I cup my hands around her neck and stroke her pulse. “It’s all right. Whatever it is, we’ll figure it out.”
“Really hope you mean that, because…” She tugs something out of the back pocket of her shorts and hands it to me. It’s wrapped in a paper towel.
And when I open it, my heart drops into my stomach before bouncing back in my chest. Haven’t felt this way since I was eight years old and my father bought me my first bike.
There are two different pregnancy tests in there. The first one has lines I guess I’m supposed to interpret, but the second one has a huge plus sign on it.
Words seem inadequate, and I can’t form a fucking sentence. So, I reach for her, tugging her to me, realizing that between the two of us is a fucking life form that’s going to be the perfect mix of me and her.
I’m gonna be a dad.
I’m gonna have a child to love and protect.
A child I can teach to ride a bike.
“Thank you,” I finally manage, even though it doesn’t come close to expressing what I’m feeling. “Jesus, Maren. Thank you.”
I cup her cheeks and hold her away from me. There’s excitement and fear and love and a million other things in her eyes. Like me, the emotions are just too much for her to contain, and the tears spill over.
“You’re sure you’re happy about this?” she asks.
“Happy doesn’t even begin to describe it. I feel like we might be doing all this ass backwards. But I’m gonna marry you, whenever you want, and we’re gonna live the shit out of this life. Because of you”—I drop my palm to her stomach—“and this little one. You’re the best thing that ever happened to me.”
She blows out a breath. “Thank goodness.”
Unable to contain myself, I tug her to me again and wrap my arms tightly around her, enveloping her. I bury my head in her hair and mutter a thousand promises.
“You two will never want for anything. I’m gonna protect you and love you, and I’m sure you’ll both wrap me around your little fingers when I think I’m being this big, tough, alpha dude.”
Maren chuckles against me. “I should go see the doctor, at some point.”
“I’ll take you,” I say, but as I do, I wonder if pregnant women are safe on bikes.
“And get some maternity vitamins.”
“Tell me which one you need and I’ll go get them.”
She rolls her eyes. “I’m capable of going to the store on my own. And I’m going to work until I pop, so you can get over any ideas you have of keeping me home.”
“Whatever you say,” I say, more so we can keep enjoying this moment, because the day I see her waddle or wince or hold her back, I’ll be drawing lines.
She raises one eyebrow, like she knows what I’m thinking.
“Okay,” I admit. “I might have a problem with that, but I’ll try not to be too overbearing.”
Then, Maren smiles at me. Like she sees me. Sees my every attribute and flaw and yet still wants me. “In that case, I’ll try to listen when you encourage me to rest.”
“I’ve got something for you,” I say. “Wait there.”
I move back into church and grab the cut off the table.
“Everything okay with Maren?” Sunny asks.
“Golden,” I say. Because if I tell them now, it’ll be about me becoming a father, and I want this to be about Maren wearing this, first. “But I’m gonna give this to Maren, now, because she just made my fucking day.”
I walk back into the bar feeling happier than any man has a right to. Especially a man like me. My men are flanking me, and Maren is standing where I left her, twisting her fingers together with a soft smile on her face.
Jesus.
