“Your career?”
I shrugged. “If the filming is done in the States, we have a house there. If I’m not working, we’re here. Easy.” I teased her stomach with my fingers. “You know how I feel about this, Shelby. As soon as our first child comes, I’m sticking close to home. I don’t want to miss a moment of you being pregnant or miss watching them grow up. I want all the milestones, from conception onward.”
She started to talk, but I silenced her with my mouth, pressing a kiss to her full lips. “My choice, Shelby. I choose us. I choose you. Every. Single. Time.” I drew back, caressing her cheek, but my tone serious. “You are my world now. Please tell me you know that.”
She nodded. “Sometimes, I think I’m dreaming.”
I winked as I kissed her again. “There are times when I’ll piss you off, and I’m sure you’ll think you’re having a nightmare.”
Giggling, she wrinkled her nose at me. Unable to resist, I kissed the end of it, making her giggle again. I loved hearing that sound.
Her hand covered mine that was still resting on her stomach. “What if we just made a baby?” she asked.
My smile was wide. “Nothing would make me happier. We’ll simply fast-track our plans.”
“You’re amazing,” she whispered. “I’m the luckiest woman in the world.”
She gasped as I laid her on the bed and hovered over her. “I’m the lucky one. You are everything to me. Everything.”
I kissed her with all the adoration I was feeling.
“I love you, Beaker.”
Her smile lit up the room.
And my heart.
“I love you, Oscar.”EpilogueLiamWe did make a baby that night. Or one day the next week. Shelby bought more than one kilt, and she wore them a lot. I wore mine too, so we were both in a frenzy most of the week, it seemed. Either way, by the time we arrived back in the States, Shelby was well and truly pregnant. And as usual, I was blind.
Shelby seemed a bit off and tired. I was crazy wrapping up the movie with Douglas, doing last minute-reshoots and making sure everything was complete before we left. When the words “It’s a wrap,” finally left Douglas’s mouth, I was grateful to head home.
The house was quiet when I walked in. It seemed strange. No Shelby music, no off-key singing in the kitchen. No Mum. She had been here when I left yesterday, planning on keeping Shelby company as we did a few overnight retakes, then finished off the day.
Had she left without telling me?
I found Shelby in bed, propped against the headboard, a book open on her lap and her sexy glasses perched on her nose. I tried not to show my surprise.
It was only eight, and Shelby was in bed? She was wearing a thick wrap, and I could see the edge of lace peeking out from a long sleeve under it so she wasn’t planning any sexy times.
So, why was she in bed?
“Where’s Mum?” I asked.
“She went to Douglas’s. She and Caroline had plans.”
I frowned. “You weren’t included?”
“I wasn’t feeling up to it.”
Now, I was concerned. I approached the bed. “All right there, Beaker? Should I call in a doctor?” I scratched my head. “It’s early to be in bed.”
She smiled. “I’m tired.”
I sat, reaching for her hand. “My point exactly. You’re never in bed at eight.”
“I’ve never been pregnant before.”
I was about to reply, but the words dried up in my mouth. My grip on her hand tightened.
“Preg-pregnant?” I swallowed. “Are ye sure, lass?”
She laughed. “Oh dear, you’re channeling your mum. She was so excited, she could barely talk.”
I shook my head to clear it, then moved closer. “You’re carrying my baby, Shelby?” I laid my hand on her flat stomach. “In here?”
“It tends to work best there, yes,” she replied, her eyes twinkling.
For a moment, I was struck dumb.
Shelby was pregnant.
I was going to be a dad.
Talking about it, planning it, making flippant remarks about it—none of it was real. It was a thought, an image—an idea. None of it prepared me for this moment.
For the surge of joy.
The instant worry and wonder.
The insane terror of the idea that I was going to be responsible for a child.
A baby.
My baby.
I stood and let out a whoop. I danced a fast jig. I lunged forward and kissed Shelby’s sweet, smiling mouth—hard. I cupped her cheeks and rambled incessantly, promising to be a good dad. I dropped to my knees, pushing away the blanket and shawl, kissing her stomach, and talking to the small being inside.
My being. Our being. The one we made with our love.
Then I gathered Shelby in my arms and held her.
My family encompassed in my grip.
I held my entire world at that very moment, and I shed my own happy tears, which mixed with Shelby’s.
I was ecstatic.