Page 137 of Implode

“Oh!” she screams, lifting her head up. “Yes!” Her hands fly up into the air, waving them around like flags of victory. “A million times yes!”

I pick us both up and pull the ring back out, sliding it onto her finger. “You were meant to wear diamonds, baby. You look spectacular in them.”

“I love it, Nic. Thank you.”

I smile down at my girl and pull out my unicorn selfie stick from my side pocket, showing it to her. “Let’s capture this memory,” I say, locking my phone into the device.

“You’re having way too much fun with this gift I got you.”

“It’s pretty life changing.”

“You goof,” she laughs, as I keep snapping pictures of us, even though she’s not looking in ninety percent of them.

That’s the thing with Claire. Every angle is a good one.

When the excitement settles, I reach into my back pocket and pull out an envelope. “Now that I have your promise to never leave me, let’s find out whether the start of our journey will be bumpy or smooth.”

Claire’s eyes widen when she reads the return address in the upper lefthand corner of the envelope, knowing exactly what is inside. I turn her so we are both looking out at the sun barely visible over the horizon. It shines onto the water, almost blinding us. With arms wrapped around her midsection, I tear through the secured flap and pull out the trifold document. Opening it up, I start to cry.

“It is with 99.9998% certainty that…” My voice gets stuck in my throat, and I stop reading.

“Youare the father,” Claire finishes, twisting in my arms to squeeze hers around me so hard that I worry she will hurt herself in the process.

“Oh baby, this”—I wipe at the tears flowing down my cheeks—“is the greatest gift you could have given me. I’m not only going to be a daddy but this baby’s father. I get to be both.” I am awestruck with the news as every single nerve in my body ignites with excitement.I am going to be a father.

Claire looks up to the sky and whispers, “Thank you.” And I couldn’t agree more.

Thank you.

* * *

I wake to the smell of something baking. I reach over to feel for Claire, and when I am left with just cold sheets in my hands, my eyes pop open. With a glance at my phone, I see that it is barely seven in the morning.

So much has happened since first arriving in Florida, but waking up this early has not been the norm.

Where is my girl?

Surely I tuckered her out enough last night to want to sleep in while we still can. Once the baby arrives, I imagine our entire routine will then be dictated by the tiny gummy bear.

I roll out of bed, slip on a pair of gray jogging pants, and go off in search of my fiancée.

Thinking of Claire as my future bride feels a bit weird for my head to comprehend. Our relationship has had so many ups and downs that getting to this happy state we are both living in makes every day feel like a celebration. She gives me a new purpose, and her love restores the pain of the past and all of the mistakes I have made with her.

I follow the smell into the kitchen and see the back of my sexy girl dressed in the navy and white cheerleading outfit I have been begging her to wear ever since I learned she used to cheer. It is probably the only good thing that has come from her trip back to Virginia, and my eyes are having a feast just watching her do her thing.

Claire is looking out through the wall of glass at the ocean, while stirring a huge metal bowl with a spatula. The oven light is on, and I can see the rise of what looks to be cupcakes. Damn. Can she look any sexier?

I sneak up behind her and place my hand over hers with the spatula, taking over the stirring. I kiss her neck. She has her hair piled high up on top of her head with a huge white bow.

She is a freaking wet dream turned reality.

“Hmm, I was trying to surprise you,” she says softly. “I am making you vanilla cupcakes. Just working on the vanilla frosting. You do have a thing for vanilla, right?”

“I have a thing for you,” I say with a grunt, feeling my cock come to life over how short her outfit is.

Claire’s legs are toned and tanned. If she bends over just a tad, I bet I can see the curve of her lush ass cheeks. I wonder if she is wearing any panties. I better check.

I squat down just enough to run my hand from her knee to the top of her thigh. My fingers search for the fabric where her panties should be located, coming up empty-handed.

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