Page 103 of That: Taylor & Brooks

Joy. Pure, unexpected joy.

“I love you,” she whispered

Brooks pressed a kiss to the top of her head. “I know. Why else would you be having my baby?”

Taylor laughed, the sound watery but genuine. “Shut up.”

“Make me,” he challenged, pulling her closer and draping her arms around his neck. She tilted her face up to do just that. Their lips connected and they both sighed into each other’s mouth, finding harmony.

When they broke apart, Brooks kept her close, his expression turning thoughtful. “You know what this means, right?”

“What?”

“We probably made our love child in Denver.” His voice dropped lower, intimate and warm. “Let me take you back. Me and you, a hotel room, blinds drawn. You rest. I feed you and my baby. And we just bask in our new favorite place.”

“You’d do that for me?” Her eyes glistened with fresh tears, she was full of gratitude.

“I’d do anything for you.” He cupped her face gently, his thumb stroking her cheek. “You’re pregnant, Taylor. Your rest and wellbeing are the only things that matter to me right now.”

“Yes, please,” she whispered, her arms tightening around him. “Take me and our baby back to where it started.”

“Your wish is my command,” he promised, sealing it with another kiss.

As they stood there in his office, wrapped in each other’s arms, the world outside seemed to fade away. The nervousness that had plagued Taylor on her drive over was gone, replaced by a certainty. They’d be fine. Better than fine.

This wasn’t how she’d imagined her life unfolding, newly divorced, pregnant, rebuilding herself. But Brooks had appeared in her life like an answer to a prayer she hadn’t even known she was saying. She had no regrets.

“And you might as well tell that funky ass job to kiss your ass.”

The statement came so unexpectedly that Taylor pulled back, blinking up at him stifling a laugh.

“Brooks, stop. I want to work and why my job gotta be funky?”

“Because it is.” His jaw tightened, that protective instinct already kicking into overdrive. “And Imma be worried sick about you catching something and passing it to the baby. I’ll John Q that damn hospital, know dat.”

“Whoa calm down, Dadzilla. Let’s get into the doctor first and then we can talk about that.” Taylor placed a soothing hand on his chest, feeling his heart hammering beneath her palm. “Maybe I can take a leave. We don’t have to agree today.”

“Fine.”

“Be sweet,” she joked, trying to ease the sudden tension. He turned his head, expression stubborn.

He didn’t want her working. And he damn sure didn’t want his child in daycare.

He knew they had time, but his mind was made up. What had he done all this building for if his woman still had to go punch a clock, belly swollen, legs tired, just toprove a point? Nah.

They were what it had all been for.

“I’ll be easy for now,” he conceded, though his tone made it clear this conversation wasn’t over.

“Thank you.”

Taylor nestled back against his chest, she’d known Brooks was protective, had loved that about him from the beginning, but she could already see that fatherhood would take that instinct to an entirely different level. They would have to find a balance, figure out a way forward that honored both her independence and his desire and oath to provide and protect.

But that was for another day. Today was for embracing this unexpected joy, for letting themselves imagine the future that was now taking shape before them.

Life had a way of surprising you, of taking detours that led to destinations far better than the ones you’d planned. That night at the hospital, stranded and alone, had been her lowest point. But now she saw it for what it truly was, the beginning of everything.

The beginning of them.

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