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I was nervous.
As nervous as I had been when I first admitted I had fallen for him. And my stomach twisted, ready to tell him we didn’t have to do this if he didn’t want it. If we were overstepping.
“Bash?” Em whispered.
Bash lifted his eyes, tears spilling down his cheeks. “You changed your names. For me?”
“We’re a family,” I choked out. “Now the whole world will know.” But I didn’t want him to think it was just because of rumors or potential scandals. “And more importantly, we all know.”
“Thank you,” he whispered, his fingers bruising my hips as he pulled me against him and reached for Em.
“We better go back out before everyone thinks we’re doing something in here—”
I put my finger on Em’s lips. “How about we do something in here and prove them right?”
“Alright, Savage.” Bash’s eyes flared as he licked his bottom lip. “Who gets our wife first?”
Em’s squeals were definitely loud enough for anyone walking by to hear. Bash grumbled about needing to be quieter.
But I just grinned, loving that they were both mine.
Epilogue
Emily
Five Years Later
“Mrs. Bardot, are you there?”
My fingers flexed around my phone. “Yes, sorry. I’m here.”
“We can’t do the surgery because the results of your pregnancy test were positive.”
“What?” I gripped the table and steadied my breathing. It didn’t matter if she said it seven more times. It would still take a while to sink in.
I was pregnant?
“You can reschedule the septoplasty after the baby is here.”
Baby.
My mouth went dry.
I thanked the nurse before she hurried to end our conversation, no doubt eager to finish her call list, instead of waiting for me to come to terms with the news. Slowly lowering myself into the chair, my hand hovered over my belly.
I was pregnant.
We had officially started our quest for a baby on our second wedding anniversary. After a year of monthly disappointment, we went to specialists. I knew in my heart it was something wrong with me. What were the odds of both Mac and Bash being infertile?
But all our tests came back great. On paper, we were healthy. Prime candidates to make a baby. Too bad our bodies didn’t know that. Another year of heartbreak passed in monthly increments before we stopped trying.
For the past twelve months, we’d agreed to let it go. Still, imagined scenarios of our future family would slip into conversation. Our parents eventually stopped asking, and we were semi-content to be auntie and uncles to Roxie’s children.
Even with a full life, I selfishly wanted more. Mac had no one blood related to him in his corner. Would a little girl spinning in front of him on the ice be what he needed to heal his heart? Or would a little boy that looked so much like him be a joy to raise and shower with the love he didn’t get?
My eyes filled as I thought of a little girl with Bash’s hair and intense eyes. She would bring so much joy to our lives. Or a little boy that looked identical to him, but laughed all the time and never questioned his place in my heart.
I blinked, tears spilling down my cheeks. That was the future I dreamed of. I had come to terms with being a family of three, but I ached for more. And now it was here.
