Page 22 of Happily Evan After

“That is quite a shiner you’ve got,” Flynn says.

“I suspected as much yesterday, watching you with her, but am I right to assume you want to be with Marley?” Dane asks. “Long term?”

“You know what’s funny? I totally asked her to marry me that night. She never answered. Probably assumed I was joking, and maybe I was. But I think a part of me knew she was meant to be mine. The baby proves that.”

“So then what’s the problem?” Beau asks.

“She doesn’t want to be with me,” I say. “Or at least she doesn’t want to be an obligation to me.”

“That’s easy enough to fix,” Liam says.

All eyes turn to him.

“You just have to show up. Again and again. Eventually she’ll believe that you mean what you say. That you’re not going anywhere. And that you’ll wait for her as long as she needs you to.”

I nod. “I can do that.”

“You bet your ass you can,” Flynn says. “And we’ll help.”

chapter

twelve

Marley

I came straight home after Shelby’s, stopping only once to pick up a burger to go from Ace’s Bar and Grill. I’ve never really been one for hamburgers, but these are ridiculously tasty, and I guess the baby needed some meat.

I’d devoured that and taken a shower and crawled into my bed, e-reader in hand, ready to disappear into the historical romance I’d been reading. All three cats had been piled on the bed with me. Even Ambrosia, my bitchy long-haired calico. She’d never been one for snuggling, but ever since I got pregnant, she joins the boys, Basil and Badger, on the bed.

Though she tends to stay down at my feet, whereas my sweet boys are closer to my head.

My phone had pinged. And pinged again. And then three more times. It was already plugged into the charger, and normally I had a no phone in my bed rule, but given the events of the day, I pick it up.

EVAN: Marley.

EVAN: It feels amazing to know your actual name now.

EVAN: Though you’ll always be Dimples to me.

EVAN: You have no idea how happy I am that we’ve found each other again.

EVAN: Feels very serendipitous.

I’m smiling.

That’s annoying that five simple text messages from that man can make me smile so big that my cheeks hurt. He’s so charming and—romantic. There’s no other way to describe him. It felt that way in the lake house that night, but I’d chalked it up to just the whole spontaneity of the evening.

EVAN: Will you tell me more about the pregnancy? How you’ve been feeling?

EVAN: Are you taking enough folic acid?

EVAN: I really wish I’d been here from the beginning. When you first found out.

ME: Hi.

Wow, am I lame or what?

Hi, I’m Marley. I have no social skills. Even when texting.