Page 133 of Cold Hard Truth

Lyla holds out the tarot card, and I take it.

“I want you to do your tattoo thing with it.” She waves her hand around.

“My tattoo thing.” I grin at her.

“You know, make it look unique and cool. That thing you do. You know what I’m talking about.”

I do, but it’s still cute watching her ramble and try to explain it to me.

“The Empress?”

“Yep.” She smiles big, looking at me with those eyes that tell me I should be reading something into this. “Pulled it this morning.”

“You pulled it this morning and you already want a tattoo of it?” Leaning back in my chair, I look her over. “Means that much to you, huh?”

“Well…” She starts digging through her purse again. “You know I believe in the cards, but yes, I hear you. And for this, I did think you’d need a little more proof.”

“For this?” My eyebrows pinch when she pauses on something in her purse and glances up at me.

Lyla pulls out a white stick and holds it out. It takes me a moment to process what I’m looking at. But she must realize when I do because her smile grows as my eyes widen.

I snatch the pregnancy test from her hand and look down at a bright plus sign on it.

“You’re pregnant?”

“Apparently.” She’s smiling and nodding; the sun might as well be beaming from her eyes. “The cards never lie. How many times do I have to tell you that before you’ll believe me?”

“The cards?” I’m at a loss trying to process what she’s talking about. “You’re pregnant, and you didn’t walk in here starting with this.”

I grab her thighs and pull her down the chair toward me so her legs straddle my hips.

Wrapping my arms around her waist, I pull her closer. “You’re fucking pregnant?”

She nods, snaking her arms around my neck. “I am, Daddy.”

“Fuck…” I plant my mouth on hers and drown in the moan. “You fucking kill me.”

She melts to me. Her lips move like silk over mine. Her tongue skims my lower lip and it’s heaven on earth.

“You realize I’m not tattooing you when you’re pregnant, right?”

“So youareturning me down again?” She grins against my mouth.

“I am. And you’re not talking me into it this time.”

“I know.” She hugs me, burying her face in the nook of my neck. “You can tattoo that on me later. We have our whole lives for that.”

Our whole lives.

Something about those words coming from Lyla makes them bigger. The girl who sees the future—whoismy future. Who is growing a future beyond us inside her.

She’s my destiny.

My phone rings, and I groan as Lyla pulls away from the kiss.

“Better get that, VP.”

“Careful.” I nip at her lip. “You know how much I like that.”

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