“And none of you knew how to tell me?” She looks between them, then laughs. “The mighty Lennox brothers, stumped by pregnancy news.”
“We weren’t stumped,” Mitch mutters, ears reddening.
“Sure you weren’t.” She turns back to me, cupping my face in her hands. “Are you happy?”
“Beyond happy,” I tell her, covering her hands with mine. “My mate. My cub. Everything I never thought I’d have.”
“Our cub.” She corrects, eyes shining. “Our family.”
“Our family.” I agree, throat tight with emotion.
“Now, I need to sit down,” she says, suddenly shaky. “This is... a lot.”
Marcus gestures to the living room, clearing his throat. “Leila’s got lunch ready, anyway.”
Over sandwiches and soup, the reality seems to sink in for Carla. She keeps touching her stomach, wonder on her face. Her other hand stays linked with mine, squeezing periodically, as if reassuring herself this is real.
“How far along?” she asks.
“Two weeks, maybe three,” I tell her. “From the scent.”
“The motel,” she says softly. A blush creeps up her cheeks as she remembers. I feel the echo of heat through our bond.
“Strong swimmers,” Mitch comments dryly, earning a glare from Marcus.
“Apparently so.” Carla nearly chokes on her water, laughing. “I want to go back to work,” she announces suddenly, setting down her spoon with determination.
We all look at her.
“The coffee shop. Lucy offered me my job back. And now...” She looks down at her stomach, hand protective. “I want our cub to see me strong. Working. Living. Not hiding.”
Pride swells in my chest, so fierce, it’s hard to breathe. My brave mate, choosing life over fear once again.
“Then you should,” I tell her.
“Really?” She searches my face.
“Whatever you want. We’ll figure it out together.”
After lunch, as we’re preparing to leave, Marcus pulls me aside. His hand grips my shoulder, firm and grounding.
“You did good,” he says quietly. “Telling her straight. No games.”
“Thanks for the advice.”
He nods, then surprises me by adding, “You’ll be a good father, Billy. Better than ours ever was.”
From Marcus, that’s practically a declaration of love.
My throat goes tight.
On the drive home, Carla is quiet, but I feel her contentment through the bond, warm and golden, like the afternoon sun. She keeps one hand on her stomach, the other holding mine.
“You okay?” I ask, glancing over at a red light.
“More than okay.” She lifts our joined hands to her lips. “Scared. Excited. Happy. All of it.”
“Me too.”
