Changing Lanes

by Vining, Season

  I clap my hands together and bounce in my seat. “Is it present time yet?”

  “Sure,” he says, pulling an envelope from his suit jacket pocket.

  “That’s it? That’s the present that’s so epic?”

  “Big things come in small packages,” he says.

  “Gimme!”

  I rip the envelope open to find a cream colored piece of paper, one edge jagged as if it’s been ripped from a book. I open it and read the print centered in the middle of the page.

  “Dedicated to Stella. She is my muse, my life, my love.” Tears fill my eyes and fall over my cheeks before I can stop them. “So, I don’t get a sneak peek, but I get the whole book?”

  Lane nods and takes my hand in his. “I know our journey has been fast and wild, but that doesn’t change one bit of how I feel about you. With you picking this town, moving in next door, and completely owning me— from the first flash to this moment—it seems like destiny doesn’t it? You are my future, Stella.”

  I laugh and wipe my face dry. Lane sits back smugly, thinking he has won the battle of the gifts. “Well,” I say, pulling a long slender box from my purse and placing it on the table between us. “I’m glad you feel that way.”

  He picks up the box and shakes it, a soft rattling sound comes from inside. He pulls on the ribbon, untying the bow and letting it fall away. “The look on your face says that you think you’ve won,” he says. I give nothing away, keeping my eyes on that box. Every muscle in my body pulls rigid in anticipation. I hold my breath.

  When Lane lifts the lid, his eyes scan the contents and nothing happens. My stomach twists and my pulse spikes as panic rises. His face is expressionless. He doesn’t move. After a minute, which feels like two lifetimes in the scheme of things, I can’t take it anymore.

  “Lane?” I say softly.

  Finally, his eyes meet mine and a smile as bright as the Georgia summer sun splits his face. He holds up the white plastic stick and waves it at me. “You’re pregnant?”

  “I am.”

  “Holy shit!” he almost yells. Lane jumps from his chair and moves around the table, kneeling next to me. He places his large, warm hand over my belly. “There’s a baby in there?” he asks.

  I nod. “A little lower, but yes.”

  Lane sits back on his heels and blows out a breath. “I’m going to be a dad,” he says, his eyes glazing over, his words wavering in disbelief.

  “If you want to,” I say.

  He whips his face back toward me, serious eyes pinning me in place. “If I want to? Of course I want to.”

  Lane leans forward now, kissing me slowly at first. Soft lips against mine, worshipping, reverent. When I hum against his mouth, he deepens the kiss. We devour each other, the passion and joy growing until I feel dizzy.

  I pull away, placing a hand on my chest as it heaves to take in air. Sitting back in my chair, I stare at the gorgeous face before me. The sweet man who celebrates who I am and is my biggest cheerleader at every turn. The man who will be my child’s father. The man who showed me what love is supposed to feel like, for others and for myself.

  About the Author

  SEASON VINING grew up in southern Louisiana where food, culture, and family mean everything. She has lived in Houston, San Diego, and NYC—all of them providing colorful experiences and tons of writing material. Her obsessions include live music, tattooed bad boys, vintage cars, and people who know the difference between their, there, and they’re. To learn more, visit her online at www.seasonvining.com.