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“Congratulations, Daddy,” I murmur, positively beaming now.

Jasper lets out a shout of joy, then grabs me and pulls me down into a hard kiss. When we break apart again, happiness shines from his eyes. “Dee, oh my God. We’re going to have a baby.”

“We’re going to have a baby,” I agree, and kiss him again, and again. I lose track of myself in his mouth, his lips, his tongue tracing the edges of mine, familiar and invigorating all at once.

This time, when he pulls me back across his hips, he doesn’t tease me. He glides right into me, his cock stretching and filling my pussy, making me gasp aloud at the sensation of feeling whole. A feeling I get whenever I’m with him, and especially when he’s inside me, completing me like this. I wrap my arms around his shoulders and rock against him, savoring the thickness and length of him, the heat of his mouth where he kisses my neck, my jawline, my collarbone. His tongue flicks across my clavicle, traces the edges of my neck, and he nips along my ear gently, just hard enough to make me gasp and twist in his arms.

Finally, when he’s had enough of teasing me, he grips my hips in his strong hands and holds me in place over his body. He thrusts up into me, fucking me hard, and I rock down against him, riding him for all I’m worth. I glance down between us to watch the sight of his thick cock plunging into my pussy. That’s when he lifts a hand to my belly. Holds it there against me as he continues to thrust up into me, and I press my hand down over his, eyes half shut with pleasure and joy and all the other conflicting emotions rioting through me at once.

We come at the same time, both of our cries sharp in the tight car, and I collapse across him, the windows around us fogged by now, blocking us even farther from anyone’s sight beyond. He leans the seat back, and I lie along him, savoring the sweet ache between my legs, the fullness of feeling in my belly, and the way our breath mingles, our chests rising and falling in sync as he holds me in his arms, protective and nurturing all at once.

“I can’t believe it,” he finally whispers, after a long moment of silence, and he reaches down to kiss the top of my head, his lips lingering against my hair for a moment.

“You’re going to be a father,” I whisper back, leaning up to catch his eye and smile. “And a fucking great one at that, if your own father is anyone to judge by.” I allow for a wry smile. “The insistence on his need for grandchildren aside.”

Jasper laughs, his chest vibrating pleasantly underneath me with the sound of it. “And you’re going to be the best mother around, Dee. I just know it.” His arms slip down to my waist. He kisses my forehead, my cheeks, one after the other, then the tip of my nose. Then my lips, soft and sweet. “I can’t wait to meet our little race car driver.”

I snort out a laugh. “Um, our little race car designer, thank you very much. She’ll take after me in the career department.”

“She? You don’t think he’ll be the next speed devil in a long line of his father’’ speed demon family?”

We both grin and shake our heads. “Either way,” I say.

“I can’t wait to see what the future brings,” Jasper whispers. “And I’m so lucky that I have you in my life, to face that future with.”

We’re silent for another long moment, then distracted by more kisses, our hands trailing over one another’s bodies. Jasper flips me over beneath him, and his hands wander down my hips, before he pauses, a laugh catching him by surprise.

I tilt my head and arch one brow. “What’s so funny?”

“I was just thinking. If it’s a boy, maybe we ought to name him after the person responsible for getting us together in the first place.”

I snort. But I don’t hate the idea, either. “Baby Greg?” I arch one brow. “He’d probably hate us for it.”

“He’d claim to, but deep down I think he’d secretly love it.” Jasper laughs. “I do have a lot to thank him for, at the end of the day.” Jasper cups my cheek and turns my face toward his. Then he tucks back a stray hair from my forehead. “I have him to thank for my entire life, now, Dee. Because you… you’re not just my wife. You’re my whole world.”

“And you’re mine,” I whisper. Together, we fall back into the kiss. This time, when Jasper begins to harden against my thigh, I spread my legs wide and wrap them around his waist. Let him lie down along me, as we get to work steaming up the windows of this car again.

In this moment, I realize… I couldn’t ask for anything else in life. I have everything I’ve ever dreamed of and more.

Copyright © 2019 by Penny Wylder

All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

1

I sigh and check the clock on the wall. Or at least, that’s what I pretend I’m doing. In reality, I’m checking through the large floor-to-ceiling office windows beside my desk, out of the corner of my eye. Luke is still in there, as usual. And as usual, he’s bent over his computer like a hunchback. That man is going to give himself back problems soon if I don’t step in.

That’s all I’m doing, I insist. Being a good assistant. Helping out. Making sure he doesn’t need me to book another chiropractor session in a week’s time.

This definitely isn’t an excuse to pop my head into his office for the dozenth time today. Nope. Not an excuse to stand near him and catch the scent of his cologne; the smoky, spicy scent that haunts my dreams. Not a thinly veiled reason to stand near him and hope he hands me some more paperwork, just for that split second when our fingertips brush and my whole body goes electric.

“Luke?” I tap on his doorframe.

He glances up and flashes me one of his trademark Luke Rossfield smiles. I swear, in a past life the guy must have been some kind of Nordic god or something. Tall, blond and angular, he’s got the kind of blue eyes that pierce right through you, and the cheekbones to finish the job. But when he smiles, it all softens, like he’s sharing a secret. A little hint of emotion meant just for you. “Celia.”

Not to mention the way my name melts on his tongue…

“Don’t make me call Dr. Morgen on you again.” I point at his spine.

Dutifully, he straightens, though the smile never leaves his lips. He arches his back and reaches up to rub the back of his neck with one hand. “Old habits die hard. At least that explains this crick in my neck.” His smile widens. “Thank you, Celia. What would I do without you?”

My heart skips a beat. I force myself to ignore it. “Probably slip a disc,” I respond. He laughs, and I take that as my cue to spin back to my chair. Just a few feet away, and yet, with the glass of his office between us, it feels like a million miles.

His phone starts to ring, and through the window, he catches my gaze just to roll his eyes dramatically. I check my own line, an extension of his, and immediately understand why. Tony from shipping and processing, again. It’s the dozenth time this week. Luke’s about to pick up the line when I hold up a palm to signal him, and mouth, Let me.

?

??Tony?” I pick up, my voice sweet as honey.

There’s a pause on the other end. “Celia. I was looking for Luke.”

“Of course. Unfortunately, he’s unavailable right this moment. Can I help you instead?”

Another, longer pause. Tony hates dealing with me. I suspect it’s because he doesn’t like answering to women, which is why I enjoy making him. Finally, he lets out an audible sigh over the line. “We’re going to be late with the Tuesday shipment—”

“Why is that, exactly?” I keep a smile on my face, because I swear you can hear that kind of thing over the phone.

Through the window of his office, Luke’s expression is torn somewhere between annoyance and relief that I’m handling this. Like I always do. There’s a reason I’m paid the big bucks.

I’m good at this. At handling every annoyance the world throws our way. Luke is the ideas guy, great at leading the company and developing new wild plans for where to take it. But I’m the one who excels at follow-through. I get things done.

Tony rambles through a million explanations, all of which I’ve heard before. They boil down to crappy excuses for why he hasn’t been doing his job.

“So there’s no way you’ll have the shipment processed in the next five days?” I clarify. “In that case, why don’t I just call Morgan and her crew.” The night shift in the warehouse and Tony’s mortal enemy. “We can afford to pay them overtime if it will make the difference here.”

Tony hesitates. Clears his throat. I know he’s weighing his options. Get the overtime pay himself and actually do his job? Or continue making bad excuses and give up the overtime pay—and the credit—to his arch-nemesis?

I smile at my reflection in my computer screen. I’ve got him.

“No, you know what, we can make it,” Tony says. “If it’s all right to add in a few overtime shifts for my guys…”

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