by Kali Argent
All that time together, and he still knew just the right thing to say to make her melt. “A lot has changed since then.”
After everything that had happened, Phoebe’s house hadn’t felt like much of a haven anymore. Every time she walked through the door, she remembered the weeks of hell she’d endured, the mounting tension and growing violence. She remembered that basement, and the crazed look in Elena’s eyes when she’d shot Rayce.
So, she’d packed up her things, contacted a real estate agent to put her house on the market, and she’d moved in with Rayce at his condo in the city. It didn’t take long for them to realize that city life wasn’t for her, though. She couldn’t sleep with all the noise going on around them, and she was always distracted when she tried to write.
Luckily, her house had sold quickly, much sooner than she’d anticipated, and within three months of Rayce leaving the hospital, they’d closed on a new house, still in the suburbs, but closer to his office. Every day since then had been like a fairy tale—a twisted, erotic one—but a fairy tale nonetheless.
Their new home fit them perfectly. Phoebe had her own office. Rayce had a room for his diecast car collection. There was even a room next to theirs that would be perfect for a nursery.
“Phoebe, you’re making me nervous. What’s going on?”
Taking a deep breath to calm her nerves, she produced a small, rectangular gift from behind her back and held it up to him. “Merry Christmas, my love.”
With a furrowed brow, he took the box from her hand and carelessly ripped away the wrapping. Men. When he pulled the top off the box, he froze, staring down at the contents unblinkingly. He didn’t say anything. He didn’t look at her. She wasn’t even sure he was still breathing.
“Rayce, please say something.”
With trembling fingers, he lifted the silver rattle from the gift box and closed his eyes. “Does this mean…” Trailing off, he swallowed hard and opened his eyes. “Are we…am I…”
“Yes.” Tears filled her eyes as she nodded. “You’re going to be a dad.”
Gently, as if it was made of spun glass, he replaced the rattle and set the box down on the hearth behind her. Then, he knelt in front of her and held her hips as he leaned forward to kiss her belly.
“Hello, little one,” he whispered thickly. “It’s your dad. I can’t wait to meet you.”
Phoebe stroked his hair, tears falling freely down her cheeks and ruining her makeup. She didn’t care. “You’re going to be an incredible father. Our baby is so lucky.”
Rayce kissed her belly again, then stood to pull her into his arms. “I’m the lucky one. Every day, I wake up, scared that this is all just a dream.”
She knew exactly what he meant. Sometimes, she’d wake up before him, and just lie in bed, watching him sleep. She didn’t know what she’d ever done to deserve a man like Rayce, but she would never take him for granted.
“Do you believe in fate?”
“I didn’t.”
She wrinkled her nose. “What changed your mind?”
He tilted her head up and kissed her tenderly. “I met you.”
THE END
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Born with a silver tongue and a pen in her hand, Kali spends her days crafting scandalous romances filled with flawed heroes and kick-ass heroines. When she's not writing, she can be found curled up in her favorite chair with a good book and a steamy cup of coffee.
Self-proclaimed introvert and supporter of the selectively social, Kali currently resides in North Texas with her insane family, including two lazy dogs and one tragically misunderstood cat.
Seriously, though, the cat is evil.
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