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She kept her eyeballs from rolling in her head with the mention of that incident. “I wasn’t going to ask about the ability to fight on separate teams. I was…”
He waited, as patient as an older brother.
“Going to tell you that I’m pregnant.”
If she’d slapped the man, she wouldn’t have gotten more of a shocked reaction. He rocked back in his seat, jaw agape.
“Pregnant?” He looked her over as if he could see some external sign.
She nodded, fingers twisting in her lap. “I haven’t known very long.”
“And your plans?”
“I’m keeping the baby. I’m sure you know what Slade and I are facing, what with Gia and all.” Sparrow’s own child would be brought into the world that he fought to make a better place. And for the first time, she realized how much that must scare the hell out of him.
“I get it. And I’m seriously struggling to wrap my head around how we’re going to function without you for the upcoming months, Graham.”
Tears filled her eyes. Horrible, ugly-cry tears. His words hit her like nothing else could.
“I don’t want to take this leave, but I have to. Life took the wheel, and now I have to adapt to the changes. I’m not unhappy about the baby.” She sniffled and dabbed at a tear leaking from the corner of her eye. “But I’m so damn sorry about leaving my team.”
He pressed a fist to his mouth, contemplating her for a long heartbeat. “We’ll adapt, as you said. Just know that whatever decision you make, you’re always welcome here.”
She nodded. Her heart lodged in her throat alongside a big lump of salty tears. Afraid she’d break down and bawl like the wimp she wasn’t, she quickly stood.
“I’ll keep you posted on the situation,” she told him.
He came around the desk and pulled her into his embrace. “Damn right you will, Graham. You’re Blackout—and you always will be.”
Feeling shaky and emotionally worn down, Lena walked out of Sparrow’s office. She only made it a few steps before Frost invited her to a game of poker. When she declined, Gia and Farah pulled her into a conversation about the best date to throw Gia’s baby shower.
Then she found Slade manning the stove. His back was to her, broad shoulders set and his pose relaxed. Who knew the man could cook? He’d been holding out on her for a long time, it seemed. His jeans hung on his hips, accentuating his carved ass and the long, lean hardness of his legs.
She sniffed the air. “That doesn’t smell like tacos.”
He twisted. When he looked at her face, he set down the wooden spoon he’d been stirring marinara sauce with and hurried to her.
“You’ve been crying.” He brushed his thumb along the corner of her eye.
She nodded and clutched his hand, holding it like a lifeline. “It wasn’t an easy thing to do.”
“And Sparrow?”
“Was like a big brother. Very understanding. He said all the right things.”
He enveloped her in his arms, tucking her head beneath his chin. She breathed in his personal scent she enjoyed so much and absorbed the support of the man she loved.
Shedidlove Slade. And they were having a baby together. What was she waiting for?
She stepped back enough to look up into his eyes. All of a sudden, a string of words hit her tongue. She burned to speak them but was afraid of the power of the words too.
He searched her face. “What is it, MJ?”
A noise broke from her throat. Gathering her hand in his, she brought it to rest over her heart. Their gazes locked.
“I think we should get married, Slade. Again.”
Her statement blindsided him—she saw by the way his eyes flared and his jaw dropped.
