Page 179 of Closer

She winks, turning back to her baking. I settle against the counter, simply watching her work with ease. The way she moves around the kitchen, the little furrow between her brows as she concentrates, the way she mouths along to the lyrics of the song… I could watch her forever and never get bored.

“Take a picture. It’ll last longer,” she says without looking up.

“Don’t mind if I do.” I pull out my phone, snapping a candid photo of her pouring batter into the muffin tins.

She rolls her eyes, but I catch the pleased flush on her cheeks. My girl secretly loves the attention, no matter how much she pretends otherwise. She sets the bowl down, a slip of paper fluttering to the ground. Lil snatches it up lightning quick, shoving it into her back pocket.

I raise an eyebrow. “What was that?”

“Nothing.” She busies herself with the muffin tins, not meeting my eyes.

Oh, it’s definitely something. I sidle up next to her, bumping her hip with mine. “Didn’t look like nothing.”

She bites her lip, peeking up at me through her lashes. There’s a mix of excitement and nervousness swimming in her eyes. “It’s… I was going to wait until after dinner to tell you.”

I still. “Tell me what?”

She slowly pulls the paper from her pocket. It’s not paper at all. It’s a small photograph, glossy and black and white and—

Fuck.

I pluck it from her fingers, my hand trembling slightly as I bring it closer to examine the grainy image. “Is this…?”

“I’m pregnant.”

Pregnant. Lil is pregnant. We’re having a baby.

A baby.

I examine the sonogram, the tiny little blob that’s supposedly our kid. Our son or daughter. Fuck, I can’t wrap my head around it.

“Sebastian?” Lil’s voice wavers. “Please say something.”

I tear my eyes away from the picture to look at her. She’s gnawing on her bottom lip, tears shimmering in her eyes. She’s scared. Of my reaction? As if I could ever be anything but fucking ecstatic about this.

I toss the sonogram on the counter and yank her into my arms, crushing her to my chest. A shuddering laugh escapes me, and I bury my face in her hair. “We’re having a baby.”

She clings to me as tightly, a sob catching in her throat. “Yeah.We are.”

I pull back far enough to frame her face with my hands, my thumbs brushing away the tears slipping down her cheeks. “You’re pregnant.”

A wobbly smile breaks across her face. “I am. About six weeks, according to the doctor.”

Six weeks. I do the mental math. That night after the gala, when we couldn’t keep our hands off each other…

“Say something,” she whispers. “Tell me what you’re thinking.”

I shake my head, a grin stretching my cheeks. “I’m thinking that I’ve never been happier in my entire life.”

Her breath hitches. “Yeah?”

“Fuck yeah.” I draw her into a kiss, plundering her mouth. A kiss I pour every ounce of joy, of love, of pure fucking wonder into. This woman, this incredible, amazing, gorgeous woman, is carrying my child. Our child.

I’m going to be a dad.

The thought simultaneously thrills and terrifies me. Am I ready for this? Are we ready? Fuck, I don’t know. But I do know that there’s no one else I’d rather figure it out with than her.

We break apart, both of us breathing hard. Lil rests her forehead against mine, her fingers playing with the hair at the nape of my neck. “I only found out this morning, and I didn’t know how you’d react. If you’d be happy or upset or—”

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