"Good. Because we're getting calls already. The switchboard is lit up." She shook her head. "This is either going to be the best thing that's ever happened to our ratings, or I'm going to have to explain to corporate why my morning show host announced his pregnancy during weather coverage."
"For what it's worth," Dawson said, "the storm system is legitimately worth monitoring."
Isla stared at him. "That's what you're concerned about right now?"
"I'm a meteorologist. It's literally my job."
This was not how I imagined it. I'd just announced my pregnancy on live television, Dawson had kissed me in front ofthousands of viewers, and somehow everything was going to be okay.
We finished the broadcast in a daze. I smiled and did my closing remarks, thanked everyone for watching, and managed not to throw up or say anything else mortifying. When we finally signed off, I collapsed into a chair.
"That happened," I said to no one in particular.
"It definitely did." Dawson sat beside me, taking my hand. "Our kid's going to love this story someday. 'Remember when Dad announced he was pregnant during a weather segment?'"
"Our child is going to be so embarrassed."
"Probably." He squeezed my hand. "But that's what parents do. They embarrass their kids and love them."
And just like that, the fear dissolved. We were having a baby. It was fast and unexpected and I'd announced it in the most unprofessional way possible.
But we were together.
"I love you," I said, the words coming easily.
"I love you too. Both of you."
"Should you mark me or something before the baby arrives?" I leaned my head on his shoulder.
"Or we can wait until our little one is here."
"I chose that option if it's okay with you."
His hand rested on my stomach again, and I thought maybe blurting out about my pregnancy on live television wasn't the worst way this could have gone.
Even if Isla was never going to let me live it down.
THIRTEEN
DAWSON
Parker had been living with me for two weeks, and I was still getting used to the small changes that came with sharing my space.
His coffee mug was on the counter next to mine and his jacket hung on the hook by the door. He hummed off-key while making breakfast and the citrus-sweet scent of him that my wolf had picked up on was woven through every room of the house, marking it as ours instead of just mine.
My wolf loved having our mate safe in our den while carrying our cub.
Parker, at ten weeks pregnant, was less enthusiastic about some aspects of his new reality.
"I don't understand how this works," he said one evening, curled up on the couch with his hand resting on the small bump that was just starting to show. "What if the baby shifts while I'm holding them? What if they get hurt and I don't know what to do? What if?—"
"Hey." I sat beside him, pulling him close. "You're going to be a great parent."
"But I'm human, Dawson. I don't know anything about shifter babies. What if I mess everything up?"
This wasn't the first time he'd voiced these fears. The pregnancy had been a surprise, but a welcome one. The shifter aspect of it, though, that worried him.
I'd explained that shifter babies didn't meet their beast until they were teens but Parker was convinced our little one was going to be different and they'd spark a revolution because they'd shift in the middle of the mall.
