Total pages in book: 86
Estimated words: 81182 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 406(@200wpm)___ 325(@250wpm)___ 271(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 81182 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 406(@200wpm)___ 325(@250wpm)___ 271(@300wpm)
“You’ll still see Star and Douglas from time to time when you go back to work.”
She tips her head back to look at me. “You’re okay with me traveling again?”
I drag in a breath. “I don’t love the idea, but I’m going to suck it up, because I know it’s something you love. You just gotta promise me you’ll stop when it becomes too much.”
“Can I tell you something?” she asks, lacing her fingers with mine, and I jerk up my chin.
“I’ve been thinking about it and don’t know if I want to fly again—or at least not right now.”
“Why?”
“Well, this crazy guy I met on a flight kind of took over my whole life, and I don’t like the idea of being away from him any more than he likes the idea of me being far away.”
“Baby,” I whisper, releasing her hand so I can cup her jaw. “Don’t quit doing something you love, because of me.”
“I’m not. I’m just going to take a break for a while. I’ll find something else to do to keep busy, but I want to be home at night, and flying is exhausting, and I’m already exhausted. I don’t want to take any chances.”
“Whatever you want, even if that’s to stay home with him.”
“Or her,” she says as I rest my hand on her stomach.
“Or her,” I agree, smiling.
“You know…” She rests the side of her head against my chest. “I’m starting to think that even if I hadn’t called you when I was in Ibiza, we still would have crossed paths at some point.”
“Because your cousin is married to one of Tucker’s brothers?” The news surprised us both when we found out yesterday about the connection.
“Yeah.”
“We were inevitable, baby. I would have tracked you down eventually, even without that connection,” I whisper against her ear, and she peeks up at me through her lashes.
“You would have, wouldn’t you?” she asks, and I don’t answer with words. I cup her jaw and cover her mouth with mine. When I pull back from the kiss and her lashes flutter open, I drag my thumb across her bottom lip.
I don’t know what I did to deserve her, and Lord knows I probably don’t, but I’d give up everything as long as I knew I’d get to keep her in the end.
epilogue
HANNA
You know in books, those scenes when a woman sees a hot guy with a baby, and she talks about her ovaries exploding? I always assumed that was an exaggeration, because I’ve seen lots of men with babies, and never once did I experience anything close to that.
But then Axton St. James came into this world at nine pounds ten ounces, and the moment I witnessed my husband hold him in his arms, I knew that if we weren’t careful, I would end up pregnant over and over again. Because there is nothing hotter in this world than Walker taking care of our baby boy.
And obviously, the proof that I wasn’t careful enough with that knowledge is sitting right in front of me in the form of a plastic stick, the word Pregnant in black lettering filling its screen. Glancing up at myself in the mirror, I bite my bottom lip, then close my eyes and remind myself I already knew I was pregnant. The test just confirmed it.
A week ago, I started feeling sick. Not “I have a cold or the flu” sick, but “I’m going to hurl as soon as I wake up” sick, which isn’t something I ever experienced before. For a few days, I was able to convince myself I was imagining the symptom, and I brushed it off as just nausea from the previous day’s dinner.
But this morning, I went to the restroom, looked at myself in the mirror, and noticed my nipples, which are much more sensitive, have also gotten darker. And since I don’t breastfeed, I knew it wasn’t because of that. Plus, I remember clearly Walker noticing the difference not long after we found out I was pregnant with Axton. Dragging in a deep breath, I pick up the test and open the bathroom door.
Padding down the hall, through the kitchen, and into the living room, I glance out the doors that lead to the pool that is integrated in the middle of the house, between this room and the master bedroom. The closed-in space is why I fell in love with this house. Not because of the pool—but because filled with plants and flowers, it feels like a tropical oasis, and I love being able to sit out there and read especially in the evening when it’s dark and the twinkle lights Walker zigzagged across the open roof are on.
When I spot my husband through the leaves, I fight the urge to swoon at the sight of him and Axton, who just turned five months old a few days ago, in the water sitting right at Walker’s hip level. Sliding open the door, I step outside, and heat rushes at me, causing my nose to scrunch in response.