My Dad's Bestfriend (Evelyn and Jacob) novel Chapter 221

Evelyn

I hadn’t told Jacob about the incident at the mall. As days turned into weeks, I started convincing myself it had been a hallucination—just my paranoia playing tricks on me. I’d been on edge ever since Tyler's release, after all. Maybe it was just fear messing with my head.

Days blurred into months. Three, to be exact. And now, my baby bump was unmistakable. My body had softened, my feet were slightly swollen, and I'd gained the kind of weight that made me look exactly like a pregnant woman should. Loose, comfy clothes became my everyday style, but I didn’t mind the changes.

In fact, I loved them.

I found myself smiling in the mirror, running my hands over the curve of my belly, fascinated that I was growing a little life inside me. Jacob loved it even more. He couldn't stop staring at me—his eyes filled with awe and something deeper every time he saw my bump. He massaged my feet when they ached, tied my hair when I was too tired, and kissed me like I was the most precious thing in his world.

We'd been happy before. Blissfully so. But now? Now, we were living in a version of heaven I never thought possible. Everything felt perfect—too perfect—but it was real.

"Still no name, Evelyn," Jacob whined as he lifted me onto the kitchen countertop, pressing his ear to my belly like he expected the baby to whisper secrets. Lately, he'd been obsessed with feeling the kicks, and every time she moved, his face lit up like it was the first time. I could watch that reaction forever.

"We can decide later, silly," I said, ruffling his hair.

The kitchen door creaked open.

"Would you stop fucking hovering over my daughter for five seconds?" Dad groaned, walking past us to grab a glass from the shelf. He'd been staying with us for a couple of weeks with Clara, and today was their last day before their evening flight.

Jacob straightened, his lips twitching with amusement. "I can hover all I want. She's my wife."

"Not yet," Dad snapped, filling his glass with water and shooting Jacob a glare sharp enough to cut through steel. "And if I wanted to, I could blackmail her into leaving your sorry ass."

Jacob threw his head back and laughed. "Too late, Samuel." He planted his hands on the counter on either side of me and leaned in. His voice dropped to a smug whisper. "I've already charmed her. She’s never leaving me."

He sealed his words with a flurry of kisses all over my face.

I giggled, trying to push him away but failing miserably. "Jacob, stop!"

"Never," he said, pressing one last kiss to my lips.

Dad groaned again from across the room. "God help me."

But I was too busy smiling to care.

Clara walked into the kitchen just as Jacob smothered me with kisses. She stopped, hands on her hips, and chuckled. "You two never get bored of each other, do you?"

"Not even a little," Jacob said, brushing his nose against my cheek. "I don’t know about your daughter, Clara, but me? Hell, she could be sixty, wrinkled, and yelling at me to take my meds—and I’d still be obsessed with her."

Clara laughed as she grabbed the fruit basket and started slicing apples. Of course, for me. The designated pregnant queen of the house.

"Yeah, sure," Dad snorted, lounging against the counter with a bag of chips in hand. "When she’s sixty, you’ll be...what? Ninety?" He popped a chip into his mouth, eyes twinkling with mischief. "The average Italian lives to be, what, eighty-two? So yeah, you’ll be long gone before my daughter hits her golden years."

"Dad!" I scowled, my jaw dropping. "That's morbid!"

Jacob only chuckled, shaking his head. "And guess what, Samuel? The average American lives to be seventy-eight." He shot Dad a wicked grin. "So statistically speaking, you’ll be rotting away long before me. Plus, with your sins? You’re headed straight for hell, buddy."

Dad’s smirk disappeared. "You piece of—"

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