“No. I’m not signing.”
Damon dragged a hand through his hair. “It’s for the best.
We need a new start. I’ll get an accounting job to take care of Lilly, and you can keep teaching.”
Shaking her head, she bit her lip. “No. I’m not letting you lose it all to prove a point.”
“But I don’t care about any of it. I don’t want it. It’s done nothing but cause trouble.”
“We can change that,” she assured him. “We will. But, I’m not divorcing you. Not now. Not ever.”
He cleared his throat. His face flushed and his lips twitched upward. “Does that mean that you love me?”
“I love you,” she answered with a smile.
Whooping, he captured her in his arms and spun her about. Her empty stomach lurched in protest. Oh, God. Not now.
“I love you, too,” he murmured. He kissed her hard, his fingers threading in her hair.
She jerked out of his arms, bolting for the bathroom.
She barely made it to the toilet before her stomach revolted, emptying itself completely. He crouched beside her, holding her hair back while she retched. When she finished, she flushed the toilet and lay back against the tub.
Damon wet a washcloth and handed it to her, eyebrow raised. “Is my kiss that revolting?”
“Go get the box off of the bed in the other room,” she murmured, burying her face in the warm terrycloth.
“What box?”
“You’ll know when you see it,” she mumbled, shooing him away with one hand.
He reentered moments later, carrying a pink box. His eyes were wide, his face pale. “Are you…are you pregnant?”
She shot him a look, rolling her eyes. “I don’t know. I asked, but the box didn’t answer me yet.”
He chuckled, tearing it open enthusiastically. “Well, go on.”
She eyed him and took the foil wrapped stick from his fingers. “No offense, but get out. I’m not peeing in front of you.”
He opened his mouth—and promptly shut it when she glared at him. With a foolish grin, he strode out and shut the door behind him. She pulled herself to her feet.
“Are you done yet? What does it say?” he called through the door.
Closing her eyes and praying for patience, she answered, “I haven’t even gotten my shorts off yet. Relax.”
“Right. Sorry,” he mumbled. His footsteps paced back and forth outside the door.
Shaking her head and laughing, she got down to business, only calling him in once she was decently covered and the toilet flushed. Her heartbeat pounded in her ears as she studied the white window on the test. They both hovered over the stick. He sighed impatiently.
“Calm down,” she hissed.
“There are two lines!” he shouted, holding the box up in her face. “See? It says if there are two lines—”
“That I’m pregnant,” she finished, smiling. Her hands drifted down to her stomach. “I’m pregnant.”
“We’re having a baby,” he said with wonder. Picking her up, he hugged her tightly and buried his face in her neck. He kissed her reverently, as if she would break if he held her too hard.
He carried her into the bedroom, setting her down next to her food. “Feed our baby,” he commanded, grinning from ear to ear. “Wait until we tell Lilly. She’ll flip.”
“Does she like babies?”
“Oh, yeah. Loves them.”
Johanna grinned. She suspected she and Lilly would get along splendidly. “I can’t wait to meet her.”
“And I can’t wait for her to meet you.” He sat down next to her. “Just don’t go comparing stories behind my back. That never turns out well.”
“Would I do such a thing?”
He groaned and flopped onto his back. “Yes. I do believe you would.”
His forlorn expression was too much to resist. “Don’t worry. I’ll still love you if I find out you wet the bed until you were thirteen.”
He choked on a laugh. “Oh dear God. What have I done?
You’ll kill me yet.”
She shot him a heated glance. “I’ll be gentle…most of the time.”
His tortured groan filled the silence. “Yes. I’m a dead man.”
…
After she finished eating, Damon pulled her into his arms, cradling her close.
“I love you, Johanna,” he whispered, kissing her tentatively.
“I love you, too.” She tugged him closer, sealing her mouth to his.
He pulled away, gasping for air. “Maybe we should take it easy. I don’t want to hurt you.”
“You won’t. I’m pregnant, not dead.” She stroked his jaw.
He kissed her, caressing the side of her breast. Her heart faltered as she returned his kiss, her tongue gliding against his. He moaned, pulling her on top of him until she straddled his hips. She rotated her hips, teasing him. He broke free of the kiss, ripping her tank top over her head and tossing it across the room. His gaze fell on her bare br**sts, darkening with desire.
“God, you’re perfect,” he said and closed his lips around her nipple. She arched her back, whimpering. His hand massaged her other breast as he tortured her with his tongue and teeth, making her tremble for more.
He rolled her onto her back and tore her shorts off, undressing himself once she was naked. He kissed his way up her leg, finding her core and driving her insane with his tongue. He didn’t stop until she exploded with pleasure, the world freezing around her. Then, with a tormented growl, he plunged into her, throwing his head back when he entered her completely. She dug her fingers into his back as he brought her higher and higher, claiming her as his in every way. When he found his pleasure, she cried out, joining him.
They lay together, spent, wrapped in each other’s arms.
Their limbs tangled so thoroughly she could scarcely tell where he stopped and she began. Sighing in contentment, she traced a pattern on his chest. His hand rested on her stomach.
“Do you want a boy or a girl?” she asked.
“I don’t care. I’ll be happy with either.” His voice rumbled in her ear. “You?”
“The same,” she answered. “We should wait to find out until we have the baby. Let it be a surprise.”
He groaned. “No way. I need to know.”
She laughed. “You will…when it comes out.”
“Or when we go to the ultrasound,” he responded, tapping her nose.