Page 183 of The Beta's Blind Date

“She will know her father,” he says, giving me a pointed look. “She’ll have you, the male who claimed her as his own, without a second thought. You’re more her father than I ever was or will be.”

He sits back in his chair, one hand gripping the arm and the other pressing fingers into his eyes, his face turned away from us. I glare at him, flaming daggers thrown from my eyes. This is what I thought I wanted—him out of our lives—but now that he’s giving it to us, I realize it’s not at all what I want. Not for our daughter.

“You—”

“Leave him alone, Reid,” Taryn says, rubbing my arm with her other hand.

“He’s just punishing himself!” I say, whipping my head to look at her. “He’s punishing himself and for no reason!”

“Let him heal,”she says through the mindlink, her eyes glassy.“Let him heal like you’re letting your dad heal. He’ll come around.”

I blow out a sigh and shake my head, gritting my teeth together, but I let it go. Because she’s right. Pushing him now will only make it worse. He needs to see for himself that he’s wrong. Me yelling at him won’t change his mind.

“We respect your decision,” Taryn says, turning her eyes on him. “And if you ever change your mind, we’ll respect that decision, too.”

He nods, his thumb rubbing at his lower eyelids. “Thank you.”

“Do you still have your phone?” she asks.

“King Malachi ordered me a new one.”

She nods, then holds her hand out to me, asking for mine.

Fuck. I still need to buy her a new phone.

I yank mine out of my jeans and hand it to her. Her lips twitch and her brows raise, her eyes sliding to me as she glimpses the picture on my lock screen, the picture Seb took of the two of us when we had our accidental sleepover. She gives me a subtle shake of her head and an eye roll, then taps away at my phone, sending off a scan of Sour Patch’s ultrasound image to what I assume is Dominic’s number.

“We’ll send you pictures of her as she grows,” Taryn says, handing me my phone as Dominic’s pings in his pocket. “You don’t ever have to contact her if you don’t want to, but you should at least get to watch her grow up.”

He takes his phone out and unlocks it, staring at the screen, his eyes watering until the tears are uncontainable and they spill over the edge of his eyelids.

Taryn swallows and stands, walking to the door, and I follow her, my hand moving to the small of her back, my body positioned so I can protect her at a moment’s notice. Dominic’s phone clatters on the table, and I turn to look at him. The last thing I see before the door closes is Dominic with his head in his hands again, his shoulders shaking and his body trembling with silent sobs.

Chapter 62

TARYN

SEVENMONTHSLATER—JULY 21st

After a grueling twenty-two hours of labor, our Sour Patch was born at home at 4:31 a.m. on July 21st.

Reid was the perfect partner and father through my entire pregnancy and birth. He brought me breakfast in bed when I was too exhausted to get up, and he held my hair back on the rare occasion morning sickness hit me. He put together every piece of furniture in the nursery and the cradle that now sits in the sitting area of our room. He held my hand and coached me through every contraction, rubbing my back and caressing my belly, sending me every ounce of love he has for me as I worked my ass off to deliver our pup.

And now, he’s standing in front of the window, framed by the light from the early morning sun. He holds our sleeping daughter in his arms, his face ducked close to hers as he tells her about Crescent Lake, about the moon goddess, and about all the things he’s going to teach her as she grows up. I relax against the feather pillows, with a smile on my face and light in my heart as I watch him turn into mush with our hours-old baby girl. Her dark tufts of downy curls peek out from the top of her pink swaddle, and Reid kisses the top of her head, pressing his nose into the curls to breathe in her scent.

My wolf pushes forward, perked up by his display of affection and possession of our pup, of his physical manifestation of the verbal promise he made to me all those months ago when he learned I was pregnant—that he would love this pup as if it were his own.

And he does.

I smile and his eyes lift to meet mine, bright and joyful, and still bearing the evidence of the tears he shed when she entered this world with a sharp wail, making her presence known without hesitation. “You should sleep too,” he says, making his way over to me. “You deserve the rest. I can wake you up when she needs to eat.”

“I’m sure I’ll hear her,” I say, chuckling.

He perches on the mattress next to me, and I sit up and rest my chin on his shoulder, peeking at our bundle of joy in his arms. Her lashes rest on her perfect chubby cheeks, and her tiny lips form an adorable little bow. I breathe in, taking in Reid’s Christmas and cookie scent, and her sweet springtime blossom scent.

“I wonder if she’ll like cookies,” Reid muses, still smiling down at her.

“With you as her father? It would be a crime if she didn’t.”

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