Boarlander Bash Bear 2(18)

Bash winced against the sunlight and pulled a pair of aviator sunglasses off the V-neck of his black T-shirt. He put them on, then opened the door of his truck and helped her in. When she was settled, he closed the door and jogged around the front on his long, powerful legs. As he sat behind the wheel and turned on the engine, she realized something. Her baby wouldn’t look anything like the man she loved. Loved? She stared at Bash’s profile as he pulled out of her neighborhood. Strong jaw, straight nose, perfect dark scruff, and those gorgeous emerald eyes that lightened to such a mesmerizing color when his inner bear was close to the surface. He was perfect, but her baby would look different, like some blond-haired stranger. And now she was at about forty-two percent sure she wanted to go through with this.

There was a massive box in the back seat, and when she saw the picture on the side, she nearly choked on air. “Bash, did you buy a car seat?”

A soft growl rattled his throat. “Woman, you weren’t supposed to guess what it is. I turned it so you couldn’t tell.”

“You didn’t want me to know?”

“Well, my alpha said humans take things slower, and I don’t want to rush you.”

“What do you mean?”

“I pick you,” he said with a shrug and a duh look.

“You pick me for what?”

Another growl, and he turned up the radio.

“Sebastian Kane, what the hell are you talking about?”

“You’re my mate, and I’m only your friend, but I’m gonna hunt you until you give in, even if it takes a hundred years, and at some point in that hundred years, I’m gonna need a car seat in my truck for Bean.”

“Bean?” she asked, utterly baffled.

“That’s what I’m calling your baby until you name it.”

“Oh,” she said stunned as she stared back at the car seat.

“I researched it, and that’s the safest one Saratoga has to offer.”

Bash had just laid it on the line and admitted she was his choice. No one in her entire life had said anything like that. She’d fallen short with other relationships. They’d deserted her or picked other women, and she’d always been left feeling like not-quite-enough. But Bash was in this.

He not only had picked her, but he was choosing her future baby, too, by buying that car seat. Emerson hugged the stuffed bear against her middle to steady the nerves there.

Thirty-five percent. Shit, could she even do this anymore?

Yes. The last year of appointments and questions and planning had gotten her here to this day. This way Bash would have an out. They were new, and since it wouldn’t be his baby biologically, he could still bow out. It was too early in their relationship to talk about building a family, and she was ready. More than ready. So why did she feel like puking all the sudden?

She gave Bash directions to the women’s clinic and tried to anchor herself in the moment. It was normal to get cold feet. Dr. Mallory had said as much on multiple occasions, and that’s all this was. Cold feet. And besides, there was a chance this wouldn’t even take the first time. Wait. Was that what she wanted? For a baby not to take?

She felt like an ant in a toilet that someone had just flushed.

Bash rested his palm on her thigh and squeezed it gently. “You smell scared, but you don’t have to be. I read on the Internet it won’t hurt.”

Sweet bear. She intertwined her fingers with his and lifted his knuckles to her lips. She kissed him there to reward him for being amazing.

At the women’s clinic, she got out and straightened her dress, then clopped across the parking lot beside Bash. The air felt thin. And heavy. Unbreathable.

Bash led her through the sliding glass doors to the empty waiting room. “Slow day,” she said with a nervous laugh.

“Hey Emerson,” the nurse called from behind the check-in counter. “Dr. Mallory is ready for you if you want to come on back.”

“So soon?” she squeaked out. “Okay.” She offered Bash a smile, but it fell off her face with a lip tremble.

“It’ll be okay. You’ll make a good baby. Do you want me to hold that?” Bash asked, pointing to the stuffed bear she clutched to her stomach.

“Uhhh,” she stalled, frowning down at the soft present he’d gotten the baby. She hadn’t realized she was still holding it. “I think I’ll take it with me.”

Bash gripped her shoulders and leveled her with a look. “I’ll be right out here. We’ll go get some fried pickles or whatever you want after this and have some fun, okay?”

“Yeah.” Emerson hugged his waist and inhaled deeply. He smelled like a delicious combination of clean-breeze laundry detergent and masculine body wash. Gripping his shirt, she said, “I’ll be right back,” then eased away. She didn’t look back as she signed in, or even when she followed the nurse out of the waiting room. She would fold if she did.