Page 65 of Uxpectedly Ever After

“True.” She sighs. “I love you. Noble and I both do.”

Damn if those three words don’t still slam into with all the force of an earthquake every time.

I reach over and lay my free hand on her belly, feeling my son shift. Every time he moves around in there, it's like I turn into the Grinch and my heart grows three sizes. Nothing else hits like that feeling.

“Love you too, Freckles. Both of you.”

We pull onto our street, the glow from the dash lighting her face, eyes half-shut with exhaustion, one hand resting over our son. Six months ago, I was sleeping on her tiny-ass futon, making coffee in her kitchen, pretending not to stare at her in those sleep shorts that drove me fucking wild. Back then, I thought we'd go our separate ways once my apartment was fixed. That we’d keep living in denial of how we felt about each other.

Now I know better. We were always heading here—to this baby, this house, this life. And in three weeks, I’m making her mine, officially and forever. Not bad for a guy who used to run from the word “commitment" like it was on fire.

It hits me like a lightning bolt—that perfect clarity that only comes a few times in life. I pull the truck into our driveway and kill the engine, but neither of us moves to get out.

"You know," I say, breaking the thick, comfortable quiet, "I think we were inevitable, you and me."

She cracks an eye open, mouth curving into a wicked little grin. “Inevitable? That’s a big word for a firefighter.”

“Smartass.” I reach over to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear. "But yeah, inevitable. Like gravity or the tide or some shit. You can fight it all you want, but some forces in the universe will always win.”

Clover rolls her eyes, but her expression is gentle. “So the universe conspired to push us together? That it?”

"I think," I say slowly, choosing my words carefully because I need her to understand this, "that from the first moment I saw you rolling your eyes at your brother across that party, there was never going to be another ending for me. Every choice, every road was always going to lead right back to you."

She’s silent for a beat, and in the faint light, I catch the shimmer of tears. "That's either the most romantic thing I've ever heard or the biggest load of bullshit."

I chuckle, because that's my girl—refusing to be swept away even when I'm baring my soul. "Why not both? The universe shoved us together, and I bullshitted you into loving me.”

She gives me her heart-stopping smile, the one that I’d do anything for. "The thing is, Banks," she says, her voice suddenly serious, "I think you might be right. No matter how hard I tried to fight it, somehow we were always meant to end up here. Together. Even when it made no sense."

I capture her hand and bring it to my lips. “Of course I’m right. You’ll learn soon enough—I’m always right.”

She tilts her head back and does the best thing in the world…

She laughs.

Three months later…

"You are never, ever touching me again, you fucking asshole!"

Clover's grip on my hand tightens like a goddamn vise as another contraction hits her. Her face contorts, a sheen of sweat covering her forehead as she bears down, then collapses back against the hospital bed, panting.

"You're doing amazing, baby," I tell her, brushing damp strands of hair off her face. "You're the strongest person I've ever met."

"Don't sweet-talk me right now," she growls, but she refuses to let go of my hand. "This is your fault. You and your stupid dick. I hate you so much."

Reed coughs as he tries to hide his laugh, and I flip him off with my other hand.

I bite back my own grin because laughing right now would probably get me murdered. "I know, Freckles. You can hate me all you want as long as you keep pushing."

It's been eighteen hours since Clover's water broke in the middle of the night, and I got the call at the station that it was time. Eighteen hours of watching the woman I love fight through pain I can't even imagine. Eighteen hours of feeling completely fucking helpless and doing my best to be her rock at the same time.

At least Reed’s here. Crazy how far we’ve come from me wanting to punch him at that first ultrasound. Now he’s the guy who shows up with weird basketball stats and embarrasses himself after a few beers—but there’s nobody I trust more with Clover and our baby.

Reed moves between Clover’s legs, professional mode fully engaged. It’s almost comforting how he morphs from our awkward friend to the confident doctor the second he steps into his role.

“You’re at ten centimeters, Clover,” he tells her with an encouraging nod. “Time to push with the next contraction. You ready to meet this baby?”

Clover nods, her grip on my hand tightening even more.

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