Jace nodded his head, not looking up from the tea kettle as he poured her a cup of hot tea. He was so cute, concentrating on making her something to warm her up, but she knew from experience that he didn’t like anyone to call him that—not even his sister. For a biker, being called cute was the kiss of death. And for some reason, being a big, tough biker along with an FBI agent made it even worse.
“Why did you leave?” she almost whispered. When Jace didn’t respond, Winter cleared her throat to make sure that he had heard her. “After our night together, why did you leave?” she repeated.
He shrugged, still not looking at her as he swirled her tea back in the hot water. “You know what I do for a living, Winter,” he said, as though that would explain everything to her.
“I do, but that doesn’t explain why you left,” she insisted.
“I left because I’m being hunted. The same men who came after Rebel and Bolt are coming for me, too. I had no choice but to take off, otherwise I’d risk putting everyone that I cared about in danger—including you.” She was sure that he didn’t mean to just tell her that he cared about her. Sure, they had circled each other for weeks at Savage Hell, but they never really talked. Not until the night that they agreed to spend together. The night that she got pregnant.
“Jace, I’m going to need you to look at me,” she said. He hesitated, and she thought for sure that he wasn’t going to give in to her demand, but he did. He looked her over from head to toe, and she could tell the exact moment that he noticed her belly. His eyes rested on her bump as she gently rubbed it.
“What is that?” he asked.
“Well, this is my belly, and inside, there is a baby. Tell me that you’ve seen a pregnant woman before, Jace,” she teased. Her go-to move for uncomfortable situations was to use humor—and right now, this was the most uncomfortable situation that Winter had ever been in.
“Of course, I’ve seen a pregnant woman before, Winter. I just didn’t think that you’d be, well, you know, pregnant.” Jace handed her the cup of hot tea, and she thanked him. “I guess I should say congratulations.” Yeah, he was taking his time getting to the realization that he was the baby’s father, but she was pretty sure that once the shock wore off, he’d figure it out.
Winter crossed the room to sit on the sofa, feeling more fatigued than ever once she started to warm up. “How far along are you?” he asked, sitting down next to her.
“About eight months,” she whispered. This was the part that she had dreaded and dreamed about for months now. She was going to have to spell it out for him, though, and she wasn’t sure how to do that.
He stilled next to her on the sofa, and she nodded her head. “It’s why I’ve come all this way, Jace,” she breathed. Now it was her turn to avoid eye contact with him. “I’m pregnant, and the baby is yours.”
He took her hot tea from her and set it on the coffee table. She worried what he might do next, but she hadn’t figured on him pulling her onto his lap and wrapping his arms around her. “Why didn’t you tell me sooner?” he whispered against her neck. “I could have helped you.”
“I didn’t really need any help. Besides, I didn’t know where you were, and when I finally got up the nerve to ask Rebel, she said that she couldn’t tell me. I figured that you just didn’t want to see me again and left it at that.”
“Rebel said that you asked about me, but she never said that you’re pregnant. I’m pretty sure that I’d remember her telling me that,” he said.
“She doesn’t know about the baby. I hid him under my baggy clothing. If someone asked about my weight gain, I told them that I have a sweet tooth. It’s not a lie—all this kid wants is sweets.”
“Did you just call the baby a him?” Jace asked. Winter thought back over what she had just said to him and nodded.
“Yes,” she said. “Looks like we are having a boy.” She shifted off his lap, back onto the sofa, needing to say this next part without him touching her. “I don’t expect you to be involved in either of our lives, Jace. I just wanted you to know about him.” She rubbed her hands over her belly, smiling when the baby kicked her.
“He’s kicking,” she whispered. “Do you want to feel?” Jace nodded, and she took his hand and placed it on her belly. The baby seemed to take that as his cue to kick his father’s hand, and Jace’s expression was pure magic.
“That’s so fucking cool,” he whispered, as though saying it too loudly would scare the baby off.
“Yeah, it took some getting used to. Especially at night when he kicks me so much that I can’t sleep,” she admitted.
“What if I want to be a part of the baby’s life, Winter?” he asked, not taking his hand off her belly. “What if I want to be a part of both of your lives?” Hearing him say those words to her was almost too much.
She swiped at the hot tears that spilled down her face. “Stupid hormones,” she said, blaming her emotional outburst onsomething other than the kind words that Jace had just said to her was the easy way out. Winter hated mushy love declarations, not that Jace was making one right now.
“I think that we’d both like to have you in our lives,” she admitted. It was more than she could have hoped for, but at the same time, it scared her to death. She had never been in a relationship that lasted more than a night or two, and she never called them relationships. But for some reason, Winter dared to hope that was what Jace was offering her. Winter was going to get her Christmas miracle, and for a goth girl from the wrong side of the tracks, that was the best gift of all.
JACE
Jace hadn’t let go of Winter all night. The storm still howled outside, rattling the old cabin like it wanted in, but inside it was warm—almost too warm. The fire in the wood stove burned steadily, but it wasn’t what was making his pulse race. It was the woman curled up next to him on the couch, a cup of tea cooling in her hands. The gray sweats he had lent to her were too big for her, but her belly was too round to ignore.
He’d replied to her words a hundred times in his head already. “I’m pregnant, and the baby is yours.” Yet, Winter had let eight months pass before telling him about his baby. Eight months of him not knowing. Eight months of living like a ghost while she was carrying a piece of him inside her. He wasn’t sure whether to be furious at himself, at the world, or at the bastards who had forced him to disappear. All he knew was that something inside him had shifted the second she’d guided his hand to her belly, and he’d felt their son kick.
Their son—God, he was going to be a father to a little boy. He had no idea how to be anyone’s father. Growing up without one hadn’t taught him much. How could he guarantee Winter that he’d be a good dad to their baby? He couldn’t.
Jace wasn’t the type to panic easily—usually. As an FBI agent, he had faced killers and been undercover for years. He had lived with a target on his back for so long that fear was more like background noise to him. But this was different. This wasn’t about him. This was about the little life he hadn’t even known existed until tonight.
“You’re quiet,” Winter said softly. Her voice was raw, tired, but steady. “Say something before I start panicking.”
