Chloe, snagging them both cups of cider. Axl had already worked his way through one, judging from the sticky ring around his mouth.
“Sure. It’s been a terrific day. Gram mentioned doing a hayride after dark. I guess they do one on weekend nights in October at a nearby farm with Jason and Freddy and a lot of those gory dudes.” Chloe shuddered. “The September hayride is much tamer. Just a couple glowing pumpkins and scarecrows under spotlights. Kid-friendly, I already checked.”
“Sure, that sounds fun. Want to go upstairs and take a nap first?” Michael glanced at Axl, who’d moved on to stick his head in the hole with a cow body on the other side. He’d definitely have to get some shots of that.
Chloe stepped forward and laced her fingers with his. “Depends. Are you coming up to nap with me?” She waggled her eyebrows and he had to laugh.
“I’d love to, but Ax-Man isn’t quite able to watch himself yet.”
“No, but your grandparents would love to. As a matter of fact…” Chloe waved to Michael’s Gram and she hurried over, her arms full of decorations. “Mrs. Ronson, would you mind watching Axl for a little—”
“Oh dear, yes. Please. Can I? I want to just eat him right up. Take as long as you like.” Gram pinched Michael’s cheek as she passed, then moved on to Axl. He clapped his hands at the sight of the goodies she carried, and they wandered off to explore whatever treasures she’d unearthed.
“So as you were saying about that nap,” Michael began, sliding his arms around Chloe’s waist. “I’m suddenly so sleepy.”
“I just bet.” She poked him in the chest. “Let’s go. We don’t have long.”
“I’m a magician with small windows of time.”
“Sure you are.” She shot him a smile over her shoulder and led him through the pocket doors that led into the front of the winery.
They meandered back over to the main house and through the general store, then up the stairs to the second level where family and close friends stayed when in town. They also had a lodge on the property with spacious rooms for those who wanted to stay overnight, but of course Michael and Chloe had been given red carpet treatment. The rest of the band was at the lodge, which wasn’t exactly a hardship. That place was huge and gorgeous and rustic in a way the cabins in California wished they could replicate.
Not that he loved the orchard or anything. Nope.
“Did you know we were given the babymaking room?” Chloe asked nonchalantly as they entered their suite.
He shut the door. “The what?”
“The babymaking room. Apparently, there’s like a whole legend that goes with it. Everyone who stays in this room ends up pregnant shortly afterward.”
If that was the case—and not saying that he believed in any such nonsense—guess they’d be shelving the whole “putting the baby on hold” plan.
He probably shouldn’t be excited. Wasn’t he supposed to be nervous about impending fatherhood? Well, double fatherhood, since he already was one. But he’d never been around for the whole cycle before. The conception part they had down pat. The rest would be all new for him, and he couldn’t wait.
Except he’d just told himself they should. So, right, waiting. Waiting was good.
“Hmm. Even the guys get knocked up in here?” he teased. “If so, that’s some special room.”
Chloe sat on the bed and kicked out at him as he approached. “Wiseass.”
He grabbed her feet and pried off her shoes. “Do you believe in crazy shit like that?”
She leaned back on her elbows and shrugged. “I don’t believe but I don’t not believe. Lila found out she was pregnant when she was staying here.”
“How do you know that?”
“She told me after she found out we were visiting the orchard. We’ve kind of talking now. A little. We’re not besties or anything, but things are better. Lord, what are you doing to me?”
“Right this second? Taking off your jeans.”
“No, I mean a minute ago when you were massaging my calves. Do that again.”
“The plan was to massage all of you.”
“God, I love you.”
He glanced up at the words, his heart kicking as it always did. They were still so rare and precious, although she said them fairly often. He’d never get tired of hearing them. “Because I give a killer massage?”
“That doesn’t hurt.” She grinned. “Neither does the gorgeous blue eyes or the gorgeous body or the wicked skills on the guitar. But no, that’s not why I love you.