Just stared. I dropped the diaper bag with a soft thud, grabbed the extra chair with one foot, and settled into the seat like a woman with nothing to prove and everything to hide.
“You look like hell,” Alec said finally, lips curled in something that almost passed for amusement.
“Thanks. It’s my new scent—Eau de Breast Milk and Cookie Crumbs.”
One of the toddlers squealed in the background. Something broke—probably a ceramic plate. The barista gasped. I didn’t even flinch.
He stared at the children. “They’re yours.”
“Congratulations, you can count.”
“And Ray’s.”
I let my eyes roll lazily toward him. “You bring him up like he matters.”
Alec tilted his head. I could see him trying to read me, dig through the layers—peel back. But I was better. Always had been.
“Ray, your husband. He
