Page 37 of The Billionaire Alpha's Surprise Baby

He raises an eyebrow. “Old injury?”

“Yeah,” I say quickly, wishing the hospital gown had long sleeves that I could pull down over the gash. “I-I’m a waitress. I got cut a while ago with some broken glass.”

Dr. Turner stares at the wound for a few more seconds but doesn’t press the issue. “All right. Let’s have a look at that baby . . . just to make sure everything looks good.”

Dragging in a shaky breath, I fold the blankets down around my waist and pull up the front of my gown. I stiffen as the doctor squirts the cold gel on my belly and moves the ultrasound wand over my stomach.

A grainy picture fills the screen on the little machine beside my bed, and I see Garrett’s posture change. His head juts forward, and his brows knit together as he searches for a glimpse of our baby.

“And . . . there we are,” Dr. Turner mutters, moving the wand until the ghostly white outline of a baby solidifies.

Tears burn in my throat, and I feel my eyes start to tingle. This is the second time I’ve seen the baby on an ultrasound, but this is the first time it actually looks like a baby.

“Good strong heart tones,” says Dr. Turner.

I let out a breath, and Garrett steps forward until he’s standing less than a foot from the screen. He’s staring at the baby as if he’s some NASA scientist seeing an alien life form for the very first time.

His throat bobs as he takes in the image of our squirming baby, and I notice his eyes look oddly shiny.

“Little guy looks great,” Dr. Turner concludes. “I wouldn’t worry.”

“W-what?” I stammer, turning to look at him.

“Oh, I’m sorry.” The doctor rubs his forehead, looking frustrated with himself. “Did you not want to know the sex? I shouldn’t have said anything.”

“No, it’s —” I break off, reeling from the news. I’m going to have a little boy. Our baby is really real. “I just . . . didn’t know.”

“Oh.” The doctor looks relieved. “Well, congratulations. I don’t think you have anything to worry about.”

Except that I’m about to give birth to a wolf-shifter baby, I think. Will the baby come out as a wolf?

The thought makes all the blood drain from my face, but I decide to worry about that later.

I don’t hear what the doctor says next. I’m too busy trying to wrap my head around what it’s going to be like raising a little wolf shifter. He turns off the ultrasound machine and hustles out of the room, but Garrett continues to stare at the blank screen.

“Are you okay?” I ask, suddenly nervous that seeing the baby on the ultrasound made it all too real and that he’s having second thoughts.

But when Garrett finally turns to look at me, I’m startled to see that he has tears in his eyes. “Better than all right,” he rasps. “I . . .” He drags in a shuddering breath. “I don’t think I’ve ever felt this happy in my life.”

My heart swells at those words, all fears of giving birth to a wolf baby evaporating at once.

“It’s a boy,” I sigh, tears leaking from my eyes as I imagine holding a tiny baby with curly brown hair and big blue eyes.

“It’s a boy,” Garrett repeats. “A son.” His voice breaks on the last word, and I can see that he’s overwhelmed. He’s probably thinking of his own shitty upbringing, but I know in my heart of hearts that Garrett isn’t anything like his father.

“You’re going to be an amazing dad,” I assure him.

Garrett cracks a soft smile, and his gaze turns tender as he looks at me. “You’re already an amazing mother.”

Something about that statement tugs at my heart, and it’s all I can do to keep from dissolving into a fit of full-blown tears. In the span of one night, I was almost murdered. I found out that my baby daddy is a powerful wolf shifter, and I learned that I’m having a son.

Garrett heaves a sigh and sits down on the bed, staring at my injured arm as if he’s still beating himself up for what his sister did.

I don’t blame him for Hyacinthe’s fucked-up actions, but I do have a lot of questions. “What happened tonight . . . back at the bridge?”

Garrett’s brows knit together. “What do you mean?”

“I mean . . .” I open my mouth and shake my head. It’s such a loaded question. “How did you manage to heal me?”

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