Page 108 of Puck Princess

I’m not sure I’m ready to let go of the fantasy of it all just yet.

“Could you not tell us and put it in an envelope?” I ask.

The doctor gives me a two-fingered salute. “You got it.”

“A surprise. I love it.” Owen wags his brows. Somehow, his eyes are smiling. Like happiness is bubbling out of him.

Whatever this slice of magic is, I want to hold onto it for as long as possible.

The doctor gets started, and Owen and I are both enraptured by the screen. It’s the same black and white muddle, except this time, it’s much easier to tell what’s what. We smile and laugh and gasp as we recognize things.

“There’s a hand!” Owen points.

“And the nose.” I cover my mouth, overcome by cuteness.

“He’s sucking his thumb,” Owen laughs.

The OB looks at him with a quirked smile. “He, huh?”

Owen shrugs. “I have my theories.”

After the scan is over and we have a new photo to take home, she hands me a towel to clean my stomach.

“Everything looks great, Callie. Strong heartbeat, everything growing exactly as we’d hope. Y’all are going to do amazing. I’m not worried at all.”

Once she leaves, I hop off the table and adjust my red dress. It has a high waistline that distracts from my bump and does wonders for my ever-growing chest. Owen takes notice, studying me in the reflection of the full-length mirror.

I’m only wearing the dress because I have plans with Kennedy tonight. I bailed on our plans last night, claiming to be sick—which wasn’t entirely untrue; my run in with Rodger Santos left me nauseous all day—but now it’s time to pay the piper. The way Owen is watching me, though, I have half a mind to call it off again. She’d understand if I told her I had an incurable case of horniness, wouldn’t she?

“What if I don’t go out with Kennedy tonight?”

“She’d be pissed. And why wouldn’t you go?” He comes up behind me and wraps his arms around me. “You look great.”

He slides his hands down my hips, and I sink back against his chest.

“I don’t know. I kind of want to go home with you.”

Accidentally—or on purpose, I’ll never tell—I shift my hips back against him. Owen exhales against my neck. His expression in the mirror is suddenly darker, focused. “Callie,” he warns.

I give him wide, innocent doe eyes. “Yes?”

“Kennedy has been texting me for the last week, telling me I’m being selfish with you. Don’t put me in this position?”

I turn in his arms, my fingers laced behind his neck. “Which position are you thinking of?”

He growls, melding our lower bodies together until I can feel exactly what this is doing to him. Every second we stay like this, the likelihood of him taking me on the exam table gets higher.

Then there’s a knock on the door. We spring apart half a second before the nurse peeks her head in. “The doctor said to give you this. She said to open it whenever you decide the time is right.”

She hands me an envelope, and I suddenly know what it’s like to hold your entire future in your hands.

“Our baby’s gender is in there?” Owen asks.

“I think so.” I smile, rubbing my thumb gingerly over the seal. “See? Look how exciting this is. I think we should go home, open this, and then celebrate with?—”

“Don’t even think about it.” He holds me at arm’s length like I’m a wild animal. “I’m driving you to dinner with your cousin. You’re going to get some kind of virgin cocktail, order a charcuterie board, and listen to Kennedy complain about Lance. It’s going to be good for you.”

I pout, but Owen settles his hands on my bump. “And then, when you get home, I’m going to make you pay for giving me a hard on at the doctor’s office.”

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