The Perfect Hope Part 3

Clare swiped at tears as she grinned at Avery. "You don't see them."

"No, but they're gorgeous. Twins. That's five. You did the math, right? You're going to have five boys."

"We did the math, but it's still sinking in. We didn't expect-we never thought-maybe I should have. I'm bigger than I've ever been this early. But when the doctor told us ... Beckett went white."

She laughed, even as tears poured. "Sheet white. I thought he was going to pa.s.s out. Then we just stared at each other. And then we started to laugh. We laughed like lunatics. I think maybe we were both a little hysterical. Five. Oh, sweet Jesus. Five boys."

"You'll be great. All of you," Hope told her.

"We will. I know it. I'm so dazzled, so happy, so stunned. I don't know how Beckett drove home. I couldn't tell you if we drove back from Hagerstown or from California. I was in some sort of shock, I think. Twins."

She laid her hands on her belly. "Do you know how there are moments in your life when you think, this is it. I'll never be happier or more excited. I'll never feel more than I do right now. Just exactly now. This is one of those moments for me."

Hope folded her into a hug, and Avery folded them both.

"I'm so happy for you," Hope murmured. "Happy, dazzled, and excited right along with you."

"The kids are going to get such a kick out of this." Avery drew back. "Right?"

"Yeah. And since Liam already made it clear if I had a girl he wouldn't stoop so low as to play with her, I think he'll be especially pleased."

"What about your due date?" Hope asked. "Earlier with twins?"

"A little. They told me November twenty-first. So, Thanksgiving babies instead of Christmas, New Year's."

"Gobble, gobble," Avery said and made Clare laugh again.

"You have to let us help set up the nursery," Hope began. Planning was in her blood.

"I'm counting on it. I don't have a thing. I gave away all the baby things after Murphy. I never thought I'd fall in love again, or marry again, or have more children."

"Can we say baby shower? A double-the-fun theme," Hope decided. "Or what comes in pairs, sets of two. Something like that. I'll work on it. We should schedule it in early October, just to be safe."

"Baby shower." Clare sighed. "More and more real. I need to call my parents, and I need to tell the girls," she added, referring to her bookstore staff. She levered herself up. "November babies," she said again. "I should have shed the baby weight by May and the wedding."

"Oh yeah, I'm getting married." Avery held out her hand, admired the diamond that replaced the bubble-gum-machine ring Owen had put on her finger. Twice.

"Getting married, and opening a second restaurant, and helping plan a baby shower, and redecorating the current single guy's master suite into a couple's master suite." Hope poked Avery in the arm. "We have a lot of planning to do."

"I can take some time tomorrow."

"Good." Hope took a moment to flip through her mental list, rearrange tasks, gauge the timing. "One o'clock. I can clear the time. Can you make that?" she asked Clare. "I can fix us a little lunch and we can get some of the planning worked out before I have check-ins."

"One o'clock tomorrow." Clare patted her belly. "We'll be there."

"I'll be over," Avery promised. "If I'm a little later, we had a good lunch rush. But I'll get over."

Hope walked out with Clare, grabbed another hug before separating. And imagined Clare telling her parents the happy news. Imagined, too, Avery texting Owen. And Beckett slipping off to check on Clare during the day, or just stealing a few minutes to bask with her.

For a moment she wished she had someone to call or text, or slip away to, someone to share the lovely news with.

Instead she went around the back of the inn, up the outside stairs. She let herself in on the third floor, listening as she walked down to her apartment.

Yes, she thought, she could just hear Carolee's voice, and the excitement in it. No doubt Justine Montgomery had already called her sister to share the news about the twins.

Hope closed herself into her apartment. She'd spend a couple hours in the quiet, she decided, researching their resident ghost, and the man named Billy she waited for.

CHAPTER TWO

HIS MOTHER WAS DRIVING HIM CRAZY. IF SHE POPPED UP with another project before he finished one of the half dozen currently on his plate, he might just take his dog and move to Barbados.

He could build himself a nice little beach house. Maybe a lanai. He had the skills.

Ryder pulled his truck into the lot behind the inn, major project, finished-thank G.o.d-but never really done because there was always something. The inn shared that lot with what would be, according to the ever-plotting Justine Montgomery, a pretty, clever, state-of-the-art fitness center.

Right now it was an ugly, green, flat-roofed, leaky lump. And that was just the outside. Inside currently boasted a rabbit warren of rooms, a bas.e.m.e.nt full of water, staircases out of a horror movie, and falling-down ceilings. Not to mention the abysmal state of the wiring and plumbing, which he wouldn't since they'd just gut the whole f.u.c.king mess.

Part of him wanted to sneak in some night on a giant machine and bulldoze the whole fugly building. But he knew better, and could admit he enjoyed a challenge.

He had one.

Still, as the always reliable Owen had texted him the demo permit was in, at least they could start tearing in.

Ryder sat a moment with his homely and sweet-natured dog, Dumba.s.s, beside him while Lady Gaga seduced the edge of glory. Chick was pretty weird, Ryder thought, but she sure had the pipes.

Together Ryder and his dog studied the ugly green lump. He liked demo. Beating the s.h.i.+t out of walls never failed to satisfy. So that was something. And the work, transforming the ugly b.a.s.t.a.r.d, would be interesting.

A fitness center. He didn't understand people who plugged themselves into a machine and went nowhere. Why not do something constructive that made you sweat? A gym, yeah, he could see a gym with speed bags, a sparring ring, some serious weights. But fitness center said girly to him. Yoga and that Pilates stuff.

And women in those snug little outfits, he reminded himself. Yeah, there was that. Like demo, who wouldn't enjoy that?

No point brooding about it anyway, he decided. It was a done deal.

He got out of the truck, and D.A. hopped out faithfully beside him.

He couldn't figure out why he was in such a broody mood anyway. The bakery project was down to punch-out and paint, Avery's MacT's was coming right along-and he looked forward to sitting down on a bar stool in her new pub and having a beer.

He had a kitchen remodel all but wrapped, and Owen was handling some built-ins for another client. A lot of work was better than no work. He could build a beach house in Barbados when he was old.

Still, he felt edgy and annoyed, and couldn't quite figure out why. Until he glanced over at the inn.

Hope Beaumont. Yeah, that might account for some edgy.