Page 44 of The Mountain Man's Mail-Order Wife
“I called Brooke earlier, invited her to dinner, and asked her to pick up a pregnancy test for you to take.”
“Oh. Really?” She’s grinning. “I had the same idea.”
“You did?”
“Yes. She must have thought it was really strange we both called her for the same thing.”
“You already took it?” Disappointment flashes through me.
“No. But I’m sure.” She lets go of me and waves her hands around. “I’ve got all these symptoms, and I was researchingthem in-between customers and well, I’ll still do the test but I don’t need to. I’m definitely pregnant. Or dying.”
“You are not dying. I did not take a bullet and survive for you to die on me.”
Grinning, she pushes to her toes and presses her mouth to mine. “I promise I’m not dying. I’m doing the opposite,” she says against my lips. “I’m making a baby.Ourbaby.”
“I love you more than anything. You make me happy, but I think that happy just got better.”
“Yes, it did. We’re going to have a baby!” She does a little shimmy thing with her hips that has my cock hardening.
“Riley?”
“Hmm…”
“What time is Uncle Granger getting here?”
“Not for another hour. And Brooke will be thirty minutes later than him.”
“Wife,” I growl. “It’s time to celebrate our new life. The one we’re building and the one you’re growing.”
“We are not making love, Felix. You’re still recover?—”
I scoop her against me. “I’m recovered.” To emphasize my point, I press my hard length into her stomach.
“Oh.”
“Yes. But because I know you’ll worry, you can do all the work.”
“I can?”
The hope in her eyes has me grinning. The one and only night we were together, the night we made our child, she mentioned wanting to try being on top next time. Something I was eager to learn about. And who am I to hold my wife back?
“Time to learn to ride.”
RILEY
EIGHT MONTHS LATER…
Having a baby is a gift. A privilege. A special experience.
And damn fucking hard!
Of course I would marry a man well over six feet with muscles for days. Common sense would conclude his offspring would be big.
And I’m not.
According to the nurse who helped us when we arrived at the Winter Lake medical center, I’m smaller than average for a grown woman. I didn’t like the way she looked at me or Felix when she asked how old I am.
Twenty-one is not young. Although it’s not old either.
