Creed stroked her belly with his thumbs, then pulled her shirt back down and smoothed it into place. Easing her against him and resting his chin on top of her head, he murmured, “Gia, I fucked up so bad yesterday. I freaked out. I’m so sorry.”
Tears stung her eyes again. Dang, these hormones were wrecking her emotions. “Why did you say you can’t have a baby? Because I took, like, ten pregnancy tests that say you definitely can.”
“It wasn’t that I can’t have them. It was that I shouldn’t. I’m not exactly equipped for this.”
“I’m not either, Creed. I mean, look at me. I’m living in my friend’s trailer with no plan for the future.”
“But, you’re keeping the baby, right?” A tinge of worry tainted his words.
“Of course. I gave up my relationship with my parents so I could. Even if you weren’t being nice, and even if you wanted nothing to do with me or the baby, I’d find a way to take care of us.” She eased out of his embrace and dug in her pocket. “I have something for you.”
She handed him a tiny ultrasound picture. “I asked for an extra copy for you when I had it done. You can have this one. I have the same one, too.”
Creed stared at it, turned it this way and that. “It’s the baby?”
“Here, let me show you. See that black space? That’s the sack he’s living in. And that,” she said, pointing to the light gray center, “that’s our baby. He’s the size of a banana now, but when I had the ultrasound, he was only this big.” She put her finger and thumb an inch apart. “The size of a grape.”
Creed looked up at her with shock in his eyes, then back at the picture. “Is that his face?”
Gia laughed thickly and nodded, then pointed to the little paddles on his torso. “Those are his hands.”
“Oh my God,” he whispered, shaking his head. “That’s a baby.”
Gia nodded, unable to take her eyes off the wonder in Creed’s face.
“That’s going to be a little person.”
She nodded again and said, “I hope he looks like you.” She hadn’t meant to say her secret wish out loud, but it was out there now, hanging in the air between them. She hoped he was a brawny little baby, strong and able to handle the little bear that was inside of him. She wanted him to be dark-headed like Creed, because deep down, that night with him had changed her from the inside out. She’d slept with him to escape the shit-storm that was going on at home, but because of her shifter obsession and because of her stupid plan with the bombshells to sleep with a shifter after graduation, she’d lost a little piece of her heart to a stranger. To Creed.
“We goin’ or what?” Matt called from where the crew was gathered.
“Yeah, in a minute,” Creed answered as he tucked the ultrasound image carefully into his pocket. “Come on, you should meet the crew.” He grabbed her hand and pulled her toward them, his gait smooth and confident, the muscles in his back and shoulders flexing through the thin material of his dark sweater as he moved.
She’d already met some of the Gray Backs when she’d been in Saratoga the first time, but the one from the tree line she didn’t recognize at all.
“Bombshell!” Jason called, his dark eyes dancing as he held up a sack lunch.
She still hated that name. “Hey, Jason.”
“And you probably remember Clinton,” Creed said, gesturing to the blond man with an entire breakfast sandwich hanging out of his mouth as he pulled a canvas backpack over his shoulders. “Gooseyougin,” he slurred around the food.
She talked food-speak though, so she grinned and said, “Good to see you, too.”
“Matt is Matt, and this here is Easton.” Creed turned her shoulders toward the tall man with chestnut-colored hair and striking green eyes. Eyes so inhuman looking, it was hard to hold his gaze. He didn’t say anything, but dragged his unsettling gaze down her torso to her stomach. The corners of his eyes tightened, and a soft, feral rumble rattled from his chest.
“What the fuck did you do to her?” Easton looked at Creed, accusation and fury in his glare.
“Easton,” Creed warned, angling his head. “This ain’t a bad thing.”
Creed pulled Gia behind him, so she had to stand on her tiptoes to see Easton over his broad shoulder.
Easton’s dark eyebrows winged up. “Not a bad thing? You fucking killed her.”
Something electric was in the air now, just above her senses, jolting all the fine hairs on her body.
“Come on, man,” Clinton murmured to Easton, squeezing his shoulder. “This isn’t like with you. Gia’s going to be okay.”