Total pages in book: 168
Estimated words: 153571 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 768(@200wpm)___ 614(@250wpm)___ 512(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 153571 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 768(@200wpm)___ 614(@250wpm)___ 512(@300wpm)
She worries her bottom lip between her teeth, making it clear she's thinking hard about something. She's been antsy all day. At dawn, I woke up to find her in the nursery, just sitting in the rocking chair, staring out at the beach. I'm not sure what has her so freaked out about today, but it's starting to worry me. She hasn't been this worked up over an ultrasound since the very first one when we heard the baby's heartbeat for the first time.
As soon as she heard it, she started crying. She's been so fucking happy since then. Since the day I met her, I thought Mila was gorgeous. Now though? She's something else altogether. So goddamn breathtaking, I don't know how she's mine. Happiness practically shimmers in the air around her. Even when she's crying over every little thing, she looks settled and peaceful in a way she never has before. The little gleam of confidence and contentment in her eyes that first drew me to her is so much bigger now. It's incredible.
"You nervous, sweetheart?" I ask, sliding my stool closer to the bed when her gaze bounces around the little room again. My knees are damn near in my chest on the damn stool, but I'll survive. My hand slides across her stomach. The other cups her cheek, forcing her to look at me.
"No," she lies and then bites her lip again. "Maybe a little bit."
"Everything is going to be fine," I whisper, leaning forward to press my lips to her forehead. "Our little girl is strong and healthy, and today, you get to find out that I'm right, and we're having a girl." Truthfully, I don't care if we have a boy or a girl, but I love how she smiles at me whenever I tell her we're having a girl. I'll be happy regardless of the gender. How could I not be? Mila has my ring on her finger and my baby in her belly. Despite everything, the baby is healthy and growing, and as soon as he or she is here, Mila will be my wife.
I'm the luckiest motherfucker on the planet.
"I don't know if I want a girl or a boy," she whispers back. "What if they say we're having a girl, and I'm disappointed? Or if they say we're having a boy and I'm disappointed?" Tears shine in her eyes, her distress apparent. "I don't want to be disappointed. I don't want to be a bad mom."
"Baby," I breathe, my heart aching at her words. I really fucking hate her father because I know damn well that's where her fear is coming from. She doesn't want to be like him. That she thinks she could ever be anything less than an incredible mom kills me. I know she'll love our baby regardless of what we have. She already does.
"You're not your dad, Mila," I tell her, putting my hands on her cheeks and forcing her to look at me again. "Since the minute you found out you were pregnant, you've done everything possible to make sure this baby is healthy. You already love him or her so much. I know that love is only going to grow. You could never be a bad mom, baby, because you are nothing like him. Okay?"
"Okay," she whispers, her green eyes roving across my face.
I wipe away the tears trembling on her lashes and then sit there, looking at her.
"Will you be disappointed if we have a boy?" she asks me.
"Fuck no," I say without hesitation. "I want a little girl who looks just like you because you're fucking beautiful, and you're so goddamn sweet. I know a little girl would be just as beautiful and sweet as you are. But if we have a boy, I'll be happy, baby. Besides, I plan to get you pregnant again as soon as possible after you have this one."
"You really want more babies?"
"Hell yeah. I told you I want as many babies as you'll give me, sweetheart."
"I thought you were joking."
I cock a brow at her and then lean down to whisper in her ear. "You've always been beautiful, baby, but seeing you pregnant with my kid is an entirely different level of sexy. You've kept me so fucking hard. All I think about is fucking you. If I could tie you to the bed and make you take my cock until you have this baby, I would."
"Roman," she whimpers, half-chastisement and half-plea. Her body shifts against the bed.
"What? I'm serious." I bite her lobe. "Your body is my goddamn playground, Mila. I never want to leave it. Those tits. That ass. That hot little pussy… Fuck. Being in you is all I think about." I'm not even kidding. When I have to go back to Los Angeles in a couple of days, I'm going to lose my mind all over again. She's always been responsive, but she's a walking, talking, wet dream now. As soon as I touch her, she's ready to go. It's hot as hell. Not being able to be in her every day is going to drive me up the fucking wall.