Her words dig deep down into the places that rarely get paid attention to these days: the goddamn abyss where the demons from my childhood live. The ones that used to rule my life until Rylee came along using her fucking perfection and selfless love to help brighten that darkness, and chase away the doubt that occasionally rears its bitch of an ugly head.
I lean back to make sure this woman who means the whole goddamn world to me really is okay. Because if she isn’t, I’ll do whatever it takes to make sure she is. When she bites her bottom lip, smiles and nods she’s fine, I smooth my thumb over the indent her teeth just left, before trying to lighten the suddenly serious moment. “You scared me for a minute. I thought you were upset about the prospect of sixty-nining, and that would mean I’d be in a whole world of hurt with this death-do-us-part thing since I kind of like when I get to do that with you.”
“You perform that number exceptionally well, so no, that number stays in play,” she says with a cute wink. She bites the inside of her cheek and eyes the third and final cookie in my hand before flicking her gaze back up to mine.
Thank fuck for that, but there is something most definitely off with her. “Here,” I say as I hold out the last fortune cookie, hoping to make whatever wrong I’ve done, right.
“No. You open it.” She shoves it back toward me, smile back in place. “It’s the tie-breaker.”
When I try to make her take the cookie, she just pushes it into my hands and scoots back. “Sex before food, sex before food,” I chant and we both chuckle. But my laugh dies off when I read the fortune, and try to make sense of it. “OVbunEN.”
What the fuck? I read it again before I look up to meet Ry’s eyes. The sight of her—tears welling, that smile so goddamn big on those perfect lips—knocks the breath out of me. And, suddenly, it all clicks into place.
It’s like everything is moving in slow motion—thoughts, breath, vision—everything except for my heart. Because it’s pounding like a fucking freight train as I glance back down to the jumbled words on the paper, before looking back up to her.
There’s no fucking way.
Can’t be.
“Really?” I ask. I don’t even recognize the awed disbelief in my voice as I ask about the one thing I thought we’d never get another chance at again.
The first tear slips over and slides down her cheek as we stare at each other, but this one doesn’t make me panic like they usually do.
“Really,” she whispers.
Disbelief turns into the best fucking reality. Ever.
OVbunEN.
Bun in the oven.
“You’re pregnant?” I can’t even believe the words I’m saying as I pull her toward me, and onto my lap.
She can’t get the words out to tell me yes so she just nods her head as tears fall, and her arms cling to me. And fuck, her hands digging into my back feel incredible because I don’t think I’ve ever felt closer to her. Not even when I’m in her.
I have one hand on her neck and the other on her lower back. Air’s not even welcome in the space between us as we hold on to each other on this patio where so many firsts have happened for us. Telling me here of all places makes perfect fucking sense, now.
My face is buried in the curve of her neck. And if I thought my heart and soul had been lost to her before, I was so fucking wrong it’s not even funny. Right now, in this moment, I’ve never felt more connected to her. My fucking Rylee.
My mind flickers back over the years of agonizing fertility treatments when emotions ran high, and hope always gave way to heartbreaking disappointment. When we finally acknowledged last year that having a baby the traditional way was never going to happen for us, Rylee lost herself for a bit. Fuck yes, it put a strain on our marriage, but it was more devastating for me to watch the woman I love more than my own soul slip away day by day, bit by bit, and not be able to do a goddamn thing about it.
The helpless feelings I had during that time can take a hike.
When I lean back and move my trembling hands to her face, I don’t think she’s ever been more beautiful than in this moment: eyes alive, lips in a glowing smile, and a tiny part of us growing inside her.
“We’re gonna have a baby,” she whispers. And although I already know it, hearing her say it causes my breath to catch and my heart to summersault. “June ninth.”
Six. Nine.
Fuckin’ A.
We finally crossed the finish line we thought we’d never reach.
Six months later
“I WAS A LITTLE WORRIED when you told me to come over today that you’d lost control of your balls, but this?” Becks asks, as he takes a measured look at the empty beach around us. “This is just what the doctor ordered.”
“Where’s the faith, brother?” I slide a glance over to him behind my sunglasses. “Can you see me at a baby shower?” I ask. He snorts in response. “I assure you my balls are firmly attached. There is no way in hell I’m setting foot anywhere near the house right now.” I mock-shiver at the thought of all those women who’d gladly leave lipstick on my cheek.
“A whole new definition for the estrogen vortex.”
“Damn straight.” I reach over and tap the neck of my beer against his. “And not in a good way.”
“And for that reason alone, I think the baby’s a girl,” he says with a laugh, causing me to grunt at his logic. “Dude, you’ve played women for so damn long, it’d be funny as fuck and serve you right to watch one play you for the rest of your life.” He holds up his pinkie telling me if we had a little girl, I’ll be wrapped around her finger. Fucker’s probably right, but I’m not telling him that. Besides, the smarmy grin on his face is wide enough to earn the bottle top I throw at him.