“And you’re sure the test is accurate?”
“Yes. I mean, I should go to a doctor to make it official, but these tests are pretty reliable.”
He nods, slowly processing. Then he looks at me with those intense eyes that seem to see straight through me. “How do you feel about it? What’s your initial reaction?”
“I’m…” I take a shaky breath. “I’m scared. And overwhelmed. But also happy, I think. I don’t know. I guess I’m still processing.”
“Are you worried I won’t be happy about this?”
The question is so direct and so typical of Grant that I can’t help but answer honestly. “Yes.”
His expression softens, and he reaches out to pull me close. “I’m happy, Hurricane. I’m so fucking happy I can barely think straight.”
“You are?”
“Yes.” He leans his forehead against mine. “You’re having my baby. We’re having a baby together. How could I not be happy about that?”
Relief crashes through me so hard my knees go weak. “It’s just that babies are messy, you know? Way messier than a kid April’s age. There’s crying and diapers and sleepless nights and spit-up and chaos everywhere. Your house is going to be a disaster. Your routine is going to be completely destroyed.”
“I don’t care.”
“You say that now, but I promise it’s a lot.”
“I don’t care,” he repeats, more firmly this time. “I’ve made room in my life for the mess. For the chaos. For all of it. I want this, Heather. I want you, and I want April, and I want this baby.”
I search his face for any sign of doubt or hesitation, but all I see is certainty.
“I used to wonder why I ended up with this huge house,” he continues. “I was so busy with training and games when I moved here that I just told my real estate agent to find me something big and let them basically pick it for me. It felt too empty, like way too much space for one person. But now I realize it was for this. For you and April. For our family.”
Hearing him say those words out loud makes me smile in a way nothing else can.
“I love you so fucking much,” he says. “I love you, and I love April, and I already love this baby. You mean everything to me. Everything.”
It’s hard to speak past the lump of emotion in my throat, but I still manage. “I love you too, Grant. I love you so, so much.”
When he kisses me, it’s deep and intimate and full of promise. I kiss him back, pouring everything I feel into it—all my love, all my relief, and all my hope for the future we’re building together.
When we break apart, we’re both breathing hard.
“We’re having a baby,” I whisper, even though it still doesn’t quite feel real.
“We’re having a baby,” he repeats, grinning like I’ve never seen him grin before.
He reaches down and lifts me, and I instinctively wrap my legs around his waist as he carries me into the bedroom.
“Fuck, you’re so beautiful,” he growls between kisses. “I can’t wait to see your belly get big with our baby.”
I laugh, loving how into it he is. Then my laugh turns into a moan when he grinds against me and slowly lowers me onto the bed. “God, that feels good.”
He starts to pull back, and I groan in frustration. “Don’t tease me, Grant. You know what I need.”
“Tell me.”
“I need you to fuck me,” I answer without hesitating. Being with him has made me more secure in asking for all the things I want and need, especially in the bedroom. “I want to feel you inside me. Now.”
“That’s my girl.” He reaches for my waist and pulls down my pajama shorts and panties with a quick tug. “But first, I’m going to eat that sweet pussy until you can’t take it anymore.”
He spreads my legs and kisses a path up the inside of my thigh, getting closer and closer to the place where I’m already aching for him.
