Page 91 of Big Daddy

My lips curve into a private smile as he presses his lips to my throat repeatedly. “I only started noticing a few weeks ago, butI’ve technically had this condition for six weeks. Maybe a few more.”

Big Daddy pulls back, his eyes searching mine. “What’s wrong?” The panic in his voice sends a wiggle of delight through my belly. Not because I like seeing him panicked but because I know I get to squash the panic and replace it with something good. So, so good.

I tip my head to the drawer next to me and move my leg to give him access to it. “Why don’t you open the drawer and find out for yourself.”

He eyes me cautiously, completely unsuspecting because men are men, and reaches for the drawer. I keep my eyes on his face, watching his expression as he surveys the contents. His eyes go back and forth from the pregnancy tests to me a few times.

“Winnie,” he breathes, low and slow. Bumps break out along my arms and neck, and my eyes fill.

“Big Daddy.” I smile, letting a tear fall. “We’re pregnant.”

“Winnie,” he repeats, his eyes flitting between mine, nostrils flaring. “Oh my God.”

Wrapping his arms around me, I wrap mine around him, and we embrace slowly, tenderly. He strokes his fingers through my hair, lips pressed to my ear as he says, “I love you, and I can’t wait to do this with you.”

I’m blaming this baby for the tears, but his sweet words open the floodgate. He holds me in the bathroom, sitting at the sink, and we don’t come out for an hour, but it’s the most private, perfect, beautiful hour we’ve spent together. We share hopes, whisper sweet things, and bask in the love we’ve found together.

It sounds corny but I don’t care. I’ll be corny and blissfully happy any day of the week.

“Hey,” Big Daddy says, breaking through our silent spell of bliss. “You and Brielle will get to experience pregnancy together.”

I roll my eyes playfully. “Duh, I already thought of that.”

“It will be… unifying.” He smiles. “And you get to tell her. She’s gonna be excited, Win.”

I nod. “I know.”

Big Daddy wraps a curl around his finger and tugs gently, letting it spring free. “I can’t wait.”

“To tell Brielle?”

He shrugs, his posture suddenly relaxed, his expression passively happy. “That. Watching you grow our child, actually having the baby. Getting you pregnant again and again, playing good cop-bad cop with you when they’re older, all of it. I can’t wait.”

We kiss again, and Big Daddy puts his hand on my belly. “Thank you,” I whisper, “for everything but mostly for being an asshole who aggravated me enough to make me want to stomp down to your office and repay you. If you weren’t such a big thoughtful jerk, I never would’ve fallen in love.”

He smiles, rare and gorgeous. “You’re welcome.”

chapter twenty-nine

quincey

Two monthslater

There has never been a clinical term for anything that has aroused me until Winnie got pregnant.

At the very first doctor’s appointment we attended after discovering she was pregnant, we found out an approximate time of conception. Looking at the calendar, it was one of the times—if not the first time—we made love. We shared that information with the doctor and post labs and physical check, the doctor called Winnie fertile.

Fertile.

That word bricks me up. That word gets me rock fucking hard when I hear it and it is not a sexy word. At all. Fertile. Yet knowing my woman’s womb is the warm, fruitful holy land for my cum? Fuck me. I cannot stop seeing her in my mind when I’m on work calls or in meetings, the word “fertile” echoing through my mind as I imagine her on her back, legs spread, body open and willing.

“Mr. Parker?” Kennedy calls out, tearing me from my day dream. Jesus Christ, I’ve got zero business daydreaming inmeetings with eight-figure clients. Pinching the bridge of my nose, I apologize, adding, “Can’t shake this headache.”

Lies.

Can’t seem to shake these filthy fucking thoughts about my pregnant girlfriend is more like.

“I’ll step out for painkillers?” she offers, but Pen comes through, getting to his feet, working the suit button at his gut.

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