Page 91 of The Biker and the Baker

I’m so weak in the knees I almost drop the darn thing. “Onyx…what are you…?”

“Live life with me, Pia,” he says in earnest. “Share it all with me. Laughs, tears, adventures, memories… Do it all with me.Marry me.”

As tears rush to distort my sight, I joke, “It’s not like I have a choice, do I?”

“A debt is a debt.”

“I love you so much,” I choke out. “Yes, Owen Walsh. I’ll do it all with you.”

A chorus of whoops and hollers gushes from the house as he straightens up, cups my face in between his loving hands, and crushes his lips to mine.

~

Later, much later, after an intense, noise-stifling round of ‘just got engaged and now it’s time to make a baby’ sex, Onyx places a gentle hand on my stomach and whispers, “This one’s a girl. I can feel it.”

Laughing, I send him an incredulous glance as I wipe sweat from my neck. “Slow your roll, lover boy. It doesn’t work that fast.”

“No, it doesn’t,” he agrees. “Butshe’sbeen baking for seven weeks now. What do you think of the name Starla?”

“What…” I push up on my elbows, my heartbeat barely back to its normal pace. “What are you going on about?”

Caressingly, he rubs his palm over my sweaty stomach. “You’re pregnant, Sweet P.”

My laugh is nervous, lacking confidence. “Um, I think I’d know if I was pregnant.”

“You do,” he says matter-of-factly, “but you don’t want to believe it because…you know.”

“You’re delusional.” I fall back on the bed and cover my face with both palms.

Have I seen my period recently? No.

Do I have an increased sense of smell? Yes.

Have I been throwing up from nausea? Yes.

Have I been rapidly losing weight like I did when I was pregnant withhim? Yes.

Have my hormones been out of whack? Yes.

Have I been ignoring it all out of fear? Yes.

I’m not pregnant, I’ve been telling myself.Bad days. I’ve just been having bad days.

But he knows me. He watches me. He studies me. He feeds on my energy like a vampire. He’s in my veins. In every crevice of my heart. So heknows. He knows the truth of whatI’vebeen telling myself is a lie.

I don’t realize I’m sobbing until he’s taking me in his arms and cocooning me in his embrace.

“I’m so scared,” I confess through body-wracking sobs.

“I know,” he whispers. “But our girl’s a fighter, like her mom. She’s gonna come outswinging. Just watch.”

“P-promise?”

He brushes sweat-dampened hair from my forehead and plants a kiss there. “Promise.”

~

Seven months later, I give birth to Starla Juniper Walsh, who came out swinging. Just like her daddy promised she would.