Declan
One year later
I threw open the front door and called out for my wife. “Cassie.”
“Dec.”
“Cass?”
“Declan.”
I rounded the corner and came to halt. My adorably pregnant—seemed the pill didn’t really work for us—perfect wife was standing in the kitchen with her hands on her hips, looking pissed.
“There you are.”
“There I am? No. There you are.” I was equally as pissed. “Where is Wyllie?”
She poked me in the chest. “He’s napping. Which is a good thing because I’m about to kick your ass.”
My eyes got wide. “Kick my ass? Your brother knocked up my best employee.”
Cassie shook her head. “Oh no you don’t. Your asshole bestie knocked up my only friend.”
We stood there, staring at each other, both pissed at a bad situation. But neither really mad at the other. Cassie started to smile, which caused me to start laughing. “Brice is a moron.”
She shrugged. “He’s a moron who’s in love, and terrified.”
I pulled her into my arms, kissing her sweet lips. “He helped us when we were too stupid to see what was right in front of our faces.”
Cassie snorted. “You mean when you were too stupid?”
I nodded. “Yes, princess, when I was too stupid.” I took a step back. “So what do you think?”
She smiled. “I think payback’s a bitch.”