Finding Perfect (Fool's Gold #3)(70)

Hawk raised his eyebrows. “You okay with that?”

“Yeah. I’m happy.” He hesitated. “The babies aren’t mine.”

Hawk picked up his beer bottle but didn’t drink. “Okay,” he said slowly. “Tell me about it.”

Raoul explained about Crystal and the embryos.

“That’s a lot to take on,” Hawk said when he’d finished. “Responsibility, time, money. They’re not going to be yours.”

Raoul didn’t fall for it. “They’ll be mine. I’ll be there when they’re born and see them through their whole lives. How could they not be mine?”

Hawk didn’t look convinced. “You doing this because of Caro? Are you secretly figuring it won’t be as big a problem because they’re not your biological children? You’re wrong—they’ll be yours in every sense of the word. You won’t be able to hold back with them.”

“I don’t want to hold back.”

“You sure about that?”

It was a question Raoul had wrestled with since finding out about Pia’s plans for the embryos. He’d meant it when he’d promised to be there for her, to be a real father to those children.

“I want to be their father. I want to be involved with them, the way you were there for me. You might have come into my life when I was in high school, but that doesn’t mean you didn’t shape everything about me. I can do this. I want to do this.”

Hawk took a long drink of his beer. “Kids aren’t easy under the best of circumstances. Triplets. That’s a load and a half.”

Raoul grinned. “It’s probably three loads.”

“Smart-ass.” Hawk shook his head. “You sure about this? Once you commit, there’s no turning back.”

“I’m sure.” It was what he wanted.

“Make sure you get married for the right reasons.”

Raoul could do the translation. Hawk wanted him to be sure he was marrying Pia because he loved her and couldn’t live without her. Not because it was the right thing to do.

It was the only secret he would keep from his friend. The truth was, not loving Pia was part of the appeal. He’d been in love once, had married Caro and had paid the price. Never again, he’d promised himself, and he meant it.

“Pia’s the one,” he said, sidestepping the issue.

“Then I’m happy for you.”

Raoul couldn’t tell if Hawk believed him or was simply going along with things. In the end, he supposed it didn’t matter. Whatever the outcome, Hawk would be there for him, just like he would be there for the babies Pia carried.

PIA LOOKED UP FROM HER desk to find Charity Jones-Golden standing in the doorway.

“You’re busy,” her friend said.

“I have the auction tonight, followed by the dinner-dance in a week. Busy doesn’t cover it. Hysterical is closer. In fact, I think hysterical is pretty accurate.”

“So you probably don’t have time to go shopping.”

Pia perked up. “I certainly do. In fact a little retail therapy is exactly what I need. On the way back, I’ll grab a sandwich to eat at my desk and call it lunch.”

Charity smiled. “Really? You’d do that for me?”

“Mostly I’m doing it for myself, but you can pretend it’s about you if it makes you feel better.” Pia saved her computer program, then closed it, grabbed her purse and stood. “What are we shopping for? Jewelry? Furniture? A vacation in the south of France?”

“Maternity clothes.”

Pia plopped down on her seat, her gaze settling on her friend’s growing tummy. “Tell me you’re kidding.”

“I need to buy some things, and you’re way better at the stylish thing than I am. I want to look good as I approach my whale days. Or as good as I can. ‘Help me, Obi Wan. You’re my only hope.’”

“Oh, please. Don’t try Star Wars on me. I’m too young to remember anything but the remastered versions, and so are you.”

Charity continued to stare at her, all wide-eyed and pleading.

“Fine,” Pia grumbled, standing again. “I’ll help you buy your stupid maternity clothes.”

“The point of bringing you along is so they’re not stupid. Besides, you might want to get a few things for yourself. It took me a while to pop out of my regular clothes, but I’m not carrying triplets.”

“Thanks for mentioning that.”

“Anytime.”

Pia followed her into the hallway, then locked the door. As they made their way down the stairs, she had to admit that Charity was right…sort of. Lately it had seemed her pants were getting snug, and she would swear her br**sts had gone up a full cup size. She was starting to spill out of her bras. In the few weeks between now and looking like a woman who had swallowed a beach ball, she could probably make some great money posing for breast-enhancement ads.

“How are you feeling?” Charity asked. “Any morning sickness?”

“I’m fine as long as I stick to crackers for the first hour. Then I can pretty much eat what I want. Of course, based on the list of things I should be eating, all those fruits and vegetables, the protein and dairy, there’s not much room left for empty calories.” She sighed. “I miss empty calories.”