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I was expecting Wyatt to propose, so I was all smiles as I sidled up to him outside in the gardens the restaurant had when the waiter asked if we’d like him to take a picture of us after we finished our meal. Although I’m still waiting on him to ask since he promised to “marry my crazy little ass” if I got pregnant, this is the happiest I have ever been, and it’s all thanks to Wyatt.
I love him more than I ever thought possible and the beautiful new life we’ve created together.
Wyatt
I’m awoken from a dead sleep when Dolly, now at the tail end of her second trimester, flips the bedroom light on and yells, “How could you do this to me?” She’s in tears, hovering by my side of the bed as rage and grief twist her features.
I sit up and rub the sleep from my eyes, then try to pull her onto my lap, but she spins away out of reach, causing a rock to sink deep in my gut.
“What did I do, babygirl?”
She shakes her finger at me, then jabs me in the chest. “You threw away my ice cream! I was saving it for a snack, and now it’s gone! Why would you do that to me?”
Just like that, the sinking feeling dissipates, quickly replaced by relief, and I chuckle. “You left the ice cream out on the counter, and it melted all over the place.”
“Oh.” She doesn’t fight me as I pull her sideways onto my lap, but then she breaks out in a fresh round of tears. “I really, really, really wanted ice cream.”
“I know. I’m sorry.” I rock her back and forth with one arm around her back and use the other to hike up the flannel she’s wearing so I can palm her belly with nothing between us. “I’ll take you to get some ice cream tomorrow. Scout’s honor.”
She runs her fingers through my chest hair, and the feel of her nails softly scraping across my nipple, coupled with her ass wiggling on my lap, has my cock thickening and rock-hard in seconds. I’m a breath away from turning her to straddle my hips, ripping her panties off, and thrusting my dick in her when she pouts and gives me her puppy-dog eyes.
With the sweetest voice she can muster, she says, “But I want it now, Daddy.”
“Ah shit, babygirl. It’s two in the morning,” I say, glancing at the clock on the nightstand. Her bottom lip juts out, and she knows she’s got me when I sigh and move her to sit beside me on the bed. “Alright, alright. The gas station up the road is open 24/7, so I’ll run up there and get you some. You want chocolate?”
Any reluctance I might have had to leave our warm bed instantly washes away when she smiles and claps her hands excitedly. I love putting that smile on her face.
“Mmhmm. Oh, and strawberry…and cookie dough…and maybe some mint chocolate chip, and—”
“How about I just get you one of every flavor?”
“Yes, yes, yes! Thank you, Daddy!” She pops up off the bed and throws her arms around me after I pull on a shirt and pajama pants, then stuff my feet in the slippers Dolly gifted me that I keep by the bed. No sense in getting dressed up when I’m just running to the corner store at stupid o’clock in the morning.
“I’ll be back in a few minutes, and you better be waiting for me in bed naked for the thank you you’ll owe me after this.”
She knows I’m just joking and that I don’t think she actually owes me anything for doing nice things for her, but she winks and lays back in the middle of the bed, then spreads her legs, giving me the perfect view of her pale pink panties beneath her rounded belly.
“I’ll be waiting for you, Daddy.”
Fuck me, I can’t get enough of my woman.
I lock the front door behind me and make sure the alarm is set before I hop in the truck and turn down the gravel drive, heading for the gas station. True to my word, I pick out one of each flavor and drop eleven pints of ice cream on the counter.
The older cashier smirks at me. “Let me guess. The missus got pregnancy cravings, which is why you’re out running around town to get ice cream in the middle of the night?”
“Shit, yeah. How’d you know?”
“Mine made me do the same, ‘cept it was ice cream with crushed potato chips. She was worse with the second baby. Wanted ice cream with scrambled eggs and barbeque sauce. Truly, the nastiest combination.” We both chuckle as he pretends to shudder, and I tip my imaginary hat at him as I put my wallet away and gather the bags of ice cream.
Just as I’m backing my pickup out of the parking lot to head home, a notification on my phone dings, the specific sound sending chills down my spine. My heart hammers, threatening to explode out of my chest. I don’t even have to check it to know it’s the triggered house alarm notification.
I nearly lose control of my truck as I spin out, tires squealing as they try to gain traction, then haul ass down the road. I spare a fraction of a second once I’m on a straight stretch of the road to pull my phone out and glance at it, which includes a snapshot of a man with his boot raised against the back door. One of my worst fears—Dolly’s safety being threatened—is unfolding in real time.
I double-tap the side of my phone to call 911 and yell into it as I blow through every red flashing signal on the way home. Fear swallows me whole when I spot a darkened, out-of-state police cruiser pulled over on the grassy shoulder twenty feet from our driveway. The driver must have pulled in right after I left, or else I would have seen it on my way to the gas station. I never would have left Dolly if I had, and I curse myself now for leaving her in the middle of the night, no matter how upset she was about the melted ice cream.
The back end of my truck swings dangerously to the side as I pass the cruiser and make the turn onto our gravel drive too fast. My blood turns to ice when Dolly comes tearing out the front door, barefoot and hair tangled, horror written all over her face as a man chases her from behind.
Adrenaline-fueled rage that someone is trying to hurt my babygirl spurs me into action without conscious thought as to what I’m doing. I slam on the brakes and barely manage to throw the gear in park before shoving my door open. I’m out and running to tackle the motherfucker coming after my woman in the blink of an eye.
