Chapter 21

Chapter Twenty-One

Connor

I vy was flitting around the first floor of her house like a butterfly, but this time, instead of being wild and fun, she was more... hyperactive and anxious.

"You really need to relax, sweetheart. You're stressed about nothin'."

I knew from the murderous scowl she shot in my direction I'd just said the wrong thing, but I didn't know what else to say or do to help calm her down. It had been a week since the ultrasound. For most of those few days we'd been riding a high. I knew I was. I mean, how could I not. I heard my baby's freaking heartbeat .

It had to have been the coolest experience of my life. I got to hear the heartbeat of a life I helped create. A little chickpea that was half mine and half the woman I was steadily falling for on a daily basis. There was no other person on the planet I would have wanted to experience that with. The moment the room filled with that echo-y whooshing sound I knew what true, unfiltered happiness was.

I wished it had been something I could have talked about with my parents in person. After all, it had taken a while to guide them through the shell shock at discovering they were going to be grandparents. It was something my mom had harped on me about for quite some time now, but in her head it was with a woman I was in a loving, committed relationship with. Marriage or not, she didn't care as long as we were happy. But learning over the phone it was the result of a drunken night after a wedding had been a bit of a blow. It had helped a bit when she learned I had real feelings for Ivy and that, despite the stupid agreement we had to co-parent as friends—I was really starting to hate that word—I was secretly trying win her back. I just had to be sly about it. I couldn't let on that I woke every morning with the sole purpose of worming my way beneath her skin and back into her heart.

When we talked about the baby, I'd actually choked up as I tried to put into words how I felt at seeing that little flutter on the screen. Hearing that had set off my mother's waterworks and she spent the rest of that phone call in happy tears. I'd promised them both they would get to meet Ivy soon enough, and there wasn't a doubt in my mind they were going to love her. She was exactly the type of crazy my tattoo artist mother would connect with, and her business savvy and work ethic were something my attorney father would respect.

Now, after a week of great, she was, once again, a nervous wreck.

She pushed her chin out and blew a puff of air upward to try and blow a lock of hair out of her face. "I really think it would be for the best if you let me break the news to them alone."

I placed the basket of dinner rolls in the center of the dining room table and turned to her to tuck the hair behind her ears so it would quit bothering her. "I told you, that's not gonna happen."

She was finally going to tell her mom and stepdad about the pregnancy, and she decided the best way to do that was over a homecooked family dinner. When I informed her that I planned on being there when she told them, she'd cracked up for a solid minute and a half. When she realized I wasn't kidding, she panicked. She spent the better part of the day trying to convince me it was a bad idea, and her list of reasons was substantial. Starting with her cop stepdad killing me and ending with the likelihood of my body never being found.

I wasn't worried.

My resolve to fight for the woman I wanted hadn't lessened. If anything, after that doctor's appointment it had grown that much stronger. I was in this to win, and I wouldn't be scared off by anyone.

I took the linen napkin she'd been folding and re-folding for the past five minutes and set it aside. Reaching up, I placed my hands on either side of her neck and used my thumbs to tilt her face up as I crouched to bring myself eye-level with her. I wasn't making a conscious effort to touch her any chance I could get, it was just something I couldn't help. I did it without thinking, my body drawn to hers whenever she was around. If she was close enough, my hands sought her out in some way.

"I promise, tonight is going to be great."

She let out an indelicate snort. "You can't possibly promise something like that."

"I can. I told you already that I've got you, I'll make sure everything is fine, and I mean it." I wasn't going to let anyone stress Ivy out more than she already was. I wouldn't let anyone make her feel bad or ashamed about the situation we were in. Not even her own family.

"I think I could soften the blow a bit before they meet you. That way they have some time to wrap their head around everything."

I stroked the side of her neck with the pad of my thumb, not missing the way her pupils expanded or the slight lean of her body to get a little closer to my touch. It was those little signs that she still wanted me—or at least her body did—that kept me going. Kept me hoping.

"Nope. We're in this together. We're a team, remember? We do this together or not at all."

She blew out a raspberry and took a step back, breaking our connection as she ran her hands down the front of her shirt. When I arrived earlier to help her prepare for dinner and got my first glimpse of her in a pair of painted-on jeans and a vintage concert tee that left an inch of bare, creamy skin visible along her stomach and back, I'd gone instantly hard. The past week and a half had been a true test of strength for me. Living so damn close to her but still being too far from her was driving me out of my goddamn mind.

More than once, I'd woken up and shuffled into my small kitchenette for my morning coffee only to spot her through the window of her house still dressed in her pajamas with her hair wild and her face soft with sleep. The woman slept in these slinky, satin-y nighties that would cause a priest to question his vow of celibacy, and I was nowhere near as restrained as a man of the cloth.

If it wasn't those goddamn nighties, it was the skin-tight spandex she wore when she did yoga beside her back garden.

I'd pumped my own dick so much lately that I was starting to worry about blisters.

"Stop fidgeting," I told her, silently willing my dick not to get hard tonight. "You look beautiful."

"My boobs look ridiculous," she grumbled as she looked down at her chest and grabbed the body parts in question, lifting them up and letting them drop again. So much for not getting hard . "I swear to God they've gotten bigger. What do you think?" She looked up at me guilelessly. "Do they look bigger to you?"

I let out a pained groan and dropped my head back. "I think I'm not above beggin' you to please not talk about your tits. The last thing we need is for me to meet your folks sporting a half-chub."

Her eyes darted down to my dick and the tip of her tongue peeked out to swipe across her bottom lip before she pulled it between her teeth and bit down.

"Fuckin' hell," I growled. "You can't look at me like that. It's not helping."

Her eyes bulged out as they darted back up to my face. "Sorry," she squeaked, her cheeks staining pink. "I'm sorry."

The doorbell rang a moment later, and I wasn't sure if I was grateful for the interruption or pissed off. I didn't have time to decide, because Ivy was scurrying to the door and grabbing the knob before the chime had even stopped.

I stood between the dining room and kitchen with my hands stuffed into the pockets of my jeans as I waited patiently. Truth be told, I was nervous as hell. I hadn't done the whole "meet the parents" thing in a really long time, and I would have been lying if I said I wasn't worried about making a good impression. But I kept that from Ivy, wanting to be a rock for her to lean on, not another cause of stress.

"Hey, love bug!" I heard just before a set of arms wrapped around Ivy and pulled her into an embrace.

"Hey, Mom." I could hear the affection Ivy held for her mom in her voice.

"Missed you, Monster," a male voice greeted, making my little butterfly laugh.

"Hi, Mike. Missed you too." She stepped back and waved her folks in. "Come on in, guys. There's actually someone here I want you to meet."

If ever there was a time for me to shine, it was this one.

Christ, I hoped I didn't shit my pants the one time it mattered the most.

Ivy

"You want us to meet someone?" My mom's brows went up in curiosity while Micah's dipped down in an unhappy frown.

"Thought this was family dinner?" Micah grumbled. "Who would you want us to meet at a family dinner?" he asked, putting extra emphasis on the word family.

I laughed nervously. "Well, it's funny you should ask that." Just do it and get it over with , I told myself. The faster the better. Like ripping a wax strip off your bikini area. I lifted my arm, indicating Connor as they stepped into the house, shutting the door behind them. Connor waved politely and stayed in place as though waiting for my cue. "I don't know if you guys remember Connor Bennett from Rae and Zach's wedding?"

"Of course." My mom smiled politely and walked to him, shaking his hand. "It's nice to see you again."

Micah offered him a silent chin lift in that weird way guys did.

"Well, Connor's here because... I'm pregnant. And he's the father."

Riiiiiip .

The silence around the table was like an uninvited fifth dinner companion. The creepy uncle who was never invited places because he weirded everyone out. Or that one aunt who insisted on kissing everyone on the mouth.

The only sound that filled the otherwise deafening quiet was the clink of silverware against dishes as we ate. The few bites I'd taken sat like a brick in my stomach.

After ten agonizing minutes, Connor broke the silence. "This is really good, butterfly."

My stepfather slapped his napkin down on the table. "I'm gonna murder your ass."

Oh goody. Everyone was talking again.

My mom reached over and put a calming hand on her husband's arm. "Will you relax? You aren't going to kill anyone."

"Am too. I'm gonna kill him." Micah picked up his fork and held it in his fist like he would a hunting knife, the gesture meant to be threatening.

Used to ignoring her husband's ridiculous antics, my mother looked at me with a gentle smile. "It all makes sense now. No wonder you were so sick before. I should have known. When I first got pregnant with you I couldn't keep anything down."

I leaned forward and braced my chin on my fist, eager to hear stories about when my mother was pregnant. "Really?"

"Yeah." She nodded on a laugh. "Your grandmother went through the same thing. She said it was the fiery hair. Made morning sickness even worse. I didn't believe her, of course. But then you were born, and, well..." She waved her hand at my strawberry hued hair.

"So you think I'll have a little redhead too?" The thought made me smile.

Mom returned my dreamy look. "Wouldn't that be something?"

"I think I'd like a little redheaded girl, just like her mom," Connor said, his dimples coming out and pointing right at me.

"You don't talk," Micah barked at him. "This is all your damn fault, so you sit there quietly and eat your damn dinner."

I heaved out a sigh. "Mike, will you please quit threatening him?"

"Is it Mike?" Connor's confused gaze darted between me and my mother. "I thought it was Micah."

I opened my mouth to respond, but of course Micah beat me to it. "Only Ivy calls me Mike," he bit out. "You can call me Mr. Langford. Or Lieutenant ." He hooked a brow upward. "Tell me, Connor . You got any outstanding warrants? You wanted in any other state? What's your criminal history look like? You a drinker? A gambler?"

"Ignore him, please," I said to Connor, rolling my eyes at my stepfather's ridiculousness. "His name is Micah. I called him Mike when I was little. The nickname sort of stuck."

He crossed his arms over his chest and glared Connor down. "And you're not allowed to use it."

Good lord, was he pouting?

I tossed my napkin down and pushed away from the table. Stomping into the kitchen, I snatched the sonogram off the fridge and brought it back into the dining room. I handed it to my mother. "I'm a little over nine weeks."

"Oh my God," she breathed, her eyes growing damp and her hand coming up to cover her mouth as she looked at my little baby blip in the picture. "Look at that." She sniffled. "My baby is having a baby."

"Look, I know this didn't happen the traditional way, but it happened." I cut my eyes to Micah. "I'm not a kid, I'm a consenting adult. Connor and I did everything we were supposed to do to prevent this. It happened anyway."

Micah's face grew red, and I was willing to bet he wanted to slap his hands over his ears and shout la la la la la .

"I'm keeping the baby. Connor and I have talked about it, and we are going to co-parent. He moved into Sylvia's carriage house to be close. We might not be doing things the way people would expect, but we're going to make it work. We're going to love this baby and we're going to make sure it's happy. How we do it is going to look a little different from the norm."

Connor reached over and took my hand in his, lending me his strength. I'd been wrong for suggesting he not be here for this, and I was so glad he hadn't listened to me. Having him here made this easier. Made me feel stronger. I smiled at him, mouthing a silent thank you .

He shot me a wink that I felt in my clit, but I pushed the sensation away and looked back at my parents. "Do you guys have any questions for us?"

Dinner went a bit smoother after that. While Micah never stopped staring daggers at Connor, he at least quit with the verbal threats. When Mom pointed out the baby in the sonogram picture, I watched as he visibly melted, staring at Chickpea in a way I could only describe as proud grandpa.

Mom told us more stories from her pregnancy, which gave way to telling Connor about some of the crazy things I'd gotten up to when I was a little girl. By the time dinner was over my stress was gone. My mother pulled Connor into an affectionate hug, welcoming him into the family.

When I walked them to the door, Micah hung back after my mom and I shared our goodbyes and she headed to the car.

He cleared his throat uncomfortably and tugged at his collar. "Look, I know I'm not your biological dad, but blood has never mattered to me. I want you to know, you're my daughter. No matter what. And if you ever need anything, I'm always here."

I launched myself at the man who had cherished me as his own from the moment he met me as a four-year-old, dressed in a mud-covered tutu, a glittery skull shirt, and sparkly combat boots. "You're my dad," I whispered into his neck. "Always will be."

He squeezed me tightly. "Love you with all my heart, Monster," he whispered into my hair.

"And I love you with all of mine." I pulled back and placed a kiss to his cheek, dashing at the tear that had spilled free with the back of my hand before placing it on my belly. "And I'm so happy this baby is going to have you as a grandpa."

He sniffed and cleared his throat. "Well... okay then. Enough of this emotional stuff, yeah? I better get your mom home. We'll talk soon."

I shut the door and turned around to press my back against it, a smile taking over my face. When I looked in the direction of the dining room, I saw the table had been mostly cleared, and I could hear the sound of running water and the clink of dishes coming from the kitchen where Connor had taken it upon himself to clean up.

Bam . Another direct hit.