“Are you mad?”

The deep rumble of Brandon’s voice in his chest vibrates against my ear, startling me from the near sleep I started drifting into.

“Hmm?” I hum, feathering my lashes against his bare chest.

We’re curled up in his giant bed in the apartment in Seattle. If I had it my way, we’d never leave this spot.

“Are you mad I went to visit Jayne?”

I shake my head, lifting my hand to run my fingers over the ridges of his abs. I will never tire of looking at this man’s body. I still can’t believe he’s mine.

“No. I understand why you did it. Even if I can’t understand them.”

“You and me both. But at least we won’t have to worry about them anymore.”

“You’re sure they’re going to drop it?”

Brandon’s fingers glide up my arm, leaving a trail of goose bumps in their wake. “I’m sure. I don’t think the guy really wanted to do it in the first place. He was just going along with Jayne.”

“So, she was in love with you.” It’s a statement, not a question.

Brandon exhales deeply. “She thinks so. I highly doubt it though. I think she was more in love with the idea of me than the actual man.”

I scoff. “I wouldn’t be so sure. You’re a pretty great guy.”

“Because of you. You make me want to be a better person. But, before you…I was a grade-A asshole.”

“Even still, I have to admit, I feel a little sorry for her.”

Brandon slides away from me a bit, his brows pulling together as he looks at me. “You feel sorry for her?”

I nod. “Well, yeah. She was in love with you for all those years. And then I came along and stole you right out from under her.”

He moves back into his original position, pulling me tight against his chest once more. “You didn’t steal anything. I was never hers to begin with. I’ve always been yours. I’m pretty sure I was born to be yours.”

I purse my lips in a small smile, and he must feel the movement against his skin because he pokes me in the side.

“What’s that look for?”

I giggle as I turn my face into him. “Nothing. I still can’t get used to how cheesy you are sometimes. It’s hard to believe you’re some badass baseball player when you say things like ‘I was born to be yours.’”

Before I know what’s happening, he rolls us so that he’s on top of me, pressing just enough of his weight into me so that I can’t move but not enough that it’s uncomfortable.

“I’ll show you cheesy. Prepare yourself to be dipped in a vat of Gouda. Topped with mozzarella. And covered in cheddar, just for good measure. Because I don’t intend to ever stop telling you how much I love you.”

He lowers his lips to mine, claiming them in a fiery kiss. I moan into his mouth, and he takes it as an invitation to slide his hands further south.

His deft fingers linger on my breasts for a moment, tweaking my nipples until the stiff peaks strain against my shirt.

“Brandon, please…” I groan into his mouth. “I can’t do slow tonight. I need you now.”

His tongue darts into my mouth as his hand slides down my stomach, toward my center. I raise my hips off the bed, hoping to speed his movements, when his mouth rips from mine, his hands leaving my body as he shoots up off the bed.

“What was that?” he all but shouts as he pants.

“What?” I ask, breathless and a little irritated that he’s left me hanging.

“Your…your stomach. It moved.”

My gaze travels slowly up from the erection in his boxers to his face, and I can’t hold back the explosion of laughter that erupts when I see the terrified look I find.

“It was just the baby. Bean has been moving a lot more in the last few days. I was hoping you’d get a chance to feel it.”

“Bean?” he asks, his brows furrowed in confusion.

I nod. “Yeah, that’s what I’ve taken to calling him or her. Since we don’t know if it’s a boy or a girl, I figure Bean is as good a name as any.”

He lets out a breath. “Bean it is then. Though I will veto that if you try to write it on the birth certificate.”

I laugh. “Don’t worry; I have no intention of traumatizing our child.”

His face lights up at my words. “I like that. Our child.”

He climbs back on the bed, rolling over so that his face is propped up on his hands in front of my stomach, his gaze intent on my growing baby bump.

“Well, you’d better get used to it. Because this kid is sticking around for the next eighteen years.”

“Make Bean move again,” he demands, his face lit up like a kid in line to see Santa.

I chuckle. “It’s not exactly something I can control. Believe it or not, this baby has a mind of its own. And he or she is stubborn. Just like their father.”

“But I want to see it. And feel it again.”

I reach down, brushing my fingers through the hair that’s fallen over his forehead. “Don’t worry; if you wait long enough, Bean’s sure to move again.”

“Do you want to find out if it’s a boy or a girl?” he asks, his eyes never once leaving my belly.

I think for a moment. Up until this point, I thought I did, never having been one for surprises.

But my entire life has become one big surprise.

Brandon. The baby. The store.

We never know what life has planned for us, curveballs coming when you least expect them.

But that’s half of the fun.

“I think we should wait,” I say, ruffling his hair once again. “Unless you’d rather know,” I tack on to the end, knowing I’m not the only one who gets to make these decisions anymore.

He shakes his head. “Doesn’t matter to me if it’s a boy or a girl. I’ll love Bean all the same. Let’s wait.”

And, when my stomach flutters again and Brandon’s face breaks out into the biggest smile I’ve ever seen, I can’t help but feel as if everything in my life has led up to this very moment.

All the years with my mother. All the times I thought I’d never be enough.

It all brought me here.

To the bed of a baseball superstar, a life we both created growing in my belly.

Brandon Jeffers specializes in cleanups.

On the field. In his life.

And in my heart.