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“You’re pregnant?”
“I don’t know, but my boobs hurt, and I cry at the drop of a hat.” I hold up the pregnancy test. “One way to find out.”
He nods. “Go pee on that stick, angel.”
I head to the bathroom and do my business, replacing the cap and rejoining my husband in the kitchen. I place the test face-down on the counter, determined not to look for the two minutes.
Harrison comes behind me, wrapping his arms around my waist and nuzzling my neck. “I love you.”
I tip my head back to capture his eyes. “I know.”
We married a month after Harrison chased me to the Catskills, and we decided not to wait to start our family. This is our third time suspecting,hopingI’m pregnant. The other times I was late, the test was negative, and I got my period a few days later. This time, I forced myself to wait an extra week before telling Harrison.
Everything else with Harrison and me has been so perfect, and a baby would be the cherry on top of our happiness. Not a day goes by without my husband telling me he loves me, but he shows me in other ways. Bringing me flowers or breakfast in bed, rubbing my feet, or making me come on his mouth or his cock as often as possible. He can’t get enough of me, and I love it.
Harrison returned to college part-time to get his coaching qualification while working with Bill Hamble, The Rangers head coach. To say he loves his new job is an understatement. He gets the best of both worlds—staying hands-on with the players while getting quality time on the ice, albeit in a training capacity.
And Shelley? Well, it seems the complaint Harmony logged against her wasn’t the only one. Others had come forward to complain about her unprofessional tactics, and she was “released” from her contract with the media company. Can’t say I was sorry to hear that piece of news.
As for me, I still do some PA work for Harmony Mack, but mostly from home. I recently found out I’m going to be an auntie as Harmony is expecting their first baby. Their schedule will look a little different for a while, with them dedicating more time to songwriting instead of touring.
While Harrison’s new job is still in New York, we decided to buy a house closer to his work to reduce his commute. We bought a Cape Cod house on Lake Peekskill with five bedrooms, a large, sun-filled living area, and an open-concept kitchen with granite worktops—which is where we’re currently standing, staring at the little plastic stick that may be about to change our lives.
“Is that two minutes?” I ask in a whisper.
“Almost three,” Harrison murmurs.
“Okay. Here goes.” I turn the pregnancy test over.
A sob escapes my throat, and my husband’s warm hands move to cradle my stomach. His voice is husky with emotion as he says, “Love you, momma.”
