I don’t argue with him; I can see the worry, felt it in his embrace.

  We’ve been married for less than a week and already it’s a wild ride. I can only imagine what the next fifty years are going to be like.

  The last two weeks have flown by. After the scare with the crazy fan, I had all new state-of-the-art security installed in our new house. It was on the list of things to do when we got back from Hawaii anyway, but I bumped it up because of that crazy-as-fuck Tracy chick.

  We also made a trip to Ohio to get more of Lauren’s things. We left the furniture for now, until we decide if we’re selling or staying, but we packed up everything else and the movers delivered it for us. The flight is just over an hour, so we flew instead of driving, making it easier on Lauren.

  She’s slowly unpacking and putting her touch on our place. She keeps asking my opinion, and I keep reminding her that I’m a guy and don’t really have an opinion. What the fuck do I know about decorating? As long as it makes her happy, I’m good with it.

  We have all the rooms furnished except for the baby’s. Apparently we’re having a gender reveal party before we decide on Sprout’s room. I’m headed home now to get Lauren so we can go to her sixteen-week appointment. I’ve been at the label all morning, finalizing paperwork with the guys for the name change. Who would’ve thought there were so many fucking documents to change a business name?

  Pulling up to the house, I don’t bother with the garage—not that my truck would fit in it anyway. I went ahead and bought me a kid-safe vehicle too. I kept my Audi, not ready to get rid of it just yet, but I needed something safe to drive with the baby too. I noticed a blacked-out Chevy one-ton truck when I got Lauren’s Tahoe, and I went back and bought it. My wife just shook her head and smiled. I finally had to sit her down and show her my accounts so she would stop worrying and buy new furniture for the house. Now she just lets me be. I don’t go crazy, just on the essentials. We needed a home, we needed safe vehicles for our baby, and my girl needed clothes that didn’t cut into her skin.

  I called a contractor yesterday to add a bay onto the garage for my truck. Nashville winters can get cold and snowy, and the baby doesn’t need to be out in that if possible. I added it to my list of essentials.

  “Lauren!” I yell as I enter the house.

  “Almost ready!” her voice carries from the top of the stairs.

  I look up, following the sound of her voice, and she appears. Her long brown hair hangs in waves over her shoulders. She’s wearing a tight white T-shirt that showcases her prominent baby bump. She’s gorgeous.

  “Hey, babe,” she says cheerily, kissing me on the cheek. “How did it go?”

  “Hey.” I bend down and kiss her lips. “I missed you.” She smiles. “It’s done. We signed the last bit of the paperwork today. Now we just wait for everything to get filed and we can officially announce Soul Records.”

  “That is so exciting!”

  “That it is. Next week we’re going to start on branding, a new logo and all that.”

  “I can’t wait to see it,” she says, pulling open the door to the truck. I stand behind her, my hand out just in case she falls. It’s not jacked up but it is tall, and I worry… all the time. It’s irrational, but that’s me when it comes to Ren and the baby.

  “Nervous?” I ask her after we’ve signed in for her appointment and are sitting in the lobby, waiting for her name to be called.

  “Not nervous, just excited. I hope they can tell what it is.”

  “We’re not finding out though, right?”

  “Not until this weekend at the gender reveal. The tech is going to put the sex in a sealed envelope, which I have to give to Logan. She’s going to take care of the rest.”

  “Do you have a preference?”

  “Healthy. Not that I wouldn’t love it otherwise,” she’s quick to add. “You?”

  I’ve actually thought about this a lot. “I’d love a little girl with her momma’s big brown eyes, but honestly, I don’t know how I would handle that. She’s not dating until she’s thirty. No wait, make it forty.” She laughs. “Honestly, either is good with me.”

  “Lauren Andrews,” the lady calls out.

  “We changed your name,” I grumble, and Lauren elbows me lightly. When we reach the nurse, I remind her. “It’s Lauren Lewis now. Can you please make a note in the chart?”

  “Of course, Mr. Lewis. Right this way.”

  We follow her back to the exam room, where she’ll give us a rundown of today’s appointment. “Lauren, have a seat on the table. We’re going to take your vitals, and then the doctor will be in. After your appointment, we’ll send you over to the ultrasound room.”

  The nurse isn’t even out of the room before the doctor comes in. “Lauren, it’s nice to meet you. I’m Dr. Fields.” He holds his hand out to her. “And you must be Dad,” he says to me, offering me his hand.

  “Dad, husband, I go by both,” I confirm, releasing his hand and sitting back in my chair, crossing my arms over my chest.

  Lauren gives me a warning look, one that only a wife can give her husband. She’s perfected it in such a short time. I have to bite my lip to hide my smile.

  “We’re just going to take some measurements, listen for the heartbeat, and then do your ultrasound. Do you have any questions?”

  “No, I don’t think so. The morning sickness seems to have subsided. I get a little queasy here and there, but nothing like the first trimester.”

  “Good.”

  I watch as he lifts Lauren’s shirt, then sets a tape measure along her belly.

  “What are you doing?” I ask.

  “We measure at each appointment to gauge the growth of the baby. Lauren is doing just fine. Baby is right on target.” He places the tape on the counter and reaches into the cabinet, pulling out the Doppler.

  “We have one of those,” I tell him.

  “Many do these days. Have you been listening?”

  “Every night. I talk to the baby too. Can he or she hear me?” I read that the baby can hear me so that’s why I do it.

  “Absolutely. You’ll find that once the baby is born, if he or she is fussy, they will be comforted by the voices heard the most while in the womb. Many people listen to music, or audiobooks, even going as far as placing headphones on their belly.” He moves the Doppler around until the beat comes through the speaker. “Nice galloping sound, strong.”

  “A rhythm,” I say, tapping my foot.

  Lauren smiles over at me. “My husband is a drummer,” she tells him.

  “Ah,” the doctor responds, like that explains it all. “Well, everything looks great. You’re right on schedule, still measuring at sixteen weeks. I’ll send the nurse in to take you to the ultrasound room. Any questions?” Lifting his head from his laptop, he looks at each of us in turn.

  “As she gets farther along, sex is still okay?” I ask him.

  “Yes, sex is perfectly healthy.”

  I look over at Lauren and her face is flushed from her blush.

  “Thank you,” I tell him. He nods and leaves the room.

  “Tristan!” Lauren scolds me.

  “What?” I hold my hands up in defense. “Babe, I needed to know for sure. No way am I going to hurt either of you.” She shakes her head, not knowing what to do with me. “Come on, you know I’m not the first person to ask that question.”

  Before she can answer, there’s a knock at the door. “Hey, y’all ready to meet your baby?” the nurse asks.

  “Yes,” we say at the same time.

  I offer Lauren my hand and help her from the table. We follow the nurse down the hall and into another room, similar to the one from the spa a few weeks ago. I’m not near as nervous this time.

  “Hop up on the table and pull up your shirt,” the nurse says. “The tech will be right in.”

  Lauren is just settling back on the table when the tech enters the room. “Hello, my name is Alice. I’ll be taking some pictures of your baby today.” She walks over to the machine, presses some buttons, and then grabs the bottle of gel. “This might be a little cold,” she warns Lauren as she places a glob of it across her belly.

  I watch, holding my breath as she moves the wand around and Sprout appears on the screen. “Wow, so much change from just a few weeks ago,” I murmur, not taking my eyes off the image.

  “Oh, have you had an ultrasound prior? Your chart didn’t mention it,” Alice says.

  “Yes, we went to the Mommy and Me Spa a couple of weeks ago.”

  Alice smiles. “So, before I put my foot in my mouth, are we finding out the gender?”

  “We’d like for you to put it in an envelope. Our friends are throwing a gender reveal party for us,” Lauren tells her.

  “Perfect. Those are so fun,” Alice comments. “Now let’s get started. Here we have a leg.” She stops to type ‘leg’ on the screen. “An arm.” She types that out as well, and that’s how the rest of the appointment goes. Alice points out limbs, fingers, toes, organs, takes measurements, and prints a ton of pictures. “Now I’m going to turn the screen away so I can mark the gender.”

  “Can you tell? I mean, is it obvious?” Lauren asks.

  “Yes, it’s clear as day.” She smiles. “Some are not so lucky, but your little one is cooperating just fine.”

  Pulling Lauren’s hand to my mouth, I kiss her knuckles. “We made that,” I say, overcome once again with emotions from seeing our baby inside of her.

  “All right, Dad. I’m going to give you this.” Alice hands me a sealed envelope. “And these.”

  I take them from her, not even trying to hide my smile. I’m going to be someone’s dad.

  “No peeking,” my wife warns me.

  “No peeking.” In this envelope is the answer to if we have a son or daughter on the way. Saturday cannot get here fast enough.

  “Morning, babe,” Tristan nuzzles my neck. “You ready for today?”

  “Five more minutes,” I beg. It took me forever to get to sleep last night, knowing that today we’re going to find out the gender of the baby. At that thought, my eyes pop open, making my husband laugh.

  “I was wondering when it would hit you.”

  “What time is it?”

  “Ten. I let you sleep in. I made you breakfast, and then we have to be at Kacen’s at one.”

  “That’s three more hours,” I whine.

  “Up you go,” he says, placing a sloppy kiss on my cheek before standing and leaving the room.

  I rush though a shower and getting dressed. When I get downstairs, I find Tristan sitting at the kitchen island, scrolling through his phone. When he sees me, he stands and pushes the button on the toaster to lower my bagel. “Breakfast of champions.” He grins.

  “I’m not complaining.” I’ve gotten used to a plain toasted bagel with peanut butter for breakfast. At first it was one of the only things I could hold down with the morning sickness, but now it’s just because it’s my favorite.

  “I talked to your parents just a little bit ago,” Tristan says as he slathers peanut butter on my bagel.

  “What did they have to say?”

  He hands me the bagel, then pours a glass a milk and sets it in front of me. “I wanted to make sure they were all set up with the video chat and knew how to do it all. Didn’t want them to miss it.”

  Just one of the many reasons why I love him. “What about your parents?”

  “Talked to Dad, he’s got them covered. They’re at port today, so it’s a good time.”

  Tristan’s parents love to travel. They’re on another cruise, this time in Alaska. “Great, I think that covers it.”

  He glances at the clock on the wall. “I’m going crazy checking the time every twenty seconds.”

  “Why don’t we just head over and help set up?”

  “You ready?” he asks with a childlike grin.

  “Slow your roll, drummer boy. Let me finish my breakfast.” He throws his head back and laughs. “You know, once we find out the sex, we’re going to have to pick out a name.”

  He nods, suddenly serious. “I know. We’ve gotta do Sprout a solid. We can’t be giving him or her some crazy name like Potato. He’s going to get made fun of. Oh, and easy to spell.”

  “I think that can be arranged.”

  Reaching into the drawer on the island, he pulls out a small wrapped present and slides it over to me. “I was going to wait, but since you brought it up.” He shrugs.

  “I brought up presents?”

  “Just open it, woman.” He pushes the gift a little closer to me with his index finger.

  Picking up the box, I slowly peel the paper back, and tears prick my eyes. “Tristan.”

  “I thought tonight we could look through it and see if we can give Sprout a real name.”

  I hold the baby name book up to my chest. “I don’t know what I did in this lifetime to be here with you, living our lives together, but I am grateful every single day for you.”

  He steps to my side of the island and presses his lips to mine. “Love you, Mrs. Lewis.” His hands go to my belly. “Daddy loves you too, Sprout.”

  I lose my composure at that, seeing this man, so rough and tough, yet so incredibly tender when it comes to me and our baby. I run my fingers over his hair. “Love you too,” I say through my tears.

  “I’m going to go shower. I’ll be down in a few.” With a quick kiss, he’s up the stairs.

  I manage to eat the rest of my bagel while skimming through the name book. That’s how Tristan finds me fifteen minutes later.

  “Look at you, getting a head start.”

  “Some of these are crazy. Uranus is actually in here.” I point to the page. “Who in the hell would name their child Uranus?”

  Tristan throws his head back in roaring laughter. “See, that’s what I’m saying. We need a nice name, not something people are going to make fun of. You know how many jokes that poor kid would be on the end of?”

  “People are crazy!” I say. “I mean really, do people actually name their children that? I can’t believe the publisher included it.” I toss the book on the counter and take my plate to the sink.

  “People do, I’m sure, but we, my darling wife, are not.” He kisses me. “You ready? I can’t take the suspense. Maybe everyone will be early and we can get this show on the road.”

  “Our parents,” I remind him.

  “Trust me, baby. They’re ready to tune in and find out just like we are.”

  “You’re probably right. Let me grab my phone.” I stand from the stool, but Tristan places his hand on my arm, stopping me.

  “I’ll get it, babe. You don’t need to maneuver those stairs again.”

  “You really do spoil me,” I say, hugging him tight.

  “You’re supposed to take care of your heart,” he murmurs before dashing upstairs.

  “I think we should just walk over,” I tell him when he comes back downstairs.

  “You feeling up to it?”

  “Yes, the exercise will do me some good.”

  “All right, babe, you ready?”

  I nod and he laces his fingers through mine, grabs his keys off the counter, and we head across the street to Kacen and Logan’s.

  “Looks like everyone’s here,” I say, walking up the driveway. Gavin’s and Cole and Stacy’s vehicles are sitting in the driveway.

  Tristan opens the door for us and yells out, “We’re here! Let’s get this party started!”

  A round of laughter comes from the living room.

  “Took you long enough,” Cole says when we join everyone.

  “What? Kace said one,” Tristan counters.

  “Yeah, we said one, but we figured you would’ve been here sooner than”—he looks at his watch—“eleven thirty.”

  “It was a struggle,” I tell them.

  “You ready?” Logan asks.

  I turn to face Tristan. “What about our parents?”

  Gavin holds up his cell phone, Kacen’s parents staring back at me. We wave and say our hellos through the small screen.

  “And yours,” Stacy says, holding up her cell with the same setup, only it’s my parents, Logan’s parents, and our grandma. I wave, not even trying to hide my smile.

  “Let’s do this.” Tristan pulls me into him.

  “Okay, we have to go outside,” Kacen directs us.

  We follow him out onto the deck and see two large boxes wrapped in white paper. There’s another on the table, only a smaller scale.

  “Okay,” Logan says. “The two of you have to pull the strings on these smoke bombs. Pink smoke for a girl and blue smoke for a boy.”

  Tristan and I stand side by side, smoke bombs in hand. “Wait!” I shout, getting everyone’s attention. “Do all of you already know?”

  “Just Kace,” Logan admits. “He helped me get it all together.”

  “Yeah, she wouldn’t even tell me. So hurry up, I can’t take the suspense,” Stacy commands. “I need to shop.”

  Tristan catches my eye. “Ready, Mrs. Lewis?”

  I nod. “Ready.”

  “On three,” he says. He counts off and we both pull the strings at the same time. Blue smoke surrounds us.

  A boy.

  We’re having a boy.

  “A boy!” Tristan drops his bomb on the deck and lifts me in the air, twirling us around. When he puts me on my feet, he drops to his knees and kisses my belly. “Hey, son,” he coos.

  I have to look away so I don’t start bawling like a baby. There are what has to be a hundred blue balloons floating into the sky. I find Logan and Stacy, who both have tears in their eyes. Looks like I’m not the only one my husband’s sweet side hits in the heartstrings.

  Tristan and I get a round of hugs and congratulations from our friends, talk to our parents for a few via video chat, and then Logan declares it’s time for cake. The white box on the table is lifted and the cutest cake of a baby boy wrapped in a blue blanket is revealed.

  “Are we doing this?” Cole asks once everyone is sitting around the table eating cake.

  Everyone freezes and turns to look at Stacy.

  “Depends,” she says, shrugging. “If Logan and Lauren feel like planning another one.”