“That by the end of this visit I’m going to want to toss myself under a train?” I unbuckled myself.

Skin crinkling around his eyes, he laughed. “No. That your mom welcomes me to the family by the end of the visit.”

“God,” I groaned, shaking my head. “I am not making the bet, because she totally will. She’ll probably start making booties for the nonexistent baby.”

He laughed again, and that right there made him all kinds of awesome all over again. Most guys would break about a dozen laws to get away from a marriage-­ and baby-­obsessed mom. I’d never tell him that though.

Sighing, I forced myself out of the truck and we didn’t even make it across all the flagstones before the front door flew open and my mom barreled out, her eyes wide as they darted from me to Reece to me and back again.

I swallowed a curse.

Mom stopped at the edge of the porch, clapping her hands together. Literally. She actually clapped. “Honey,” she said, smiling so widely that I thought her face might split into two. “Are you about to make your momma proud?”

“Oh my God,” I moaned.

Reece laughed under his breath as he stepped around me and climbed the steps. Before he could say or do anything, Mom enveloped him in a hug I knew could kind of be painful and dizzying, because when Mom hugged excitedly, it involved a lot of squeezing and swaying side to side.

“Mom,” I said, sighing. “Reece probably can’t breathe.”

“Shush it,” she replied. “It’s not often I get to hug a good-­looking young man that’s not my son.”

“Oh dear God,” I muttered.

Reece’s laughing didn’t help, but when he was finally able to pull away, he glanced over his shoulder at me and winked. I shot him a look as I came up the stairs, but he spoke before I could. “I have a feeling my girl is about to make you proud.”

My mouth dropped open.

“My girl? Oh!” Mom flapped her hands in front of her face as she called for my dad. “Best news I’ve heard all—­”

“Mom.” I was going to hurt them both. “That is not why we came here and—­”

“Don’t ruin this for me.” She turned as I rolled my eyes. Dad was at the front door, brows raised. “Wit, you’re not going to believe this! Reece called our baby girl his girl!”

“Okay,” Dad drew the word out, then nodded at Reece. “It’s about time, son.”

As I passed Reece on the steps, I shoved my elbow into his stomach, nice and hard, too. He grunted, and that gave me a measure of satisfaction.

Mom looked close to tears as she buzzed around the porch, almost knocking off the colorful purple and orange mums. She stopped, spinning toward Reece. “I have to call your mom. We need—­”