“No.” The sonographer says kindly, smiling at me. “That was you.”
I bite down on a grin. “Guess the baby doesn’t like me laughing.”
“Guess we’re gonna have to work on that,” Reid mutters, still watching like he’s trying to memorize every pixel. “You’re not getting through life without some chaos and laughter, little one.”
There’s something in his voice, low and awed and entirely unguarded, that makes my heart stutter harder than the baby’s.
The scan ends, and I wipe the gel from my stomach. The tech prints us a few photos, and Reid accepts them like they’re sacred, tucking them gently into his wallet before we head outside.
We sit in the car with the windows cracked, the sun already heating the dash. Reid hasn’t started the engine yet; we both just sit there.
“I keep thinking I’ll get used to it,” I murmur, still staring out the windshield. “But every time, it hits in a different way.”
He slides a hand over the console, rough fingertips curling under the hem of my shirt to find the small curve of my belly. It’s barely there, the faintest swell, and he rests his large, sturdy palm there—a reminder he’s here with me.
I exhale. “It’s a little more real now, huh?”
“Was real the second I knew about it, Havoc.” There’s no hesitation whatsoever. “But yeah. Seeing the baby like that…”
He doesn’t need to say more, just lets his hand linger warmly against my skin.
The shape of the baby on the screen is still burned into the backs of my eyes. The rhythm of that heartbeat. The way Reid gripped my hand, like he could anchor me to the ground.
“When will you tell your family?”
I lick my lips. “Eventually.”
His fingers flex gently against my skin, and I take another breath.
“My mom’ll probably be happy,” I say. “In her way. She’ll send a text with a bunch of exclamation points and a sunflower emoji. My stepdad will send money instead of a gift, and my sister will do the wholeoh my god, I’m so excitedthing while still forgetting my birthday.”
He’s watching me, I can feel it. The drag of his gaze searching my face, trying to ensure he’s not upsetting me, that I’m not hurt by the truths I’m telling him.
“I prefer it like that,” I add quickly, defending the version of me I’ve built. “It’s easier. They’re not cruel or anything, I just… I don’t have to deal with pretending they’re invested when they’re not.”
He opens his mouth, pauses, then looks me directly in the eye.
“You’ll never be an afterthought to me, Carina.”
My throat tightens instantly, and that stupid, stinging burn behind my eyes kicks up without mercy. I blink hard, willing it down.
“I know,” I manage. “But don’t say that to me right now. I’m already two seconds away from crying, and it’s rude to emotionally ambush a pregnant woman in broad daylight.”
He huffs a quiet laugh. “Right. My mistake.”
My head tilts back on the headrest as I exhale, and his hand trails up to tuck a strand of hair behind my ear. “You too hormonal for a kiss?”
I glance over, narrowing my eyes. “Depends. Is it gonna be a nice kiss or a horny one?”
“Just a kiss,” he says, already leaning in. “Unless you’re gonna make it complicated.”
I don’t get a chance to answer before he’s kissing me.
It’s not long or heated or filthy the way it was last time we were in his car after a scan, but his steady mouth on mine still makes something flutter low in my belly.
When he pulls back, I stay close.
“Well,” I murmur, his nose brushing mine, “at least we didn’t fuck in the car this time.”
