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CHAPTER 29
OLIVIA
Iwatched Jolette flee the house like Walker was chasing after her with a butcher knife. It was one of the most satisfying things I’d ever seen. Only possibly trumped by the knife being actually included in the scene.
But I couldn’t feel completely relieved.
It was out there now, the news about the baby.
And I had no idea how he was going to react.
He shut the door and paused for a second before he spun slowly towards me, his blue gaze hard to read. His hair was sexily tousled from practice and his shirt was tight enough that I could easily take in the fact that his body was perfect.
Perfect and mine.
At least before this news.
"You're going to have my baby." His words hung in the air, and I wasn’t sure if he’d asked a question or just said it, but I nodded my head anyway.
I held up trembling hands, my heart racing. "I know it's soon, and I know we didn’t plan this…but..." My voice trailed off, choked with emotion, and I struggled to find the right words to express the depth of my feelings since I’d see those two pinklines. "I already love it,” I finally whispered. “I understand if you need time?—”
In one swift motion, Walker scooped me up into his arms, spinning me around with a whoop of excitement that filled the room.
"You're having my fucking baby!" His words rang out, a declaration of love and happiness that washed over me like champagne bubbles, giddiness drowning out the doubts and fears that had plagued me moments before.
A laugh spilled out of me, tears of relief streaking down my cheeks.
I took a mental picture of his face. The pure elation written across his features. Elation that he’d created something with me.
Me. Olivia Jones. The girl who ruined everything she touched.
Walker set me back down, his arms still wrapped tightly around me.
“I love you. I love you. I love you,” he murmured, each word punctuated with a kiss to the tip of my nose.
I’m sure the grin on my face was ridiculous, but I couldn’t help it. I’d thought that I was happy before with him…but this…this was on a whole other level.
“Our little Shmoopy,” he sighed, stroking a hand over my flat stomach.
For what seemed like my entire life, I’d been worried about my weight, monitoring everything that went into my mouth so I looked perfect up there on the stage. It was kind of crazy to think I couldn’t wait to have a bump.
Wait a minute.
“Did you just call the baby a ‘shmoopy’?” I asked, aghast.
“We can workshop it. But it just came to me. Or should we call it ‘lover bean’ or ‘googly bear’? Either of those would be good,” he commented innocently.
He was handling this so well. Why wasn’t he freaking out more?
"Why aren't you acting…surprised?" I asked, my voice tinged with curiosity and a hint of disbelief, as I searched his face.
Walker's grin widened, his eyes twinkling mischievously as he pulled me even closer, his warmth seeping into my skin. "I knew already," he confessed, his voice low and intimate as he pressed a soft kiss on my lips. "You were nauseous, throwing up, your boobs grew at least one size bigger, and you cried at a McDonald’s commercial." He chuckled softly, pressing a tender kiss to my forehead. “It was pretty obvious.”
I blushed, feeling like an idiot. Because in retrospect, those had been very obvious signs that I must have been trying really hard to miss.
"I just wanted you to figure it out yourself so you didn't freak out,” he said smoothly.
“You’re handling this so much better than I thought you would,” I murmured, tears clouding my vision.Again.
