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“Herbert Martin.” My name was being called from the side door. It was my turn, and seeing my baby was the only thing that had the ability to pull me from his arms.
“That’s me. I need to go. Please come with me.” I still hadn’t let him go, waiting for his answer as if it were my next breath.
“You’re never getting rid of me again,” he vowed in my ear before turning me in the direction of the voice, grabbing my hand as I made my way there.
The ultrasound was not at all like they had in the movies. I saw nothing of what the tech said, though she said we lucked out, and the babe was positioned just right so there was no question about her gender. My little peanut was basically a blob from what I could see. That didn’t make it any less magical. She was healthy. I was going to have a girl, and everything looked perfect so far. They still wanted me in for the twenty-week measurement scan, but I knew that before I even walked in. Porter needed a bit more reassurance. The smile he wore from the moment the tech said “girl” never vanished, even as we made our way out of the office.
Porter drove us home, insisting I shouldn’t be taking a bus in my condition. Not that I argued. I wanted to be with him. The weekend apart was torture. Sheer fucking torture.
“How did you know?” I asked as we rode the elevator up to his place.
“Your invite was under my desk.” Of course it was.
“It was corny, wasn’t it?” It had a baby on it, one holding a congratulations sign and where it said shower, I added, “with me after our baby’s first ultrasound.” At the time, I didn’t know the goop they used meant the shower was a necessity and not a sexy detour.
“It was perfect.” He leaned in, kissing me chastely. Both of us knew if we allowed it to be more, the conversation we needed to have would be brushed aside for a more carnal discussion. “I tried to call you.”
“My phone broke. I kind of threw it against a wall. I was a little upset.” If I’d known he would call, that bad boy would’ve been replaced already. “I need to get a new one.”
“So you weren’t ignoring me.”
I slid my arms around his waist, settling my head on his shoulder. “How can you ask a man if he was ignoring the alpha he loves? That’s not even possible, is it?” I’d never said those words to a man before, and I had planned to hold them in until the timing was better, but they bubbled up and poured out. No more secrets, not even the good kind.
“You love me, omega mine?” His singsong parroting of my words had my heart overflowing. This was the Porter I knew and loved. I hadn’t broken that by my foolishness.
“Of course I do.” I pulled back, grasping his face with my hand and looking him in the eye. I wanted there to be no misunderstanding. “That was why I was such an ass. I loved you so much that the fear of losing you paralyzed me. But never again. No more secrets. No more lies.”
His lips collided with mine. I was home. We kissed deeply and passionately until we both needed to catch our breath.
“While we are confessing, I noticed you growing.”
“You thought I was just getting fat?” I raised an eyebrow. Playful Porter was my favorite. Or was it sexy, bossy, naked Porter? It was a tie.
“Not fat, gaining some much-needed weight and sexy, but that wasn’t even what I was talking about.” And then he pulled the ultimate Porter move—he pinched my nipple.
“Ohhh.” I bit my lip to hold in a moan then grabbed his hand, leading him to his bedroom. I needed to feel his weight on me, his cock in me, and his lips worshipping me. I needed him to feel my love for him through my actions, because recently those actions had been crap. This, this I could give him. There was no lying when our bodies became one.
“Michael?”
“Yes.” We stopped at the door. Once we entered, the conversation would no longer be with words, and this felt big. Important.
“I love you. I love Betsy. I want us to be a family in all ways.”
He wanted everything. I didn’t lose him. This was so not the life I had mapped out for myself. This was a detour, to be sure. A detour of the very best kind. One that led to love and family.
“Betsy. Of course that’s her name.” I knew it the second the name escaped his lips. Our baby girl was Betsy.
And as his lips met mine, I knew that everything was going to be okay. No, better than okay. Because nothing out there was better than love, and I had it abundantly.
Epilogue
Michael
Today was the day. I was getting married. When the gossip columns found out the most eligible CEO and billionaire had found his true love and was getting married, they began to hound us for details. They were expecting a fairy-tale wedding, complete with a two-bazillion-dollar reception and cake the height of most homes. Little did they know, that was so not us. We were about the marriage, not the wedding. I never did want anything showy.
“Ready, love?” he asked as we reached the window. I was so ready.
“Absolutely.” I leaned over the console as he rolled down the car window and passed the paper to Elvis. I couldn’t wait to tell our grandchildren that we got married in a drive-thru service at three in the morning.
