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“It’s okay.” She lifts one hand to my cheek. “I was afraid this would bring everything back for you. That you’d think I was going to leave too.”

“You’re not scared?” I ask.

“I’m fucking terrified.” Blair lets out a watery laugh. “This is the most terrifying, amazing thing that’s ever happened to me.”

My eyes burn as everything finally hits me.

Blair is pregnant.

We made a baby.

I’m going to be a dad again.

“You’re having my fucking baby.” The words break as tears spill down my face.

“Yes.” Blair laughs through her own tears. “I think we’ve established that.”

“You’re having my fucking baby!”

I grab her and lift her off the floor, kissing her over and over until she laughs and winces at the same time.

“Ribs, Dean.”

“Shit.” I immediately lower her back onto the couch. “Sorry, baby.”

Blair cups my face and pulls me down until our foreheads meet.

“You’re really happy?”

“So fucking happy.” I kiss her softly. “I love you the most, Blair Morgan.”

“I love you too, Dean.”

I place my hand carefully over her stomach.

Our baby.

Holy fucking shit.

Forty Eight

Blair

Dean’s hand slides along my waist, and I flinch before I can stop myself, sucking in a sharp breath.

He freezes immediately.

“Ribs?” he asks, lifting his hand away.

“A little.”

Dean starts to pull away from me completely, but I catch his wrist.

“Don’t.”

“Blair,” he warns, his expression tightening.

“I’m sore, Dean. I’m not made of glass.”