Page 46 of Wrecker

Our old farmhouse sat on ten acres on the west end of Old Bridge. The late afternoon sun stretched long shadows over the porch as the birds chirped in the trees. I’d gutted the whole place after we bought it—ripped out walls with my own hands, reinforced the frame myself, and built everything new from the bones out. Every nail, every board, every fucking hinge had my mark on it. I needed it that way. Needed to carve out a place in this world that was onlyours.

A home.

Not just a place to sleep, but somewhere to belong.

I stood just inside the front door, filthy boots planted wide on the scuffed hardwood and dust streaking my shirt while sweat clung to my back. But none of that shit mattered.

Because my attention was glued across the room. Peyton sat cross-legged on the couch, hair up in a loose, messy knot with a pencil stuck in it, flipping through one of her construction codes manuals. She had no clue I was watching her, and that made my desire for her even worse. Or better. Depending on how a man looked at it.

She was wearing my old tee—stretched across her tits and tight over her belly.

Perfect. My very pregnant, very fucking perfect woman.

Curled up next to her on the couch were our daughters, both fast asleep. Farrah had a blanket twisted around her legs and had a stuffed wolf tucked against her chest. Not quite two years old, and already a little spitfire. Just like her mom.

I was fucked the second she started talking in full sentences. Didn’t stand a fucking chance. Learned that when our four-year-old, Mindy, opened her mouth and let out all her sass. She sighed in her sleep and snuggled her bear closer.

My girls were cute as fuck, and they had me wrapped around their little fingers.

A lump formed in my throat, and I scrubbed a hand down my face, swallowing hard as I crossed the room. Peyton looked up at the sound of my boots, and her whole face lit up, her smile cracking my chest open so my love poured out.

“You’re home early,” she whispered, voice soft so she wouldn’t wake the girls.

“Yeah.” My voice came out rougher than I meant, but I didn’t care. I leaned down and kissed her, one hand sliding to her swollen belly like it had a magnetic pull. “Missed you.”

She kissed me back, eyes closing, her lips soft and warm. “You always miss me.”

“Fucking right I do.”

I dropped to one knee in front of her, hands splaying over her stomach. When I felt the little kick against my palm, I grinned.

This one was a boy.Thank fuck. I needed backup with all these gorgeous girls to protect.

We found out last week. I’d nearly put my fist through the drywall in the clinic from the pressure of waiting even though I’d been good. I’d kept it together because Peyton wanted a calm moment.

And she’d gotten it.

Afterward, though…she didn’t complain when I bent her over the bathroom sink and made sure she knewexactlyhow proud I was of what her body could do.

Now I rubbed a slow circle across her belly with my thumb and whispered low, “How’s our boy?”

“He’s restless. Been kicking the same spot since this morning.”

Smirking, I leaned in and pressed a kiss right where she’d pointed. “That’s my son. Already taking no shit.”

Peyton laughed, shaking her head. “You’re going to be impossible when he gets here.”

“You knew that before you let me knock you up again, baby,” I said, dragging my hand down her thigh. “Twice.”

Her cheeks turned that pretty pink I never got tired of, and her violet eyes sparkled. “I did,” she agreed. “And I’d do it all again.”

I glanced at our daughters, still dead to the world, then cupped Peyton’s jaw and kissed her long and slow. When I pulled back, her eyes were dazed and her lips slightly parted.

“Already done it again,” I teased, patting her belly. “And if I get my way, it won’t be the last time.”

She snorted and shook her head. “You’re relentless.”

“And you fucking love me.”

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