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He shrugs, peels the outer layer off a cinnamon roll, and hip-checks my wispy little ginger. “With the way you two barricade yourselves in various areas of the house at all hours of the day and night, who knows?”
Ivy scrunches her lips into a rueful frown, but he wipes it away with a kiss on the cheek.
“Best fucking cinnamon rolls I’ve ever had, Ivy. I’ll guard themwith my lifewhile you tend to Chief.”
She laughs, leaning into his affection before pushing off toward me and discarding her apron. “They’re only that good because you’re a stellar baking partner.” Whirling back around, she wags a finger at him, adding with a stern set of her jaw, “Leave some for Liam and Ty. They’re taking a cheat day, so they’ll want their fill.”
He stuffs one in his mouth with a muffled, “Yes, ma’am.”
She threads her fingers into my outstretched hand with an impish grin and follows me up the back staircase to our master, not even waiting for us to cross the threshold to coast her hand over my back with a seductive purr. “God, you know what it does to me to see you dressed in jeans and a T-shirt. Bare feet.Seriously,Wells, we have a houseful of people to prepare for.”
I pull her into the room and close the door with a smirk. “Not now, Ives. Always so damn greedy.”
Her eyes squint with a suspicious glint, which is fair. I’m not sure I’ve ever told her we don’t have time to mess around. I might be showing my hand too early, but all logic and sound thinking are drowning in last night’s hot tub.
She smacks me on my chest—pausing in appreciation of my sculpted pecs, which brings a proud smile to my face—before drilling her nail into my muscle with a quizzical, “What’s going on?”
“You were right last night.” I hand her the bag, swallowing my eagerness. “Something is blooming.”
She glances inside, then back at me, mouth agape. “No. I’m on …” The protest dies on her now-slack tongue. Truth swirling. Gut confirming.
I snake my arm around her waist, erasing the space between us. “We’ve had so much going on, and your cycles are never regular. It makes sense that we missed it. I checked your calendar. You were due for a shot in February. You’ve missed two.”
“Shit,” she hisses, avoiding my gaze. “I don’t even know when my last period was. I’m sor—”
“Don’t even think about it.” I lift her chin and wait for those ocean eyes to see the honesty in mine as her heart thuds erratically against me. “I’m ecstatic. I probably would’ve tampered with your birth control if you hadn’t been struggling.”
“What?” she shrieks with an expression I’ve seen on a handful of occasions, all escorted by the verdict that I’m losing my mind. “Why are you so insane, Wells?”
And there it is.
I shove that away with a subtle headshake. “Don’t focus on that. Thepointis, I’m happy.” Understatement. The thought of her swollen with my child is intoxicating. I’ve always known it would be, but after hearing her fierce rebuttal against Balzano about knitting heirs apparent, I’ve been obsessed with the vision. Despite my fingersscratching the flat plane of her belly, I don’t want to be too enthusiastic in case I’m wrong, so I tack on, “But take those before we celebrate.”
“Eight of them?” She rolls her bratty blues.
“Ivanna,” I growl. “Do I look like a man willing to wait through your obstinacy? Pee in a damn cup. Dip the sticks.” I take her hand with an insistent, “C’mon,” and tow her toward the bathroom.
She scoffs and fists her hair. “You’re not coming in for the urinating part of this. Stand down. I’ll call you once it’s your time to participate.”
With that, she shuts herself inside the bathroom while I pace outside the door foreternity.
After my fifth pounding knock, she emerges with her teeth notched firmly in her lip and a timid nod. “Something’s blooming.”
I swoop her into my arms, nestling her against me with a whoop that surely transcends this twenty-seven-thousand-square-foot home. “Jesus Christ, baby.A baby.Fuck, I love you so much, Little Storm.” When I pull back to catch her gaze, her eyes are glossy, stilling me. “Oh, Ives. Are you happy? Unhappy?”
“No. Yes,” she stammers. “So happy and so sad.”
I relax my hold and settle us both in our tufted velvet love seat, cradling her on my lap. She’s probably sad about Tom, but I wait, not wanting to put words in her mouth.
She sighs a couple of beats later. “I love you, and I want this baby. So much.” She wraps her arms over her stomach. “I just wish my dad were here. He would’ve …”
“Yeah,” I agree, tugging her closer. “He would’ve been an amazing grandpa. In a way, he still will be. So much of who he was is in both of us. He’ll leave his mark on this child too.”
Her eyes sweep up to me, relief sharpening into a smile. “Heisin both of us. And he’d be livid if he knew I was lamenting instead of celebrating, so no more tears.” She straightens with a resolute swipe of her grief. “We’re having a baby. Holy smokes.” Burying her face in my neck, she adds, “Fuck that Balzano prick.”
That has us both laughing until our lips collide in tender rejoicing.Christ, I love this woman.
An hour later, Liam texts me.
