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Ready or Not (Ready #4) Page 2
Author: J.L. Berg

The other half she’d left behind eight years earlier when she walked away, broken and ashamed. When she’d found Garrett standing on a street corner in a farmer’s market, it was like the entire world had righted itself that day.

It had taken time and a lot of healing on both sides, but eventually, they’d found a path back to each other.

Then, they’d found Asher, my beautiful little godson.

Due to a miscarriage gone wrong, Mia could never have children of her own. After their first couple of years of marriage, she and Garrett had decided to adopt and make a family of their own. Seeing my two best friends become parents was a joy I couldn’t describe, and it’d made me believe that anything was possible.

Except the possibility of me ever being on time.

I glared at the stoplight that had been stuck in the annoying shade of red for what seemed like an eternity, and I silently willed it to turn green. Someone must have felt pity for me in that moment because the light miraculously turned, and I quickly made it down the last few blocks to the cute little renovated house where Garrett and Mia had been living since she returned to Richmond.

Since Garrett had moved in, the house had undergone several upgrades, and now, it was the showpiece on the block. Its fresh paint and beautiful landscaping made it one of the most sought after pieces of property in the area. But until little Asher needed more room or if they decided to add to the family, I believed the Finnegans were staying put.

I didn’t bother knocking, and instead, I just entered through the front door, yelling, “Hello?”

Mia’s golden retriever, Sam, came barreling down the hallway. Several small children followed behind, chasing his tail.

I gave him and the kids a proper welcome, and then I proceeded into the kitchen where the majority of the adults were crowded around the hors d’oeuvres.

“Hey, everyone. Sorry I’m late.” I set down the veggie and hummus platter on the counter next to a large bowl of fruit.

“No problem.” Mia grinned.

“What?” I asked, noticing the mischief in her eyes.

“Well, we’re kind of used to it by now.”

I chucked a kitchen towel at her head, and she burst out laughing.

“Shut up,” I mumbled. “You have flour in your hair.”

Her eyes widened as her hands flew up to her long brown hair, brushing away the white powder that had settled around her crown.

“I don’t know how you manage to be on time for work every morning, yet you’re late to everything else, Liv.”

I shrugged. “Don’t want to piss off my boss.” I winked, which caused everyone to laugh. “Where’s my—” I began asking just as the baby monitor went nuts.

Red lights started flashing as high-pitched wailing filled the room.

“Oh, there he is,” I said with a grin.

“He took an extra-long nap,” Garrett explained.

Mia motioned toward the stairs.

“Let me,” I said. “I want to snuggle him.”

My flowing teal skirt swished and floated behind me as I left the party and jogged up the stairs. I passed the master bedroom and walked down the hall until I reached Asher’s nursery. Pushing open the door to the dimly lit room, I walked inside.

The soft light in the room washed out most of the bright colors, leaving only muted, somber tones. The yellow on the walls was barely recognizable with the black shade pulled taut, but I could almost make out the tiny star shapes I’d painted on the walls months before he was brought home.

My little peanut was standing in his crib as little tears trickled down his chubby cheeks. As soon as he saw me enter, his little hands flew up, making little pinchers, as he lost the last bit of patience he had.

“Okay, okay.” I laughed. “I’ll spring you free,” I cooed, lifting him from the crib and nestling him in my arms.

He smelled like baby shampoo, so clean and fresh. Whoever had invented that particular scent was a genius. I had no plans of making a baby anytime soon, but just a whiff of that stuff even made my chained-up ovaries constrict just the slightest bit.

After a quick diaper change, I brought Asher downstairs to the rest of the family. His grumpy attitude was completely forgotten as he set his sights on his birthday cake. Blue with brown and white polka dots, it had a giant number one–shaped candle on top. After setting his wiggly body in his highchair, we all sang as Mia carried in the cake. As she placed it down in front of him, his eyes widened in delight as Mia tried in vain to keep his little pincher fingers from diving into the frosting. She and Garrett helped blow out the candle, and then they cut a small piece for the birthday boy. Everyone watched in delight and horror as Asher demolished the cake, coating his face and high chair in frosting and chocolate cake.

“He made a big mess!” Lily said to her mother, Leah.

A quick snort followed, and Leah answered, “Baby, you did the same thing. I was cleaning chocolate out of your nose for days.”

Leah gave me a quick grin, and I laughed. I loved Leah. We’d grown really close over the years, and I considered her one of my closest friends. She was the best friend of Garrett’s sister, Clare Matthews.

Somehow, I’d been pulled into this crazy family, making me one of them.

The Finnegans didn’t define family as a last name or bloodline. Family was being with loved ones, and everyone in this room—whether the last name was Finnegan, James, Matthews, or even Prescott, like me—was considered family.

It was the only kind of family I’d had in years.

~Jackson~

“Good God, I forgot about the wallpaper,” I muttered as I passed by the hallway bathroom. I dropped another box into the room that Noah had declared as his during our first walk-through.

“I’m kind of digging the toilet wallpaper, Dad,” he said.

His young laughter filled the hallway as I found him leaning against the doorway, which led into the horrible bathroom.

“It’s awful. Who does that?” My eyes roamed the floor-to-ceiling wallpaper that predated even me. It had probably once been a brilliant white, but it had faded into a dingy cream. The old antique toilets ranged from dusty blue to wrought iron and covered the entirety of the bathroom.

“Great Grandma,” Noah answered. “Obviously.”

“Yeah. She must have thought it was a good idea…in 1955.”

He laughed again as I messed up his hair. Darting out of my way as he rolled his eyes, he did what I could only describe as a Justin Bieber hair flip to move his sandy blond locks neatly back in place.

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J.L. Berg's Novels
» Ready or Not (Ready #4)
» Ready for You (Ready #3)
» Never Been Ready (Ready #2)
» Ready to Wed (Ready #1.5)
» When You're Ready (Ready #1)