Mason’s hand splays wider over my stomach. “They’ll know.”
Brookes’s voice thickens. “They’ll never doubt it.”
“And my parents…” I trail off, unsure how to finish.
Mason kisses my temple. “Your dad will come around.”
“I think so,” I whisper.
“And your mom?” Brookes asks.
I’m quiet for a moment. The ache is still there. It may always be there.
“I don’t know,” I say honestly. “But I meant what I said. I can’t live for her anymore.”
“No,” Mason says. “You live for you now.”
Brookes smiles against my skin. “And for this little bean.”
I laugh again, touching my belly. “Little bean?”
“Until further notice,” he says solemnly.
Mason hums. “I like it.”
“You would,” I tease.
Brookes lifts his head. “For the record, if it’s a girl, I’m teaching her to ride before she can walk.”
Mason snorts. “No, you’re not.”
“If it’s a boy, same plan.”
“No baby of ours is getting on a horse before they can hold their own head up.”
Brookes looks offended. “I said before walking, not before neck control.”
I laugh so hard my stomach aches, overwhelmed by this messy, beautiful love that spreads to fill all the dark, withheld places of my heart.
Brookes settles back down beside me, his hand sliding over my hip. “We need to talk about practical things soon.”
Mason groans softly. “Not tonight.”
“Not all of it,” Brookes says. “But some.”
I look at him. “Like what?”
“Like making sure you’re legally protected. Medical paperwork. The ranch. The baby. Us.”
Mason’s jaw tightens, but he nods. “He’s right. We can’t make the world understand us, but we can make sure itdoesn’t get to decide for us.”
Emotion squeezes my chest. “You’ve thought about this?”
Brookes looks at me like my question is ridiculous. “Darlin’, I’ve thought about everything.”
Mason brushes hair away from my face. “Tomorrow, we’ll start figuring it out. Whatever papers we need. Whatever conversations. We’ll make a plan. And you can think about work. It’s up to you if you want to relocate. You could start something up from here. Or don’t. We’ve got you, whatever you decide.”
Mason’s hand tightens on mine “We don’t need a test to tell us who she belongs to,” he says, his voice flat and certain. “But I want the paperwork to reflect that. We’ll sit down with a lawyer—someone discreet—to make sure the baby has both our names in whatever way the law allows.”
