Savage (Wolf Ranch 4)

I frowned at the change of subject.

“Avocados?”

Smiling, she sat up, and I got a front row view of her gorgeous body. I was going to like those full tits. My mouth watered to suck on them some more, but my woman was hungry, and I would take care of her needs. All of them.

“I’ve got some wild cravings.”

“Don’t have any avocados or anything else here, but we can go pick up whatever food you’re craving. Me? I’ve got a craving, too. Your pussy.” I lowered my hand to cup her, to feel my cum still slipping from her.

“Oh,” she said, and I lifted my gaze to her face.

“I… I have a doctor’s appointment at ten. Ultrasound.”

My eyes widened, and my hand stilled. “To see the baby?”

She laughed. “Yes, we can even learn the sex. Do you want to know what we’re having?”

We. She’d said it not once but twice. This was our baby now.

12

BECKY

A girl. Holy fuck, we were having a girl. I’d thought of the baby inside of me as a peanut, not as a boy or girl. But now? I saw a mental pink explosion. I stared down at the ultrasound image in my lap. We were in Clint’s truck, and he sat in the driver’s seat staring out the window. I’d never seen anyone go pale like he had when the tech had told us what we were having.

He’d dropped into a chair as he stared at the monitor with our baby on it. It looked like a black and white alien inside a big black circle. It had a big head, legs and arms. It was our baby, who didn’t have a penis. Which meant she was a girl.

A girl!

All Clint had said since the announcement was fuck over and over.

I bit my lip and glanced at him. He was in big trouble if he was freaking out about having a girl now. He hadn’t seen more than an ultrasound of her. When she came, he was going to lose his shit. I doubted he would let anyone near her. He was going to be a protective bear. God, when she started dating… I wondered how many shotguns he owned.

He also had lots of male friends. Big, brawny cowboys who lived on a ranch, who were the overprotective sort. Audrey and Boyd had decided to let the sex of their baby be a surprise, so Boyd wasn’t losing his shit like Clint was. Yet. If they had a girl though…

“I’d like to see the foal,” I said, trying to snap him out of his thoughts. Maybe it would distract him. Maybe, or maybe he’d be catatonic until she went to college.

I hadn’t been sick all morning, and it was almost lunchtime, and I still felt fine. I didn’t dare hope I was past the morning sickness in general, but I could take a moment to appreciate my calm stomach. I felt almost human.

“Fuck,” Clint whispered, his gaze still affixed at the road.

“How old is it?” I asked, wondering after the age of the foal.

He didn’t reply.

“I’m thinking of having sex with the college football team after lunch.”

He blinked. That hadn’t gotten through either. “Fuck.”

I tried not to smile. I really did. “I’m not wearing any panties.”

He blinked again, this time looking my way. “What?”

“Have you heard anything I’ve said since you found out what we’re having? Do you even remember walking to your truck?”

He ran a hand over his face. “Fuck.”

I laughed. “Clint. A girl’s not scary.”

His lips thinned. “A girl is fragile. We should have a boy first who can protect her.”

“First?” When he didn’t respond, I went on. “Not all girls are fragile. Some are tomboys who like to ride horses and catch frogs.”

“Not by herself she won’t,” he countered.

I rolled my eyes.

“Did you roll your eyes at me, woman?”

I rolled them again.

“Wait until my parents hear about this,” he muttered. “My mother’s going to be cooking you her lasagna every day.”

My stomach grumbled at that.

He glanced down at my belly although it was well hidden beneath my coat. He might not have even remembered, but he’d zipped it up for me in the medical center lobby. “Hungry, sugar?”

“Me and our girl want some of that lasagna. Think your parents will like me?”

He took off his hat and sat it on my head. Grinned. “Like you? They’re going to forget I’m even in the room when we show up. Let’s go surprise them with the news.” He turned the truck on then muttered, “Fuck.”

CLINT

I’d called my mother from the car, asking her if I could bring a friend for lunch and if she’d put one of her famous lasagnas in the oven. There was usually one ready to go in the fridge for some pack function at all times since it was Rob’s favorite dish—the alpha—so I knew I wouldn’t be putting her out. Especially when she learned of the reason for the spontaneous visit.