Total pages in book: 18
Estimated words: 15704 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 79(@200wpm)___ 63(@250wpm)___ 52(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 15704 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 79(@200wpm)___ 63(@250wpm)___ 52(@300wpm)
But I wasn’t walking away. I never would. Harbor was the love of my life, and nothing short of death would make me lose her.
I stepped into the bathroom, chuckling at the sight of her documenting week eleven of her pregnancy, her body turned sideways so she could snap a picture in the mirror. I grabbed the phone from her, making her scowl at me.
“Just turn to the side, baby, and I’ll get the picture for you.” I wasn’t normally home on the days she did these—was usually at work since I got up before her, even on the days she had to work, too. But since I was home today, I would take the picture for her—share in this moment with her, even if I was still trying to sort out my own feelings.
She beamed at me and turned sideways, resting her hands under her baby bump. She liked to tell me it was just bloating, but I refused to believe her. Her belly was just the tiniest bit harder than her normal softness.
I noticed everything about her, and this woman refused to remember that. Or believe it, really.
“You almost ready to head out for your appointment?” I asked her once the picture was taken and I had handed her back her phone.
She blew out a soft breath and tugged her t-shirt over her head. “I’m nervous. Is it weird I’m nervous?”
I rested my hand on her lower back and leaned down to press a kiss just beneath her ear. “It’s not weird, baby. You’re going to be nervous, Har. Hell, even I’m fucking nervous.”
She laughed a little. “You’ve been nervous since we found out about the pregnancy, Elliot,” she teased.
I shrugged. She wasn’t wrong; there was no sense in even trying to deny it.
She turned to face me and rested her hands on my hips, leaning her head back so her eyes could connect with mine. “I love you,” she murmured. My chest filled with warmth at her tenderly spoken words. “And I know how crazy this is. We’ve barely been dating. Barely knew each other before I got knocked up. But I do know I love you, Elliot. And I know you will be an amazing father.”
She leaned up and pressed her lips to mine. I groaned and deepened the kiss, backing her up against the bathroom counter. A low moan crawled up her throat as her arms wound around my torso, her lips opening beneath my assault.
When we parted, we were both panting, and my dick was as hard as a rock. Too bad we didn’t have time for me to sink inside of her for a quickie.
“If we didn’t have to go for this ultrasound,” I rasped, reaching up to rub the pad of my thumb over her kiss-swollen bottom lip, “I’d toss you on that bed and fuck you so stupid, you couldn’t remember your name.”
Her eyes heated with lust, and her fingers clenched the fabric of my shirt. “Fuck,” she croaked.
Fuck was right. I kissed her again—quick and hard—before I forced myself to step back, putting space between us. She watched as I readjusted my cock in my jeans before she slipped out of the bathroom, sliding her feet into her flip-flops.
“Ready?” she asked.
I grunted, and she laughed, the sound like music to my ears. I grabbed her hand in mine and linked our fingers together before I led her out to the truck, helping her into the passenger seat before I shut her door and crossed around to the driver’s side.
Feeling my unease as I pulled out of her driveway, she reached over and grabbed my hand in hers, linking our fingers together. I gave it a gentle squeeze in thanks.
The intimacy in our simplest touches had a way of settling my soul that nothing else could ever even hope of doing.
Not a damn thing in the world could have prepared me for the sight of our baby on that screen. My hand trembled in Harbor’s as I stared at the grainy black and white image. It still looked a bit like an alien—kind of like a jelly bean with a head, really—but it was ours.
Our baby. Our little munchkin.
My heart had been taken over by Harbor from the moment I met her, but the second our baby popped up on that screen, she was forced to make room for it.
There was no more confusion for me. No more mixed feelings. No more unease.
Protectiveness slid through my veins, rivaling the protectiveness I felt for its mother. I wanted to nurture it. Love it. Hold it in my arms and guard it against all of the bad things in this world.
“Oh, my God,” Harbor croaked, her voice filled with tears. I squeezed her hand before looking down at her. She sobbed, her free hand covering her mouth. “That’s our baby, Elliot.”