"How can you tell?"
"They always settle when we're in here. Or when you talk to them." He tipped his head back against my shoulder. "Your voice calms them down. It calms me too."
I pressed my mouth to his temple and held him and didn't say anything because I didn't need to.
After, we got into bed. He curled against my chest in the way he had since the first night he'd stayed, and I put my hand on his stomach. The baby was quiet, settled for the night.
"Renard?"
"Hmm?"
"Tonight was the first time I felt like I belonged in your world. Not just the shifter part but the hockey part, the public part, all of it." There was a long pause. "Like I had a place."
"You've always one, right here in my heart."
"I know. But tonight I felt it." His hand covered mine on his stomach. "I want our kid to grow up knowing both their parents were there. In the stands, on the ice, wherever. I don't want them to wonder."
"They won't." I pressed my mouth against his hair. "I promise."
He was quiet long enough that I thought he'd fallen asleep. Then he murmured, "We still haven't agreed on a name."
"We have plenty of time."
"You say that about everything." But he was smiling. I could feel it against my chest.
"Love you," he whispered, most of the way asleep.
"Love you too. Both of you."
I lay there listening to his slow breathing. And underneath it, very faint, the tiny rapid heartbeat that still stunned me every time I heard it. That sound was better than any shutout or win.
FIFTEEN
JULIAN
Renard had kept the destination a secret until we were in the car.
"The coast," was all he'd said when I'd asked, and then he'd connected his phone to the speakers and refused to answer follow-up questions. But when the trees opened up, I caught my first glimpse of the ocean.
The resort was small and quiet, tucked into a cove away from the main tourist strip. There were low white buildings half-hidden in greenery with a private path down to the beach. It was the kind of place that existed to give you an excuse to do nothing. Our room had a private patio overlooking the water. Renard had requested the ground floor so I wouldn't have to manage stairs at seven months pregnant.
He always thought of everything.
"This was a good idea."
Renard brought the bags in and I stood looking at the ocean. "You've said that three times since we got here."
"Because it's true." I turned to look at him. "When did you plan all this?"
"A few weeks ago. I wanted us to have time together before everything changes."
There were two months left before the baby arrived. Rita had moved me off dog walking at seven months to desk work that included client scheduling and bookkeeping. I could barely see my feet, but I missed the dogs, the routine and being outside.
He kissed the top of my head. "Dinner reservations in an hour."
I showered and changed into the one good outfit I'd packed that still fit. I studied my huge bump in the mirror and when I emerged, Renard was buttoning his shirt. I admired his dark slacks and charcoal button-down. The combination made his eyes look almost silver.
"You're staring," he said, catching my eye in the mirror.
