Laughing, Owen dragged her up and tossed an arm around her. “Yes, you will. You can’t resist me.”

Because she couldn’t exactly deny that, she elbowed his ribs. “Watch me.” A new thought made her nauseated again. “Oh my God, what’ll I tell my dad?”

“Tell him he’s going to be a grandpa again, just a little sooner than we’d planned.”

“Since this is all your fault, why don’t you tell him?”

He made a distressed face that made her laugh. “Do I hafta?”

“I’d say that’s the least you can do after you knocked me up so thoroughly.”

Puffing out his chest, he said, “I did do a pretty good job, didn’t I?”

Even though she was amused by his pleasure in the earth-shattering news, she couldn’t let him see that, so she scowled at him. After this extremely unexpected development, she figured she had the right to be a bit grouchy until she wrapped her head around it.

At the car, he turned her to face him and eased her back against the sun-warmed metal. “I’ll be glad to tell your dad this awesome news,” he said, nuzzling her neck, “and I’ll make sure to tell him again how very much I love his beautiful daughter who has made me so happy. So damned happy.”

“Keep talking,” she said, bending her neck to give him better access. “Maybe I’ll forgive you before the wedding.”

Chuckling, he held the passenger door for her. “Let’s go tell our little boy that he’s going to be a big brother.”

Laura was glad—and relieved—that Owen was so excited about the new babies. But all she could think about was nine months of nausea, three babies in one year and a hotel to run. It might take her a while to match his excitement, but she’d get there. Eventually. Or at least she hoped so.

Abby showered, blow-dried her hair and treated the site of the tattoo with antibiotic ointment. She bent and twisted to get a look at it in the mirror, frustrated all over again with herself for taking the safe route with a small tattoo on her back that no one would see unless she wanted them to.

“You’re doing a heck of a job shaking things up, girlfriend,” she whispered to her reflection. “You’re doing a hell of a job, I should say.” She shook her head in disgust. “You’re such a bad ass. Unable to hold your liquor, unable to swear respectably, unable to get a tattoo that people will actually see, unable to get off during sex. No wonder things didn’t work out with Grant or Cal. I bore myself. Why wouldn’t they be bored, too?”