, solidly at the small of her back. Since they’d been married—all of ten hours ago—Eva didn’t think they’d physically separated from each other.
They sat at a cozy corner table on velvet cushioned chairs and Eva eyed Donovan while the maître d’ made a show of spreading the snow-white napkin in her lap.
“Is that a rack of lamb?” Eva asked in a whisper, pointing at a diner’s platter.
“Why are you whispering?” Donovan whispered back.
“I feel like we’re in a library or a museum.”
He grinned and Eva sighed resting her chin on her hand. “You are so good looking. It should be illegal.”
“And I’m all yours.”
What insane twist of fate did she have to thank for that? Eva wondered. “Pregnant, married, and finally going on our first date,” she said.
Donovan drew her knuckles to his lips. “Yeah, that sounds about right where you and I are concerned. I know it feels fast. But Eva, I’ve been waiting a lifetime for this.”
“Are we insane? I mean literally insane,” Eva asked. “We’ve done everything backwards and I’m worried you’re going to come to your senses.”
He rubbed a thumb over her palm, a reassuring pressure. “When are you going to get it through your thick head that I’m here to stay?”
“Maybe by our twentieth anniversary?”
Eva picked up her menu and sneaked a peek at the tables around them. “Is this really where you would have taken me on our first date?”
Her husband gave her a dry look. “Hell no. Do I look like the gold filigree swan type? This is the only place I can guarantee we won’t run into a single Mooner. It’s twenty miles out of town and there isn’t a vegan option on the menu.”
“No interruptions.” Eva smiled sweetly.
“No interruptions. Just me and my wife on our first official date.”
Eva felt the blood drain from her head as reality punched her in the face. “Oh my god. We’re married. And I’m having your baby. And I barely know you. Donovan! What were we thinking?”
Donovan leaned in concerned. “Is this hormones?”
“I don’t know! Maybe? I’ve never accidentally gotten pregnant before. Maybe it’s just regular, run of the mill insanity? We don’t even live together! How did all this happen?” She felt dizzy.
“Here. Drink.” Donovan thrust her water glass at her and fanned her with his napkin.
Eva gulped down half of the glass.
“What if I’m terrible at being a wife? What if I’m the worst mother in the history of mothers?”
“Now, listen to me, wife of mine. You are an incredible woman and it’s about fucking time you started realizing it. Just by being you, you’re going to be great at the whole wife and mother thing. Sure, we’re both going to fuck up and repeatedly. But we’ll learn together.”
“Together.” She nodded like a bobble head.
“There is no point panicking over this. We’re married. We’re having a baby. As we speak, Jax and Carter are moving your things into our house. I love you and we’re going to live happily ever after.”
Eva took a deep breath. She reached for his hand and ran her fingers over the plain gold band on his finger. “Okay.” She nodded. “Okay. I can do this. We can do this. I love the hell out of you. I’m sure I’m going to love our baby. You have an amazing kitchen. Yeah. Okay. We can do this.”
“I was thinking about turning the loft into your office… if you’d like to work there. I can make you a desk, a big one. And bookshelves. You can put up a big white board on the wall so you can map out your books.”
Eva stared at him, wide-eyed and woozy.
“You’ll write and cook. We’ll raise our daughter or son. Get a dog. It’s going to be a good, solid life, Eva. I promise you that.”
“I love your faith in us,” she whispered.
“I love your worry. It means you care.”
“I do, Donovan. More than anything. I just can’t believe that this is my life. I don’t want screw it up.”
“Baby. We’re a team. We’ll keep each other from screwing up and if a mistake still slips in, we’ll clean it up together.”
An invisible weight lifted and Eva gave him a damp-eyed smile. She was one hell of a lucky woman. “Whew. Okay. I’m chalking that one up to hormones. No more freak outs tonight,” she promised.
“No freak outs. No interruptions.” He raised his water glass to hers.
“To the beginning of a beautiful, quiet life together,” Eva toasted.
“Excuse me?” A woman in a sequined black cocktail dress approached, a napkin and pen clutched in one hand and reading glasses in the other.
She was staring at Eva with unusual intensity. Eva shifted uncomfortably in her seat.
“Can we help you?” Donovan asked.
“Oh!” The woman leaned in and screeched six inches from Eva’s face. “It is you! Herbert! This is Ava Franklin.” The dining room chatter came to a screeching halt around them.
“Ava what?” Herbert, in a tan suit, harrumphed through his white moustache. He looked like the type of man who’d have a monocle.
“Franklin! You know.” The woman fluttered her ringed hands like a hummingbird. “The one whose book you found so instructive.”
Eva choked on her ice water and Donovan coughed into his napkin.
“Oh, I can’t tell you how much I love your books! Do you live around here? Are we neighbors?” She slapped her husband in the chest. “Herbert, get my phone. I need a picture. This is the famous author Ava Franklin,” the woman announced to the room.
Donovan slumped a little in his seat as women—and a few curious men—started forming a line. His shoulders shook with silent laughter.
Eva held up her menu in front of their faces. “I’m so sorry! I swear after this, no more interruptions. Just hang in there a little longer.”
Donovan grinned, that quick, panty-melting smile. “Baby, you’re worth the wait.”