Page 109 of Deathtoll

“I’m taking you. I mean, can I take you?”

“Yes, please.”

“You weren’t sure if you wanted children. Are you okay with this? I thought you’d be more freaked out.”

“The day’s freak-out load is already pretty high. Maybe I just don’t have room for more today. It could still hit me. But I don’t think it will.”

She laid her palm over her still-flat belly. “I’m happy about the baby. I figured it out in the basement of the repair shop. Actually, Emma figured it out for me.” She smiled. “I wasn’t about to give up before that, but once I knew in my heart that this baby was real…” She shook her head. “I can’t explain it. The connection was instant. Limitless love and fierce protectiveness. A switch flipped. This baby is mine, and I’m going to protect my child, always.”

“You did. You escaped. You’re the bravest woman I’ve ever known.”

He brushed a kiss over her lips. He’d had a brief meeting with a large bottle of mouthwash at the doctor’s office, so he figured it was all right. “I guess we won’t know for a while if we’re having a boy or a girl.”

“We might find out tomorrow.” She brushed a kiss back. “The doctor mentioned an ultrasound.”

They grinned at each other like two lovesick fools.

Then her gaze dropped to the blood stain on his chest. “Now, honestly. How do you feel?”

“Like I’m the luckiest son of a bitch in the country.”

* * *

Kate

“I’d like to name her Ellie after my mother,” Kate said, pulling Murph farther into the room.

“I’m going to buy him one of those baby Jeeps.” Murph indicated the size with his hands.

Did they even have toy cars that big?

“That’s your first thought?” She laughed. “Boys and their toys.”

“Not my first thought. My first thought, now and always, is that I want you.”

The way his voice deepened and his gaze heated sent a delicious shiver down her spine. “I want you too. And I will have you, when you recover.” Soon please. She was desperate to have her hands on his body. “You’re in no shape right now,” she said, more to herself than to him, to bolster her self-restraint. “You’ve been hurt.”

“I’m fine.”

“You’re not fine. I—” She broke off when he took her hand and put it on the undeniable proof of just how fine he was. “We shouldn’t,” she finished weakly.

He raised an eyebrow. “Are you trying to tell me what I can and cannot do with my own body?”

A desperate laugh bubbled up her throat.

“But only if you’re sure you’re okay,” he told her. “You’ve been kidnapped. You’re pregnant.”

“At least I’m clean. I just took a shower.”

“I cleaned up at the doctor’s office, but I have to keep my stitches dry for a couple of days.”

“I could always give you a sponge bath.” Which might have sounded helpful and selfless, but really she just wanted to see him naked again.

“Definitely, yes. Later.” He maneuvered her to the nearest flat surface, the wall behind her. “I’m going to undress you now.”

“Then I’m going to undress you. I’ve never peeled you out of workman overalls before. It’s sexy. Like plumber porn.”

He narrowed his eyes at her. “What do you know about plumber porn?”