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“Babe, you home?”
“Yep. In the kitchen.”
Easton walks in and slows, taking in the martini in front of me. “You know it’s only ten in the morning, right?”
“Sure do.”
He also notices it’s full. A martini untouched in my presence is a sure sign of trouble.
“Uh oh. What happened? Is it work?”
“Nope.”
“Then, what’s wrong? Thought you had an interview for a job this morning. Babe, we gotta be on the road to the cabin before the snow starts.”
“Yeah, already did the interview. Threw up mid-speech, and luckily, the guy offered to reschedule.”
His eyes widen. “You what? Thought you and Tory just watched movies last night.”
“We did.” I bite my bottom lip, fighting the tears.
“Then why the fuck do you look so upset with a martini in front of you at ten in the damn morning? Did something happen? Are you sick? Did you—”
“I’m pregnant.” There. I said it. Cat’s outta the bag. Shit, he doesn’t look good. “I know. I’m sorry. We had all these plans. I’ve been really good with my pills. How on earth did I mess it up and get—”
“You’re pregnant,” he cuts me off. He hasn’t moved a muscle, and it’s freaking me out.
“I am.” Tears rush down my cheek.
“Like, for real, pregnant. You’re not fucking with me?”
“Please don’t be mad,” I sob. I suck in a quick breath when he rips me from my chair into his arms.
“You’re fucking pregnant,” he repeats.
“Yeah.”
His eyes drop to my stomach. They linger, emotion welling in his eyes. “We’re having a baby.” He whispers. Then he screams, “We’re having a fucking baby!” He twirls me in his arms, his smile creating another wave of tears. “God, I love you. I love you so damn much. Thank you.”
“For what?”
“You. This gift. Our perfect life. I’ll never have enough time to show you how much you mean to me.” He kisses me with an intensity that sends shivers down my legs and curls my toes. “Love you, Cal.”
“Love you, too.”
He pulls away and, with a serious look, asks, “Thank fuck. Does this mean we get to go on a martini hiatus?”
He may have regretted the promise of drinking martinis with me in his speech that day.
“Not a chance. Someone has to keep up the momentum.”
If I thought Easton was protective over me before, being pregnant with his child took it to a whole new level. He was this dominant creature, wanting to slay whoever came near his woman. But put a baby inside her, and holy smokes, he became a fire-spitting dragon. Ahotfire-spitting dragon. It was such a turn-on. God, we had sex on every single inch of our apartment. My cheeks flush at all the places outside, in public, at bars. The list goes on and on. Easton was a powerhouse, and I was most definitely there for the ride.
Until now.
When he tells me no.
“So, you’re gonna let me drive or what? If not, I can always find someone else who’ll let me. That cute guy working at the general store, maybe.” His palm presses to the middle of my back. It doesn’t take much for my skin to become heated. His hand lowers and massages the palm of my ass, then slaps me.
