But I think it’s part of reminding myself this isn’t a defined thing, and I don’t live here, but that might be about to change, one way or the other.
Oliver answers in seconds, pulling the door open, preoccupied as he pulls off oven mitts from those big bulky hands that have choked out insurgents. Yet he uses them to bake now, instead of hiring a chef like any other man of his wealth and stature.
Screw it, I smile. It’s the little things like that keeping him humble.
Human.
Endearing.
And he’s so very human then as he starts to reach for me—then stops.
He’s got this freaky perception, this way of knowing me that I find so disconcerting, telling him without a word off my tongue that something’s wrong.
Or is it actually very, very right?
I don’t know yet.
I’ll tell you when this conversation’s over.
His hands fall to his sides, slowly turning into fists.
“Fuchsia…what happened?” Then his brows draw together. “Did Durham—”
It’s just a testament to our line of work that he immediately assumes Durham hurt me somehow, and there’s a decent chance he wouldn’t be wrong.
But before he can work himself up into a ragey lather with nowhere for that anger to go, I bite the bullet.
“I’m pregnant,” I blurt out. “And I’m keeping it.”
Right there. Boom.
No bones about it. No deflections. No preamble.
It’s practically an ultimatum.
No coincidence I’m frozen on the threshold to his place, that weird barrier between in and out separating us from each other. Threatening to define what this thing we’ve shared forever is or isn’t.
Because I can’t stand to be in his space if that info means he’s going to shut me right back out.
I wait for the inevitable Are you sure it’s mine? then denial, resignation, fatalism.
Instead, he smiles.
I blink. Several times just to make sure I’m not hallucinating.
Oliver Major gives me the biggest, goofiest lopsided grin I’ve ever seen, and this man is twelve years older than I am and has no right to be smiling like that with the news I just dropped on his head.
What. Is. Going. On?
He’s still wearing it. Like a little boy who just got everything he wants for Christmas, his eyes light up as he stares at me breathlessly.
“You—you are? You—we are?”
It’s his we that almost breaks me.
I’m trying to be stoic and cold, but when he says that…
My eyes burn, my lips tremble, my throat closes, and I just nod, biting back a whimper in the back of my throat.
And he comes sweeping out into the hallway to wrap me up in the safe harbor of those large, strong, deliciously inked arms, throwing me against him and dragging me back into the light-filled spaces of his condo.
Dragging me into his world, with a firmness that says he wants to keep me there no matter how I might try to banish myself to the shadows.
“God, Fuchsia,” he growls out, burying his face in my shoulder. “We’re…we’re gonna have a baby. A kid.”
I try to hide, pressing my face into his chest so no one has to see the wet tracks running down my cheeks in warm trails.
“Yeah,” I whisper. “Seems like we are.”
“Shit. I never thought I could ask you for anything like that, never, I…are you upset, woman? We weren’t careful enough, we weren’t—”
“No.” I shake my head firmly, laying my hand on his chest, just over his heart. “I never even thought I could do something like this, but now? I want it. I want it, I want this, I want…”
My eyes pinch shut. Here comes my last bit of bravery.
“Oliver, I want us.”
And I want a chance to have normal things.
A life with a man I love where we get to raise our children, and maybe the scariest thing to worry over is what school they go to.
I want a chance to be more than a brutal asset owned by a ruthless corporation with no heart of my own.
Oliver grips my shoulders then, drawing back to look down at me with his heart in his eyes, so bright there might be stars swirling in his honey-brown hue.
“You can have us, wildcat,” he says hoarsely, so much emotion in his thick voice. “If you want me, I’m yours. Both of you—I belong to you and that little baby in you. And I promise you we’ll find a way out of this where our family can be safe. Fuck Galentron.”
The last two words come out so fierce they make me shudder.
Still, I smile at his bold, stupid rush of bravery.
And that other word?
Family.
It hits me on the head like a grand piano dropping out of the sky.
Holy crap. I’m…we’re about to have a family.
And I’ve never known what that word even means.
I feel like my heart is breaking, and I don’t know how that can feel good. I’ve spent so long repressing my emotions, but suddenly they’re all erupting on the surface, and I’m crumpling, sagging in Oliver’s arms.