Macie snorts and rolls her eyes. “Don’t let him fool you, honey. Those boys were stealin’ our whiskey at your age.”

“Ma!” Zach complains.

“What? It’s true. You boys thought you were so smart. Little did you know your daddy would water that down. We had the moonshine hidin’ in my closet.”

“All right. Can we not give the already trouble causin’ teenagers anymore hints?” Presley asks.

“We wouldn’t want their uncle to have to arrest them for underage drinkin’.” Trent gives them each a pointed look.

“Yeah, because it’s not like he’d hang out and drink with them.” Wyatt is laughing as he says it but shrugs when Trent glares.

Unreal. They’re all the same as they were twenty years ago. It’s like time froze in their little man brains and kept them as immature teenagers. And then we all married them. I’m starting to wonder who the dumb ones are in this situation.

“All right. Go!” Cooper calls out.

We make it through the first round with me doing shots of apple juice. Wyatt doesn’t seem too fazed, and I’m grateful for so many reasons that it’s juice in my bottle.

On round number three Wyatt starts to show signs of being drunk. Thank God because I’m not faking it that great. By now, I should be on the floor and halfway dead. Nine shots would put me on my ass for a month.

But here I am, being slow, and wobbly off juice.

The air horn blows, and I wait for him to go. I need to appear as if I’m too drunk to get up.

This is so dumb.

Wyatt gets to the table on the other side and grabs his cup. “Come on, Grace! You gonna let a little whiskey slow you down?”

I give it a believable push when I stumble standing and then misstep as I pass him. I hear Wyatt chuckle, and then, thinking he’s won, he throws his drink in the air and screams. The ball flies out, which means he’s lost. All I need to do is bring my cup back.

“You idiot!” Angie slaps him. “If we lose because of this, you’re still getting up with Felicity!”

Wyatt gives her a salute, and I focus on looking drunk. This is a lot harder than I thought. I don’t usually pay attention to what I would do if I was drunk, but from the look on Trent’s face, I need to be more believable.

I get back to the table with my cup and yell. “Ha! I win!” I dance around a little and point at Wyatt. His head is dropped on the picnic table.

Trent’s arms are around me a few seconds later, and he hoists me in the air. “That’s my girl!”

“We beat you!” I point to my family as we celebrate.

“That’s right, suckers!” Trent follows in the taunting.

“Wait a minute,” Angie says as she comes around the table. “I’ve been drunk around you many times. I’ve seen you wasted so badly off five glasses of wine that you couldn’t walk. I’ve seen you after three shots, forgetting how to dance and function. There’s no way.” She swipes the bottle off the table before I can lunge for it. “I knew it!”

“I won!”

“You drank apple juice!”

Presley gasps and covers her mouth. “Grace, I’m shocked.” See, now that’s good acting. I know she’s not actually upset, she’s trying to keep her composure.

“Who swapped the bottles?” Trent asks. When no one pipes up he shrugs and throws his arm in the air. “Well, too bad, we won.”

Mrs. Hennington comes over and slaps Trent’s chest. “Don’t make me put you over my knee. Grace, honey,” her kind eyes hold mine, “why ever would you cheat?”

I can’t lie to her, but this wasn’t how I planned to tell Trent.

“Well,” I say slowly, making it a point to look at everyone. “You all know I can’t drink much and I wanted to win for Trent . . .”

Mama’s eyes narrow. “I don’t believe that.”

“Give me one minute,” I say and rush to the car. I was in charge of getting the cake from Angie. I told her to leave the top blank and I’d fill it in at home. So I did. I figured I would tell Trent first, but it seems it’s not going to work that way.

I grab the cake and pregnancy stick wrapped in a box. I walk over, and place it on the table. Everyone looks at me like I’m a little insane, and I want to strangle my husband for making me cheat.

“So,” I let out a shaky breath. “Today didn’t quite go as I planned, but that’s kind of par for the course with being married to you.”

“You love it.”

“I do,” I agree.

“So, you thought we should have cake?” Trent asks.

“Cake is always a good idea.”

“Well, at least it’s not your nasty black licorice,” Angie says, exaggerating a shudder.

“Why don’t you read the inscription,” I suggest to my husband.

Trent gives me an odd look and then lifts the box and reads it aloud. “Another Hennington is in the oven.”

Everyone goes quiet, and I turn to see Trent’s face. His eyes are soft as he steps closer. I don’t know if he comprehended what it means, because he’s still not speaking. “You’re pregnant?” he asks.

“Yes.”

“You’re pregnant?” Presley yells.

“I’m pregnant.”

Trent’s arms circle around me, and he pulls me close. “We’re havin’ a baby.”

I tangle my hands in the hair on the back of his neck and grin. “We sure are.”

His lips touch mine, and I fight back tears.

Before I can get too lost in the moment, everyone crowds around us, squeezing us tight.

“We’re havin’ a baby!” Macie yells, and we all hug again.

Trent smiles at me and then kisses my forehead. “Yeah, I’m definitely the winner here today.”

Epilogue

Trent

~Eight years later~

“D on’t tell your mama about this.” I point at Hannah as I try to clean up the candy wrappers all over the table.

Hannah has me wrapped around that tiny little finger of hers. My sweet daughter with the blue eyes and blonde ringlets—she’s the Devil. At seven, she’s able to get me to do just about anything.