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together! Of course they know.”
    “Well, at least they have one daughter doing things the right way.”
    “What? Me?” Layla shook her head and laughter overtook her again. “I’ve hardly done anything right!”
    “You’ll have a real wedding. That’ll mean a lot to Mom. And you won’t have to shop in the maternity section of the bridal store.”
    “Are you guys getting married?”
    “I don’t . . . we haven’t even talked about it.”
    “Oh.” Layla furrowed her brow, Emma’s miserable expression nagging at her. “You want to marry Cole, don’t you, Em?”
    There was a pause before Emma spoke, her voice tight with emotion. “Yes.” Tears spilled onto her cheeks. “But not like this. Not because he has to marry me.”
    “He doesn’t have to.”
    “That’s not what Dad’s gonna say.”
    Layla sighed and got up from her side of the booth, sliding in next to Emma and wrapping an arm around her shoulders. “This isn’t about Dad. It’s not about anyone but you and Cole. You can get married, not get married or get married later. You probably need to just focus on one thing at a time, you know? Take care of yourself and the baby. You don’t have to come up with all the answers right now.”
    “You’re right,” Emma said, wiping her cheeks. “You always make me feel better than anyone else can.”
    “That’s what sisters are for. Fighting over boys, making each other feel better and choosing God-awful bridesmaid dresses for each other.”
    Emma laughed and shook her head. “Like I won’t look bad enough big and pregnant?”
    “No. I insist you wear a taffeta dress with ruffles and puffy sleeves. The worse you look, the better I’ll look.”
    “Are you kidding me?” Emma groaned.
    Layla rolled her eyes and scoffed. “Of course I’m kidding. Mostly.”

Chapter Three
    Emma stared at the fuzzy white blur on the square of paper she’d just affixed to the front of the refrigerator with a magnet. It was tiny – nearly indistinguishable, but it had turned her world upside down.
    “Can you do anything about this non-stop puking?” she asked the pinpoint-sized spot on the paper the sonogram technician had handed her that morning. “If you can make that stop, I’ll buy you a smart phone or something.”
    “What’s up?” Cole asked, walking into the kitchen with a grin. “You chatting with Squirt?”
    “I’m bribing this baby before the first trimester’s even over. I’m gonna be a stellar mom. And Squirt? Is that your pet name for our kid?”
    Cole shrugged. “Seems fitting since a squirt is how I knocked you up. And speaking of the first trimester, it’ll be over soon. Why the hell haven’t we told our parents, Em? This is getting ridiculous.”
    “We were going to, but then Layla—”
    “That was weeks ago. We’ve had lots of chances to go over there since, but you always find an excuse not to.”
    “I’m really bad at telling people something they aren’t going to like.” Emma pulled a bottle of wine from the cooler, uncorked it and bent to inhale its scent. She missed her favorite drink like crazy.
    “Yeah, we’ve both seen how that works out,” Cole said, arching his brows. “I’ll tell them if you want.” He took the wine bottle from her hands, re-corked it and placed it back in the cooler.
    Emma laughed at the absurdity of the visual. “What, like, ‘Hey Mr. Carson, I got Emma pregnant. Did you catch that game last night?”
    Cole smirked and approached, laying his hands on her hips. “I was thinking more along the lines of, ‘Hey Mr. Carson, you’re daughter’s a nympho who likes me to spank her ass and call her a dirty girl. I must’ve knocked her up the last time I bent her over and did it.”
    Emma drew back with a smile. “Oh, I’m a nympho? What about you?”
    “You know me, Em. If you weren’t feeling sick I’d fuck you up against this kitchen counter right now.”
    “Yeah. If you jostled me too much, I might puke and traumatize you