Claim My Baby (Crescent Cove 2)

“Yeah, well, I’m sure the same will be said about yours. Now get your ass down here before our guests disperse.”

“They aren’t going to disperse. They traveled cross-country for this.”

God bless their souls.

“Yes, but there are many distractions. Keno. Poker. Slot machines galore. Mucho alcohol. Celine Dion. Do you think Ally and I can still get tickets while we’re here?”

“No, I heard she was sold out forever. Bye.” I clicked off on him while he was still sputtering.

I went directly to the dry-cleaning bag I’d had delivered the last time we were out and unzipped it, making sure the pale pink gown I’d ordered for Sage was inside and not some outfit befitting a showgirl.

Which reminded me of when Sage had dressed as Lola, the showgirl from the Manilow song for Halloween, and I’d made fun of her mercilessly.

Ah, the memories. I wondered if she still had that costume. I bet we could find some creative uses for it that didn’t involve trick-or-treating.

I gave her five more minutes to soak. Then I knocked on the door and stepped inside. She was standing in front of the mirror, drying her belly with the towel.

Without thinking, I dropped to my knees in front of her and pressed a kiss to her stomach, closing my eyes as the baby kicked against my cheek.

My heart kicked too, one rough, hard jolt.

“She knows her daddy’s touch,” Sage murmured, stroking my hair. Soothing me without words.

We didn’t need them.

I kissed her belly again in the same spot and fumbled for Sage’s hand, bringing it against my other cheek.

“Our entire life started in this hotel suite.”

“Nah,” she said after a moment, still running her fingers through my hair. “We started long before here. This was just the climax, so to speak.”

I didn’t laugh. “I want to marry you. Today. Not for propriety’s sake. Not for anyone’s sake but ours.” I tipped back my head and met her shocked eyes. “Every moment you’re not my wife feels wrong. As if a piece of me is missing.”

“But—” Then she stopped and shook her head. “Okay. Yes. Let’s. Where can we do it?”

I stood and gave her a quick, hard kiss, gripping her hand securely in mine. “Leave it all to me.”

I was dressed like the princess Oliver always called me.

He’d bought the dress I’d earmarked in a magazine, getting it in a pale pink that made my skin and eyes look vibrant—a minor feat this late in my pregnancy. The sweetheart neckline did wonders for my cleavage, the empire waist draped perfectly over my belly, and the soft material swished around my ankles as I walked. He’d even selected sparkly silver, chunky-heeled shoes to go with it. Regular heels would’ve been better, but neither of us wanted to take the chance of me falling. Grace was not my middle name.

It was Susie for my great-aunt, but who was keeping track?

I couldn’t believe all the trouble he’d gone to. Sure, some part of me was like, hey, you’re only getting one wedding, shouldn’t you have more agency? And um, hi, didn’t he do crap like this before?

No, and no. He chose the dress I loved, and he made my dream happen for me. He admitted he was more than a little concerned I would dump him in front of all our friends and family, but he’d done this because he wanted to be married to me now.

In front of our friends and family.

By Elvis. The guy he couldn’t stand.

Yeah, I had no complaints. As soon as he could walk without a limp, he was getting nailed again. Which was entirely for his benefit.

Ah, hell, I couldn’t lie on my wedding day.

Hi, my name is Sage, and I love sex. News at eleven.

“You’re sure I look okay?” I tugged at the side of the dress as we walked toward the Elvis chapel holding hands. So much different than the last time we’d visited it.