Page 68 of Puck Princess

Callie spits out a laugh.

“But don’t worry,” the woman tells me. “You’ll settle into it. All you have to do is love them and the rest sorts itself out.”

Well, I can do that.

I already love our baby—whatever or whoever it may be. The moment I saw the ultrasound, I knew I wanted this. If that’s all it takes, I’m set.

“I am just here with my daughter. It’s her third, and she’s in the bathroom right now, sick as a dog. I better go check on her.”

The woman wanders off, but my gears are spinning. I turn to Callie, brows furrowed. “Wait. You were crazy sick the first time the team flew, and you said you hated flying. Was that motion sickness or morning sickness?”

Callie is all wide-eyed innocence, but the curl at the corners of her mouth tells the truth.

I shake my head. “Jesus.”

“If I got motion sick, I’d be miserable every time you drive.”

I shoot her a look, formulating plans to make her pay for that sassy comment. But she’s beaming up at me, proud of herself for giving me shit. And the same certainty I felt a second ago when the woman was talking about love sorting everything out settles over me again.

“Callie?”

She’s still chuckling to herself. “Hmm?”

“I’m not going anywhere,” I say softly. I grab her hand and trace my thumb over her knuckles. “I’m going to be here for the baby and you. For us. I’m not going anywhere.”

She searches my face for the words I’m not saying, but her eyes full of warmth and… something else. I think she might say it—what we’re both thinking. But then she just cups my cheek in her palm.

“Thank you, Owen.” She leans in.

I press my forehead to hers, and we sink into another kiss. This time, I don’t care who’s watching.

23

CALLIE

“I don’t understand why I can’t go.” Kennedy is full on pouting behind me as I sift through my closet looking for something—anything—I can wear to a nightclub. Preferably something that makes me look less like a pregnant person at a nightclub.

“Because if you go, you’ll kill Spencer. And I think that might put a damper on his dad’s new club opening.”

“It’ll be dark in there. If he just happens to trip and hit his head on the corner of a high top or maybe his drink is loaded with more than just tequila, no one has any reason to suspect it was me. Anyway, why do you get to go? You want to kill him, too.”

I decide on a black cocktail dress that is more flowy than fitted, though I’m sure it will still be tight around the middle. Hopefully Kennedy is right and it’ll be dark.

“Well,Ihave self-control. Also, someone needs to make sure Owen doesn’t kill Spencer, and I can’t babysit both of you.” I hold up the dress. “What about this?”

“Try it on. Let’s find out.” As she helps me squeeze into the dress, she carries on lamenting about how lame it is that I get to go out while she has to stay home. The only reason I don’t respond is because I’m panting from the effort of zipping the damn thing up.

Once the deed is finally done, I put my hand on the small protrusion of my stomach. It’s barely noticeable. Then I look higher and my eyes widen.

Kennedy notices the same thing and bites back a smile. “Well, hello nurse. Your tits look phenomenal. Damn.”

My bras haven’t been fitting super well recently, either. Now, we know why.

I pick through the closet for my low black heels. Minus the peep show up top, I look more like I’m going to dinner at a country club than a nightclub, but that’s okay by me.

Kennedy throws herself back on the bed dramatically, arms starfished out to either side. “I hope you and your tits have a nice day. I’ll just be here, wasting away.”

I’d feel bad if I wasn’t so terrified of what Kennedy plus Spencer plus alcohol would look like. She brings out the worst in him, and I hope to never see his worst again. No matter how bummed she is, this is for the best.

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