Page 78 of Rockstar's Accidental Marriage

“All the time,” I admit.

She raises an eyebrow. “Really? You don’t strike me as the planning type.”

I chuckle. “You’re right. But this is different.”

“How so?”

I stop walking, gently pulling her to a halt beside me. “Because now I have something—well, someone—to plan for.” My gaze drops to her belly, where our child is growing, and then back to her face. “You. The baby. It changes everything.”

Her eyes glisten, and she bites her lip, looking down at our joined hands. “I guess I’m just scared. What if we mess it all up?”

“We won’t,” I say firmly, tilting her chin up so she has to look at me. “I mean, how bad could we be?” I joke. Then, suddenly serious, I reach out, brushing the back of my fingers down her soft cheek. “We’ll figure it out, Cupcake–together.”

For a moment, she just stares at me, her expression unreadable. Then she nods, a small, tentative smile curving her lips.

“I’m glad I have you,” she whispers.

“Damn right, you are,” I reply arrogantly, earning a soft laugh from her.

We continue walking until the last rays of sunlight disappear, replaced by the moon's silvery glow. By the time we head back to the house, the tension that has been weighing on both of us feels a little lighter.

The next morning comes too quickly, the sunlight streaming through the curtains nudging me awake. I roll over, expecting to find Emily still curled up beside me, but the spot where she should be is empty. The sheets still holding her warmth; I miss her instantly. The sound of her humming downstairs draws me like a magnet.

Throwing on some boxers, I make my way to the kitchen to find her standing by the stove, softly humming as she flips pancakes.

“Morning,” I say, leaning against the doorway.

She turns, her smile bright. “Morning. I figured we should eat before the appointment.”

“You didn’t have to cook,” I say, moving to wrap my arms around her waist.

“I wanted to,” she replies, leaning into my touch.

We eat quickly, the conversation light and easy, and then head out to the doctor’s office. The drive is quiet, both of us lost in our own thoughts. But I can tell Emily’s slightly nervous—she keeps fiddling with the hem of her shirt as she gazes worriedly out the truck window as everything blurs past.

“Hey,” I say, reaching over to squeeze her hand. “I thought we settled this last time. You have nothing to worry about. Everything’s going to be fine.”

She nods, but her smile is tight.

The appointment is brief but emotional.

“Healthy and right on track,” the doctor says, glancing between us.

Emily exhales a shaky breath, her grip on my hand tightening. “Thank you, doctor,” she whispers.

Back in the car, she’s quieter than usual, and her eyes have a faraway look to them.

“Penny for your thoughts?” I ask as we pull out of the parking lot.

She glances at me, her expression soft. “I’m just... happy and relieved that everything seems fine with the baby. Nervous but happy.”

“According to the doctor, everything’s a go,” I say, reassuringly leaning over to wrap my arm around her shoulders tightly, pulling her against my side.

Emily rests her head on my shoulder, her fingers laced with mine.

“Sam, have you picked out any baby names?” she asks softly.

Startled, I just look at her for a moment. “Uh. No. I mean–we have six more months to think of a name. Shouldn’t we wait to see if it's a boy or a girl before we try to name it?”

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