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His eyes widen. “Why not?”
Here goes nothing.
I suck in a deep, fortifying breath filled with his scent and that of the wonderful books that surround us. “Because one of the things I forgot to bring with me, that I didn’t even think about, with everything that was going on, was my birth control.”
His entire body stiffens, his hand tightening on my cheek, and his eyes narrow on me. “You’re not—”
I give him a sharp little nod, not even able to say the words.
“Are you sure?”
My heart stalls, tears threatening to fall as panic takes hold. “Yes. When we went back to my place to get the rest of my stuff, that’s when I realized I hadn’t refilled the prescription. And I panicked. I called my doctor while you were helping move my boxes out to the truck.”
His eyes flare wide. “That’s why you went to the doctor? It wasn’t just your annual checkup?”
I shake my head. “No, it wasn’t.”
My hand trembles as I reach into the side pocket of my leggings and pull out the ultrasound picture. “This was why. She said, based on my bloodwork and the exam, it likely happened around that day…of course, they can’t know exactly, but…”
He staggers back a step, his hand falling away and his entire body shaking as he stares at the grainy black-and-white picture.
This is exactly why I was afraid of telling him.
This reaction.
The Beast never wanted a family, never wanted to be a father, never wanted this family curse to get passed on to anyone else. And he certainly doesn’t want a screaming baby and diaper duty at fifty-five years old.
“Weston, I’m sorry. It’s my fault—”
His eyes flick up from the picture to meet mine. “Why are you apologizing?”
“Because I didn’t plan on this. I wasn’t—”
He’s on me so quickly that I can’t even finish my sentence, ripping the picture from my hand and backing me against the table into the same position he had me in on our first night together.
His free hand tunnels in my hair, cradling the back of my head, and he stares down at me, his eyes flashing hot the same way they always do when The Beast comes out to play. “You don’t apologize to me for this, Beauty. This”—he holds up the picture in his other hand—“is the greatest thing that’s ever happened to me next to you showing up and running from me in those woods.”
“It is? But I thought—”
He silences me with a kiss so potent that it’s like he’s trying to pour all of his emotion into this singular act.
And I feel it, deep in my core, that he means those words, that he truly is happy and wants this.
By the time he tears his mouth from mine, I’m panting, my body throbbing for him and ready just like it always is. “So, you’re not worried about having a baby?”
He raises a silver brow. “With you?”
“Yes. I mean, it’s going to change everything…”
A slow grin spreads across his lips. “You already have changed everything, Beauty. You’ve changed my entire life. You’ve taken me from a desperate, cursed man living with the dead to one who finally has something to actually live for.” His eye drifts to the ultrasound in his hand. “Two things, now.”
He swallows slowly, his Adam’s apple bobbing, and his gaze darkens again.
“But I don’t know the first thing about being a father, so you’re going to have to help me. I never had a very good role model in that respect.”
The pain in his words slices at my heart.
Weston really got screwed over in the parent department, and visions of Dad and how great he was, how much he cared for me, what a perfect father he was right up until the day all this went down flash through my head.
