The Pact (Winslow Brothers 2)

I spin on my heels and come face-to-face with the one person, the only person, I want to see right now—Flynn.

“W-what are you doing here?”

“We don’t have much time, babe,” he says, and in a matter of seconds, my feet are off the ground and I’m in his arms, cradled close to his chest. Across the street and into an empty alleyway, Flynn doesn’t set me on my feet until we’re completely alone.

“I’m calling in my IOU.”

My head jerks back. “What?”

“The night we got married, you said you owed me, and whenever I wanted to call it in, I just needed to tell you. Well, I’m calling it in now.”

Normally, I’m not the quiet one in our conversations, but right now, that’s exactly what I am.

“I don’t want you to leave, Daisy. I want you to stay and make a real go of this with me. And quite frankly, I think you owe me the chance to try.”

He wants me to stay?

“You want to try to make a real go of it with me?” I repeat back, my whole body shaking with the overwhelmingly relieving feeling of my adrenaline crashing. I’m not going to have to fight at life alone anymore?

“More than anything I’ve ever wanted,” he says and takes both of my hands into his. “You make me better, Daisy.”

But will he still want that when he finds out the truth? That our lives are going to be a lot more complicated than a couple of raging horndog fake spouses?

“I don’t want to go back to my quiet life without you. I don’t want to do anything without you. I—”

The urge to tell him everything, to lay it all out on the table, is too strong, and without thinking, I blurt out the words right in the middle of him talking.

“I’m pregnant!” I exclaim just as Flynn finishes with, “love you.”

Holy hell, he loves me? He loves me?!

“I love you too!” I shout at the same time he asks, “You’re pregnant?”

Tears threaten and a giggle bursts uninvited from deep, deep in my chest. For once in my life, I’m going to shut up and let someone else do the talking. Flynn deserves that. Flynn deserves everything.

“You’re pregnant?” Flynn repeats again, this time on an awed whisper.

I nod, and emotion floods my eyes for what feels like a million reasons. Worry, happiness, elation, concern, fear, it’s a kaleidoscope of feelings rushing through my veins.

“You’re pregnant,” he states this time, as if he needs to hear the words out loud for himself.

“Yes,” I answer, and the need to give him an explanation—to assure him I haven’t been hiding this—is too strong to deny. I can’t be quiet anymore. “But I didn’t know until last night. After I left The Penrose. The doctor who did my physical called me, and yeah, even though I didn’t really believe her, it only took a two-hundred-dollar trip to Walgreens and a gallon of Sunny Delight for me to comprehend that I am, in fact, pregnant. Apparently, seven to eight weeks along.”

“My baby is inside you,” he says and reaches out to gently place his left hand—the one that still showcases his gold wedding band—onto my stomach. “Right there. That’s our baby.”

I nod, and the tenderness of his touch allows the relief of tears to spill down my cheeks. “Yes. That’s our baby.”

“A life-long contract we can’t deny,” he says and lifts me into his arms. “You’re staying. With me. Forever. I’m going to love you both with everything I have.” He presses his lips to mine, and all the fear and anxiety that are spilling out from my eyes and down my cheeks turn to pure happiness.

“You’re my wife, Daisy. The one and only woman I want to spend the rest of forever with,” he whispers against my mouth. “Hell, you’ve been my wife all along, even when I was too dense to realize it.”

“Even when I was telling myself that this was all just a fake marriage,” I say quietly and lean back to search the depths of my husband’s eyes. “Deep down, I knew it was real, Flynn. I don’t want anyone else. Just you.”

He kisses me again, but this time, it’s fiercer, more passionate, and it’s not long before my legs are wrapping around his waist and my fingers find their way into the thick tresses of his dark hair.

“God, I’ve missed this. I’ve missed you,” he says between kisses. “I know it’s only been ten-fucking-hours, but I can tell you it’s been the longest ten hours of my life. I spent last night walking all over this fucking city, checking far too many hotels trying to find you.”

I lean back and meet his eyes again. “Why didn’t you call me?”

“I did, on and off the whole damn night,” he answers and presses a trail of kisses down my cheek and against my neck. “But it just kept going to voice mail.”