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“Sure.”

I told him to go upstairs and I’d put everything away. “If you wanted, you could sleep in my bed.”

He asked about the girls, but I explained my shifter hearing would pick up tiny footsteps. “Or that and the baby monitor app.”

I watched him go up, and he stepped on that step. It took all my strength not to race up the stairs, pick him up, and toss him in my bed. But as I cleaned up, I focused on what a pregnancy meant for us and for the family. River and I should have sat down and discussed how we saw the future, and now that future had a wrinkle in it, an adorable, beloved wrinkle.

River sent a text. Where are you? Not tucked up in the pantry, I hope.

Be there in a minute.

I experienced a pang of guilt. I was keeping a secret and not one about myself as I had when we first met. Despite wanting to make love to River, I was pleased he was almost asleep when I reached my room. I slipped in beside him and wrapped him in my arms.

“This is nice,” he mumbled against my shoulder.

“This can be your room too.”

He was silent, and I cursed myself, wondering if I was rushing him.

“What about the girls?”

Telling my daughters that River and I were together was less of an upheaval than informing them we were having a baby.

“They adore you and will love having you as their dad.”

“Their dad?”

FOURTEEN

RIVER

The alarm buzzed beside me, and I fumbled for the phone. But as I lifted my head and reached over the nightstand, the room spun around.

A wave of nausea crashed over me, and I clutched my belly. I fell back on the mattress and closed my eyes. My tummy gurgled. I flung off the bedclothes and tore into the bathroom. Kneeling over the toilet, I threw up. Ugh. Maybe I shouldn’t have eaten that sushi last night. It had to be that because I was rarely sick.

After staggering back to bed, I texted Sinclair. I’m not well. Can you get the girls to school?

My belly heaved. Oh no, here we go again. But it settled, sort of. False alarm.

“Are you sick?” The girls ran in.

Ivy felt my brow and made a face. “It’s not good. Your cheeks are pale.” She climbed in beside me, her little warm body acting like a hot water bottle.

Poppy walked to the bottom of the bed and stuck her hand under the covers. “I can heat the sheets if you like.”

“That’s sweet, angel. Maybe later.”

“Don’t go anywhere.” Wren left the room and returned, dragging in her toy basket, filled with stuffies. “I have to go to school, but they will look after you.”

She proceeded to line up the toys on either side of me, on my chest, and under my feet so I was cocooned in soft toys.

“You’re the best, Poppy.” Except the girl tucking a stuffed dog under my arm was Wren, with a gap in her teeth. I never mixed them up.

Poppy gasped, “You said Poppy. That’s Wren.”

“Sorry, sweethearts. My head’s not screwed on right today.”

Poppy harrumphed. “I think you’re sick because you don’t eat enough meat.”