“I-I-I was coming back,” I swear, my words stumbling out through my wails. I’m an emotional mess. “It all happened so fast!”
“I know it did, baby. The detective told me. You didn’t do a damn thing wrong, darlin’.”
“How could he do that to me? I don’t understand what I did that made him target me.”
“What makes you think you did anything, Britton? Some people are just born with a screw loose. They have obsessive personalities and tend to fixate on certain people. Don’t take on his burden or make it your responsibility.”
I continue rambling, voicing my inner thoughts and questions. “What was it about me that caught his attention? I don’t want to be the object of someone’s obsession. I want to live freely, without feeling the need to look around every corner before I cross the street. Now, I’m scared of my own shadow, and I hate feeling this way. It’s not me!”
LoneStar buries my head into his neck as he brushes his hands up and down my back. Clearing his throat, he tells me, “That feeling won’t last forever, darlin’, but you’ve just been through a traumatic event and it’s gonna take some time to digest it and come out the other side.”
A mirthless giggle escapes me and I say, “I’m not sure if you’re aware of this or not, but I’m not a patient person. When I want something to happen, I want it right then.”
“I gathered that,” he says, laughing. “I’d call it being ambitious.”
“I am a bit of a ball buster when I want things my way,” I tease, my chest feeling lighter than it has since the last time I was inhis presence. It feels good to smile and be surrounded by his warmth.
“As long as my balls don’t get caught up in the mix, you can bust as many as you want,” he jokes.
“Will you be there with me?” I shyly ask. Usually, I’m more confident and not as hesitant to ask what I want, but right now, I’m petrified of his answer being no instead of yes.
“Always. As long as you want me there, I won’t be anywhere else,” he promises.
I lick my dry lips, then blurt out the words I’ve been holding in since I saw him enter my room. “I hope you mean that, LoneStar, because you’re going to be tied to me for at least eighteen years and seven and a half months, give or take.” To make my point, I take his arm, thread my fingers through his, and press our joined hands over my womb. “I didn’t know for sure until I was admitted and the doctor confirmed it, I wouldn’t keep something like that from you, but I started having suspicions over the last few days.”
“You having my baby, Britton?” he asks, his eyes shiny as he stares down at me.
“Yeah. You’re going to be a daddy, LoneStar,” I convey. He lifts the mask from my face and crashes his lips on mine. Monitors go crazy and our kiss is broken when a team of nurses and the doctor come rushing inside.
He gives them a bedazzled look and utters, “Oops. Sorry about that. I just found out I’m gonna be a dad and we may have gotten a little excited.”
“Overzealous is more like it,” I giggle.
“I guess it’s a good thing I was about to come and remove that mask from you then,” the doctor states, giving me a scolding look. “All of your labs came back clear so we’re ready to release you. Normally, I’d keep you overnight for observation, but as I understand it, where you’re going, there’s someone there that can monitor you.”
“There is?” I ask, nobody coming to mind.
“Splicer’s a medic who has the training to see you through this,” Riptide replies as he comes walking into the room. “How you doing, Britton?”
“I’m surviving, Rip,” I answer. “How are things on the homestead?” The only reason I ask him that question is because I remember Professor Stratton mentioning there was some unusual activity going on with the club.
“Same old, same old,” he nonchalantly answers. “Same thing, different day. You know how that goes.”
“I do know how that goes and I’d like this one to be over.” I twist to the doctor and ask, “When can I be discharged?”
“I’d like to get a sonogram done before you leave and they’re a tad backed up at the moment so it’ll be at least four hours before I can sign off on your discharge papers,” he informs me, which causes me to pout.
“Turn that frown upside down, darlin’. I’d like to see our little one and know how they’re doing,” LoneStar admits.
“Little one? Are you pregnant, Britton?” Riptide asks, a blinding smile spread across his face, spanning from one cheek to the other.
“Yeah, man. We’re gonna have a little one in a few months,” LoneStar brags.
“Congratulations, to the both of you,” Riptide raves. “It’s time we start making preparations for the next generation.” I roll my eyes because Elodie is the oldest and is nowhere near ready to start training for club life.
Shaking myself out of that musing, I lightly shove my elbow into his gut and criticize, “You make it sound like it’s going to happen sooner than it is. Give me some time to wrap my head around being a mom before we start planning the birth.”
Riptide barks with laughter, and LoneStar fixes me with a narrow-eyed look. “Britton, I’m not sure whether you know this about me, but I’m a planner,” he says, echoing my earlier words and turning them back on me.
