20. Tabby

TWENTY

TABBY

I smoothed my hands over the curve of my belly, taking a deep breath as I checked myself out in the mirror. I owned exactly one cocktail dress that was neither appropriate for a June wedding nor able to fit over my gigantic belly. So, I’d ordered this pleated black chiffon dress online.

I wrinkled my nose, turning side to side.

“What’s wrong?”

I glanced up from the mirror in the bedroom to find Nate leaning against the doorjamb, handsome in his black suit and tie, beard and hair freshly trimmed.

“You look really good,” I said, gesturing between us. “And I look like I’m wearing a garbage bag.”

He crossed the room, wrapping his arms around me, Lucy dancing at our feet. “You look beautiful.”

“I look huge.”

He skated his hands down to palm my belly. “I think you look like an eight-months-pregnant woman.”

“Very swollen.” I poked at my face. I’d never thought of myself as particularly worried about my appearance, but lately, I couldn’t stop obsessing. My face was broken out, my feet didn’t fit into my shoes, and I couldn’t stop sweating. Physically, this pregnancy was relatively easy, but I still didn’t like how different I felt in my body. Like it wasn’t my own.

I had no control over it.

Nate kissed my jaw, his beard soft against my skin. He used this beard oil that smelled delicious, and sometimes I found myself dragging his face down to mine just to get a whiff, let it soak into my skin so I still smelled him when he left for work.

“Did you drink enough water today?” he asked, and I pointedly ignored him. “Tabitha,” he chided, steering me out of the bedroom.

“I don’t want to have to pee every five minutes.”

He took my hand to lead me downstairs. “I think you’ll have to pee every five minutes, regardless of how much you drink.”

In the kitchen, he filled up my Maleficent water bottle to hand to me.

“I can’t take this with me.”

“Why not?

“It’ll be weird, me carrying this around the whole time.”

So then he shrugged and tucked it under his arm. “Let’s go.”

I didn’t bother with a bag since I had my own personal man-sized purse, and I let him usher me out to the car, parked in the back. Gen and Dylan’s wedding was at the historical society’s building downtown, only two blocks from where Nate’s new wine bar and bistro was located.

After we parked, he laced his fingers with mine and waved to another couple, Liam and his fiancée Kennedy, making their way inside. They slowed so we could catch up, a little boy antsy between them.

Kennedy greeted me with a hug. “How are you feeling?”

“Terrible,” I said, only half joking.

As promised, Gen had put together a little girls’ night with Kennedy and Brooke a few weeks ago. It was fun. We ate junk food and watched a few rom-coms and talked about our guys. I’d never had very close girlfriends, and while I hadn’t known Kennedy or Brooke that long, we all got along. We would have to anyway since all four of our men were best friends. Where one went, they all followed, and if they had their own little club, Gen said we’d need one too.

Brooke had suggested Tits and Tater Tots, and we all agreed, so our group text thread now had a name and a little graphic Kennedy had put together of a tater tot with red lipstick and big boobs.

Now, Kennedy gently squeezed my arm. “Not much longer until Frogger’s here.”

I nodded in agreement as Liam scooped up his son to introduce him to me. I’d heard about Finn, the hyperactive little boy and the reason Liam and Kennedy had met, when she was hired to be his nanny.

“Finn, this is Tabby,” he said. “Can you say hi?”

“Hi!” he shouted, while waving a dinosaur in my face. “This is Rex!”

“Hi, Finn,” I laughed as Nate held out his hand to him for a high five.

“Volume down, buddy,” Liam said. “Everybody can hear you fine in your normal voice.”

Finn merely kicked to get down and then tugged on Kennedy’s hand so she’d lower her big purse. The little boy plucked out a snack-size bag of cheese crackers. He tore it open, the crackers spilling everywhere. Kennedy bent in her dress to pick them all up as Finn proceeded to put his mouth on the ground and literally hoover them up.

“Jesus fucking Christ,” Liam muttered as Nate tossed his head back to laugh before kneeling down to help with the crackers.

“Don’t worry,” Kennedy told me cheerfully as she stood, about half the crackers in her hand. “They’re not all like Finn.”

Thank god for that. He was adorable with his glasses and messy hair, like his dad, but that kid was a lot .

“Yeah.” Liam slapped Nate’s back. “I’m sure yours is gonna be an angel.”

I shook my head in amusement and accepted a cracker when Kennedy held her hand out to me. Why not?

By the time we found the room, Finn and I had polished off the crackers, and we all ducked into a row of open seats. A few minutes later, Jude showed up with Brooke, his two kids in tow. Sebastian was somewhere between eight and sixteen—I couldn’t remember if they paid me—while Amelia, the little girl, was in kindergarten. They filled out the rest of the row, Finn playing on the floor in front of us.

Gen had told us this would be a kid-friendly wedding. They wanted to include Dylan’s kids, so they decided to let everyone bring their kids. But according to some of my quick math, there were still only about eighty people here, even with the few young ones included.

Dylan appeared at the end of the aisle, his four-year-old son Tucker next to him, both of them in navy suits and pink ties. Dylan jutted his chin in our direction as his attention skirted over the guests. When it landed on a few people in the front—his family, I assumed—he smiled at them then took a visible breath, his shoulders rising.

I settled back in my seat as the music started, signaling the beginning of the ceremony. All heads turned to watch as Scarlett, Dylan’s seven-year-old daughter, trotted down the aisle first. A huge smile graced her face as she carried a small bouquet of light-pink roses, clearly relishing her role as maid of honor.

Then we all rose as the bride emerged on the arm of her father. I had yet to meet Mr. Kozlowski and studied him with interest. He had salt-and-pepper hair and a somber face, carrying himself stiffly in his suit. Though, he looked at his daughter with clear affection.

Genevieve was a vision in her gown, with lace and crystal embellishments that made it look like something out of the 1920s while still displaying her small bump. She wore her short hair pulled back with two tiny diamond clips, her mouth curved with the biggest smile I’d ever seen. Of course, she wore her red lipstick. It was a staple, after all.

Dylan fidgeted ever so slightly with every step, as if he couldn’t wait for her to get to him, and when they finally held hands, he bent to whisper something in her ear that made her blush and laugh.

The officiant began speaking, his voice carrying through the microphone, but I found myself only half listening, studying Nate’s profile instead. He looked so much like his father—same jaw, intense gaze, tall frame. Yet Nate’s eyes were warmer, his smile easier, his presence more open and approachable.

My heart fluttered as he turned to meet my eyes. The corner of his mouth quirked up before he reached over to give my hand a quick squeeze. I laced my fingers through his, leaning into him. His body was solid and reassuring against mine.

Nate had become my rock, my safe place, and with him, I’d found a family again. Being here, surrounded by his loved ones, I felt that sense of belonging even more strongly.

Maybe one day, it would be me walking down the aisle toward Nate. But for the moment, I treasured the journey we were on together. I rested my head on his shoulder, listening to his steady breathing, as we watched his sister pledge her love.

And when Dylan and Gen were pronounced husband and wife, Nate let out a loud whoop, tears in his eyes.

This man. Such a softy.

The rest of us stood, clapping and cheering for the couple as they walked down the aisle. Finn tried to make a run for it, but Nate caught him and hung him over his shoulder, the little boy kicking and giggling.

All the guests were led out to a terrace, and Nate immediately found me a chair to sit in, even while everyone else stood around high-top tables. It was gorgeous outside, the sun just starting to set with a light breeze. Small appetizers were laid out buffet-style at one end, with a bar at the other.

Nate brought me a plate with one of everything, and he stayed by my side as friends and family stopped by to talk to him. He introduced me to each of them, but every single name immediately left my brain, though they were all kind and welcoming.

After about an hour, we were brought back inside to the same room as the ceremony, transformed for the reception. Nate plucked our seating cards from a small side table, next to the gifts, and we made our way to our seats, next to Liam, Jude, and company.

When the DJ announced the newlyweds for their first dance, Nate stood and pulled me up too, keeping me close as we watched Dylan and Gen sway together, foreheads touching. The pure love surrounding this little wedding was overwhelming. I felt tears prick my eyes and leaned into Nate’s side.

“You okay?” he murmured, noticing my tears.

I smiled and nodded, wiping at my eyes. “Just happy.”

Nate’s eyes softened. “Me too.”

As more couples joined the newlyweds on the dance floor, Nate tugged me out as well. He held me as close as my belly would allow, slowly rocking us back and forth, Frogger making themselves known with a few kicks.

Nate laughed against my ear, his hand moving to find the movement.

“Careful, Frog. Mom’s got to last a few more hours.”

I grinned, loving each and every time Nate acknowledged me as Mom or Mama.

Though I hadn’t called him Frogger’s dad, he was in every way that counted. I still needed to gather my courage and take that step. Tell him how much I loved him and let him know that he was Frogger’s father. That I wanted him to be a permanent person in not only my life but the baby’s life too.

But then we were asked to be seated for dinner, and I was given a reprieve. I would tell him. Eventually.

Not tonight.