“Wow. You really think the president is involved?”

“I have no way to know that for certain, but I’d be surprised if he wasn’t. Having his vice president’s wife charged with felony assault isn’t going to look good for any of them. If Nelson can keep it from happening, I’m sure he will, especially since Forrester is a Nelson appointee.”

“People would go crazy if she gets charged. She’s so popular—not just here anymore but everywhere after what she did during the inauguration.”

“There’s a lot to consider beyond whether she hit Ramsey or whether he deserved it. I don’t envy Forrester this situation.”

He parked at the curb outside their townhouse and cut the engine. “Wait for me to come around,” he said as he got out of the car. Ever since she’d fallen a couple of months ago, he treated her as if she were made of spun glass, or at least that’s what she said. But with the sidewalk coated in a thin layer of ice, he wasn’t taking any chances. He opened the passenger door and held out a hand to help her up and out of the car.

“Thank you.” She curled her hand into the crook of his elbow to climb the stairs he’d salted earlier in the day. “Spring can show up anytime now.”

“Going to be a few more weeks, I’m afraid.”

“Ugh, enough already with this cold weather.”

“I’ll remind you of that when you’re sweltering through the last weeks of pregnancy in the dog days of summer.” Inside, he unwound her puffy pink scarf and used the two ends to draw her closer to him.

She looked up at him expectantly.

Sometimes he still had to marvel at the series of events that had led to where they were now—engaged, living together and expecting a child. Whether or not that child was biologically his was of no consequence to him, and that thought led Avery right back to Troy Hamilton and the baffling situation with his son.

“What?” Shelby asked, reminding him that he’d been about to kiss her.

“Nothing.” He shook off his worries about Hamilton to focus on her, leaning in to kiss her. “You mentioned a nap?”

A smile lit up her adorable face. “I did.” She took him by the hand to lead him upstairs to the room they now shared.

He put up with pink throw pillows on his bed because he loved having her in it, but he’d drawn the line at allowing any other pink in his bedroom. Whenever she teased him about his willingness—or lack thereof—to compromise, he referred to the pink pillows on his bed that were now flying through the air as Shelby prepared for their nap.