Griffin made an obscene gesture then headed back to the machine to change the song selection. Behind his back, Kellan started cracking up. When Kellan held the microphone back up, a tiny hand reached out to grab the cord. I smiled at our son, Ryder. Kellan had named him. He loved that the name was similar to his half brother’s. I loved that it sounded a bit rock ’n’ roll. The son of the lead singer of one of the hottest bands on earth should have an interesting name.
Ryder’s face was just at the edge of the carrier; he was chewing on the end of it like a dog gnawing on his toy. His little fist curled around the microphone cord in triumph and he gave it a tug or two. Kellan smiled down at him and bounced a little on his feet. Those two were peas in a pod already. Ryder loved me without a doubt, but he was daddy’s boy through and through. And he looked just like Kellan—thick light brown hair that stuck up no matter how hard I tried to keep it down, and deep, dark blue eyes that looked like the evening sky. Maybe I was a bit biased, but everything about him was perfect—his cheeks, his nose, his toothless smile, the cute little freckle on the back of his neck. Everything.
The boys had a tour starting for their successful sophomore album this summer. Ryder and I were going to go with the boys, just to see how it went. If it was too hard touring with him, then we would go home and work out something else out for future tours. Short visits, maybe. But Kellan and I were pretty easygoing, and Ryder was a dream baby, so I was expecting this tour to be just fine. Keeping Ryder away from the public was my biggest concern. Kellan’s too. That’s why we had a team joining us—we’d bumped our bodyguards up to two, and we’d hired a nanny. I didn’t really think we’d need the nanny, I was pretty on top of things, but Kellan thought the extra help would be worth it. “And besides,” he’d told me, “with a nanny, we could have a night or two alone for . . . dates.” I was sold after that.
As “Electric Youth” started playing through the speakers, Jenny wrapped her arms around me. She had an engagement ring on her finger that twinkled in the living room lights. She and Evan hadn’t been in any great hurry to move their relationship along, but he’d finally proposed to her last week. That left Matt and Rachel. Rumor was, Matt was going to propose to her on the day the boys left for their next tour. Rumor also had it that Matt was sweating bullets about it. I was positive he had nothing to worry about; Rachel was going to say yes.
“Hey, Kiera. Great party.”
Leaning in to her, I laughed. “Thanks. Abby did most of it, though.” Sighing, I looked back at Kellan. He’d started singing along with Griffin, but he was laughing so hard he didn’t sound very good. He looked good, though.
Jenny snorted. “Is this because Kellan lost that bet?”
Looking over at her, I frowned. “What bet?”
She grinned and pulled her long locks away from her shoulder. “You know, Griffin bet him that he could knock Anna up again before Kellan knocked you up again.” Jenny rolled her eyes. “I don’t think Kellan actually accepted the bet, but still, you know how Griffin loves to win . . . anything.”
My eyes widened as far as they could go. Anna was pregnant again? Sitting herself up, Anna happened to glance my way. When she saw my face, then saw Jenny beside me, she instantly knew that I knew. Her lips curled into a smirk, and she merely shrugged at me. I was so floored, I could barely come up with words. When I did, they were laced with disbelief. “Those two are going to overpopulate the earth, aren’t they?”
Jenny pursed her lips. “Yep. Probably.”
Kellan had control over his chuckles by the second verse. Then he started getting into it. Always the performer, he gave the cheesy eighties teeny-bopper anthem his best. No one in the room had dry eyes. Not Cheyenne, Meadow, or the rest of Poetic Bliss. Not Justin or Kate, cuddling on the love seat. Not Troy, Rita, or Sam.
When Kellan and Griffin’s song was over, Kellan and Ryder took a small bow. Then Kellan handed the microphone out to Rain. Just as eager to perform as Griffin, Rain jumped off the couch and ran up to the “stage.” They had to pry the microphone cord away from Ryder, which made him start to cry. Bouncing him as he walked, Kellan reached into his back pocket and handed him a rattle in the shape of a guitar. He instantly started shaking it, a smile on his tiny lips.