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“Are you still tired?” Pierce asks.

She nods.

I huff a laugh and put my arm around her, pulling her even closer.

“You hungry, baby?” I ask.

“A little,” she mumbles against my chest.

“A little?” Pierce repeats with a laugh. “You ate a whole pie on the way home.”

“Your baby was hungry,” she says.

“Our baby is always hungry,” I point out.

She lifts her head just enough to glare at me. “Are you complaining?”

“Never.” I hold my hand up so she knows I mean it.

Pierce chuckles and gets to his feet. “I'll get you some soup, sweetheart.”

“With bread?” she asks.

“Of course.”

“And butter?”

“Yes, Rae.” He laughs. “Bread and butter.”

Satisfied, she settles against me again, one hand resting on her round belly. I place mine over it, rubbing my thumb across the fabric of her shirt.

It still blows my mind that there's a little person in there. Someone who's going to depend on us for everything. Someone who's going to call me Dad.

Hell, I can barely wrap my head around it.

“You nervous?” Rae asks quietly.

I glance down at her. “About what?”

“The baby.”

“Terrified.”

She laughs, and I smile.

“Me too,” she admits.

“We'll figure it out.”

“You sound pretty sure of that.”

“I am.” I press a kiss to her forehead. “We've got each other. That's a pretty good start.”

Pierce returns with a bowl of soup and enough bread to feed all three of us. He hands it to Rae before settling on her other side, resting a hand on her belly.

“You know,” he says, “we're going to need a bigger couch.”

“Why?” Rae asks between bites.