Page 134 of Strike the Match
A heartbeat, then two, and Weston’s jaw drops as his eyes travel from my eyes to my stomach, then he scoops me up in his arms and hugs me to him, combat-booted feet dangling in the air.
“When?” he asks, lips to my ear.
“My guess is that day on the motorbike,” I tell him.
“My little Ninja baby,” he croons.
“We are not naming our baby Ninja.”
“No,” he says. “I have the perfect name.”
Pulling my head back so I can look at him eye to eye, I watch.
“Axle. Axle Billie Grady.”
My eyes spring a leak again. “That is kind of perfect,” I admit.
He puts me down gently, lowering me until my feet touch the ground, and I bring one of his hands to my stomach, intertwined with mine over my dress.
“You are already so loved, Axle,” I whisper to my growing belly. “Your whole family can’t wait to meet you.”
Weston leans down, and though he speaks quietly, like my ears are tuned to his frequency I catch his words.
“You’re going to be our best adventure yet.”
