Page 174 of Mission Shift

We all raised our glasses except for Angel.

She set hers back down. It hadn’t been touched. She carefully brought a hand to her stomach. Her fingers curled there, soft and intentional.

Conan’s gaze lingered on her a moment while we all absorbed the implication.

“Well,” she said, her voice quieter than usual, “there’s one more secret.”

Every head snapped her way. Even the dogs froze. No one breathed.

Conan blinked, his brow furrowed. “What?”

She faced Conan a little more, her cheeks coloring. “You know how I had an IUD?”

He nodded slowly.

“Well…it was time to get it replaced. But it had started to embed. The doctor didn’t know if it was a result of the wreck or if it had just happened. She couldn’t do the swap right away, so she removed the old and scheduled a follow-up.”

Angel licked her lips and looked around the room before locking back in on Conan. “I didn’t think anything of it.” She chewed on her bottom lip, seeming hesitant to speak. “I didn’t think it would be possible, especially with the injury the IUD caused. And with how insane life’s been lately, I wasn’t sure…so I took a couple of tests.” With a rush of breath, she blurted out, “I’m pregnant.”

It landed like a bomb.

Conan’s mouth dropped open. Then he laughed—just one burst, short and disbelieving.

Angel put a shaky hand on his leg. “I’m so sorry—”

But she didn’t get to finish.

Conan was already up, already scooping her into his arms, bridal-style. He spun her around.

“Oh my God!” he shouted. “I’m gonna be a dad!”

Then he froze mid-spin.

“Oh my God,” he said again, this time in a whisper. His face changed. His voice cracked.

He settled Angel onto the sofa with a quiet kind of reverence and kneeled at her feet. He cradled her face in his palms, clinging to her like he couldn’t breathe without the contact.

“I love you, Angel,” he said, tears welling in his eyes.

“Are you sure you’re not mad?” she asked. “We aren’t even married. I don’t want you to feel like I’m pressuring you into anything.”

“We can get married tomorrow at the courthouse. Or wait a year and throw some insane, overpriced wedding. Or never get married. I don’t care. Just…let me love you. Let me love our kid.”

His voice thickened. “That’s all I want—to be a good dad, the kind of father I never had, a parent who’s involved in every aspect of our child’s life, from skinned knees to grandkids. I want him to never question if he’s loved, Angel. I want to be the dad who coaches him in Little League and helps him figure out high school algebra.”

Anastasia let out a breathless laugh. “What if it’s a girl?”

Conan’s face went pale. “Oh, fuck,” he muttered and clutched his chest dramatically. “I could be a girl dad… I’ll never be able to sleep. She won’t be allowed to date until she’s thirty.”

That broke the tension. Everyone burst into laughter. Samantha reached for Angel’s hand and squealed. Sam and Daria launched into interrogation mode instantly, firing off questions: How far along did she think she was? How had she been feeling? Did she want to know the baby’s gender? How did she plan to decorate the baby’s room? And on and on.

Atticus and I exchanged a look. He shook his head and smiled.

“You’re so doomed if the baby is a little girl,” I told Conan. “God help the guy who makes her cry.”

“Oh, I’ll help him,” Atticus added. “Help him into a grave.”

Samantha giggled. “That kid is going to be loud. There’s no version of Conan’s child that isn’t loud.”

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