Chapter 21
Bunny sucks in a breath as the physician squirts gel on her bare belly. Her head turns to the ultrasound machine, so I can’t see her face, but I’d give anything to catch a glimpse of her emotions right now.
“Sorry about that, it’s a little cold at first,” the woman apologizes, sliding the transducer through the goo.
My fingers twitch, desperate to touch her—hold her, anchor her, remind her I’m not going anywhere.
I’m pregnant.
Two words I never thought I’d hear from Bunny’s lips—especially not where I’m concerned. But here we are… and I hate that I can’t allow myself the slightest bit of happiness.
She’s been distant since we found out, and for once, I’m at a complete loss. I want to scream it from the rooftops that I’m having a baby with the woman I love. But Bunny isn’t happy about it at all. She doesn’t seem angry, just… neutral.
Which almost feels worse. I’d rather she yell and pound on my chest for forgetting to use a condom that night—and all the times after—than have her stare blankly like she’s gone catatonic.
A whooshing reverberates off the walls, followed by a rhythmic pulsing, reminiscent of a gallop. “There we go. See?” The doctor points to a space on the screen that, in my inexperienced opinion, looks like a kidney bean. “We have a strong heartbeat.”
Baby bean blurs as my eyes go glassy. Pain anchors me as I dig my nails into my arms, trying to keep from getting emotional—attached—to this tiny thing we created.
Ultimately, it’s Bunny’s decision, and she may want to terminate the pregnancy.
I don’t need a reason to resent her, so I keep my gaze on my loafers.
“...nose, there’s the arms and a leg.” The doctor keeps rambling, and I close my eyes, imagining what a kid of ours might look like. Would it have her soft hazel eyes? My sharp jaw? One thing’s for sure: it would definitely have fantastic hair because that’s a trait we’ve both been blessed with.
Utter helplessness pours through me as I press my back to the wall and silently repeat, don’t look up, don’t look up.
This is all I’ve ever wanted—right here in this room—and I’m terrified Bunny won’t just take it away from me, she’ll rip it from my grasp and disappear again. When the going gets tough, my little rabbit runs. And now there’s another life in the mix… what does this mean for us?
Whatever choice she makes, we’ll never be the same after today.
The doctor’s laugh cuts through my mantra. “Mommy is reaching for you, Daddy.”
I blink, tears slipping down my cheeks as I drag my gaze from the speckled blue tile. She’s right. Bunny isn’t looking at me, but her hand is outstretched, waiting for me to take it.
An unsteady breath pushes past my lips. I rush to her side, lace our fingers, and bring her hand to my mouth. “I’m right here.”
“That’s ours,” she whispers shakily. “That’s our baby.”
“That’s our baby, Little Rabbit.” My tears fall freely now, and I don’t bother to hide them. Not even when Bunny turns to me, silver clinging to her lashes as her mossy eyes gleam with her own unshed emotions.
“That’s your baby,” the doctor repeats, soft and motherly. “You look like you’re measuring at about twelve weeks.”
“That tracks.” Bunny laughs, and it’s like music to my ears—the first sign she’s not as miserable about this as I feared. Giggles bubble out of her, shaking the bed as she pulls our joined hands to rest on her stomach. “We baked a baby in a bar.”
A deep rumble spills from my chest as I join her, roughly wiping my face before raking my fingers through my hair, uncaring that I’m headed back to work after this and probably just messed it up. “Taco-bout the timing.”
We pause, grinning at each other, before erupting into hysterics.
The doctor cants her head, amused. “I’ll let you two have a moment. Bunny, you can get dressed now, and we’ll discuss next steps when I return.”
Bunny manages to quell her laughter until we’re alone, but this time it sounds forced. My merriment dies as we lock eyes and her joy pivots back to tears. “Hunter, what are we going to do?”
“What do you want to do?” I ask quietly, rubbing my thumb over her knuckles. With each silent breath she takes, I start to harden my heart, preparing for her to lash out and tell me this is my fault.
She sniffs, her bottom lip trembling as she releases my hand to grab the towel the doctor left, rubbing the gel off her stomach. “I want to scream and rage because the timing sucks.”
Drawing up my walls, I step back and turn to give her privacy while she dresses. “If you don’t want to keep it…”
I’m not prepared for her arms to wrap around my waist or the press of her cheek against my back. “We’re keeping it. Why would you even say such a thing?”
Indescribable.
There isn’t a word for the way my anxiety pops like a water balloon, relief flooding my chest—heavy and overwhelming. Blowing out a breath, I bow my head and tug her arms around me tighter. “I just want you to know I support whatever decision you make, Little Rabbit.”
“We were just getting to a good place,” she murmurs. “Like I said, the timing just sucks. I would’ve liked to have you to myself for a few years before I have to share you.”
Her warmth chases the cold lingering in my ribs. Maybe it’s the hormones, maybe she’s finally ready to commit. Either way, her admission makes me the happiest man alive.
Gently, I turn, cupping her cheek as she tilts her face up to me. There’s no doubt in her gaze—only trust and acceptance. “Usually it’s the man saying that to the woman.”
“Don’t be misogynistic, Hunter. We both know how feral I get over you now.” Her fingers thread into my hair and tug me down.
“Now? Try always,” I laugh. “Now, I’m just afraid I’ll have to keep you from murdering any woman who looks at me sideways.”
Moss darkens to deep forest pine, and her nails catch in my curls. “Then you’d better tell Gwendolyn to watch herself.”
She lets go and spins toward her clothes. I ask the same question I always dread. “Does this mean you’re ready to give your heart to me, Little Rabbit?”
Silence hangs between us, my gaze locked on a watercolor print of a famous painting hanging on the wall while she dresses. When she’s finished, she startles me by grabbing my hand, turning me to face her. “Come on. I want a bacon maple milkshake and fries. And—”
“Bacon maple milkshake? That sounds… absolutely disgus—”
Her glare kills the word, and I lift my hands in surrender. “My apologies. Carry on, baby mama.”
Her gaze softens, lashes fluttering—like a butterfly testing its wings. As if I’ve just reminded her we created a tiny human currently residing in her belly.
“And then I have something I need to tell you,” she says softly.
Fuck. Nothing good ever comes from a woman saying those words.
Well, shit. It was nice while it lasted.
I love that Bunny has an appetite. She’s never been afraid to eat in front of anyone, and I find that highly attractive.
What I don’t find attractive is the way she gnaws on the crystallized bacon that came with her milkshake like it’s a dildo for her mouth. Give me food porn all day—I don’t judge. But there’s something that has always inherently grossed me out about bacon.
Gooey maple drips from the slab of crisped meat, glazing her lips in burnt-gold sap. All of it should have my dick hard and ready to pour my milky sap into her mouth, however, I can’t help picturing the poor piggy who died to make that milkshake.
I don’t realize my drink is gone—and that the loud slurp of an empty straw belongs to me—until her annoyed gaze snaps to mine. “What is your problem?”
“Are you planning on feeding our kid pig often? Or is this topic up for debate? Because I don’t eat pork, as you well know.”
“You will have to pry bacon from my cold, dead hands. There’s no way I’m giving it up.
I can do without most other pork products, but bacon?
Hard no. So yeah, our kid is going to eat bacon.
” She makes a show of licking the syrup from bottom to top before aggressively crunching the end between her teeth, smirking as she chews.
Pepper clucks in her pen in my dining room. Yasha and Maru sit on the other side of the wire, cocking their heads every time she makes a sound. Yasha’s tail wags excitedly as he watches his new friend, but Maru and Pepper despise each other, so we keep them separated unless we’re watching closely.
When we introduced the dogs to the chicken a few days ago, I wasn’t sure what to expect.
Yasha sniffed her and barked playfully while Pepper didn’t mind his curiosity.
Maru, however, put her at the top of his shit list when she snapped at Bunny for trying to pet her.
Poor Pepper is two tail feathers short now, and Maru won’t let his mother near the pen.
“Adding pork to the list of things to talk about, then. Noted.” I pop a fry in my mouth before hesitantly venturing into territory I’m not sure I want to explore. “So, what did you need to tell me?”
Pink blooms across her cheeks, popping her freckles and the rainbow foil hearts over her scar. Nervousness rolls off her as she swallows hard and sets the bacon down.
“Hunter, I—”
“Little Rabbit, you don’t have to be worried about telling me whatever it is.” I swivel on my stool to face her, tugging hers closer until she has no choice but to face me, too. Gathering her sticky hands, I kiss her knuckles and drop our entwined fingers to my thighs.
“You might feel differently when you hear it.” She drags in a breath, eyes fixed on my chest, then exhales slowly. After another breath, her gaze meets mine. “I was pregnant… before… when I was with Nathaniel.”
An ice pick lodges in my heart, but I keep my face neutral even as the shock hits. “What, uh…” I clear my throat around the words. “What happened?”
Her fingers tense. Silver rims her lashes. “I never wanted a baby with him. Maybe at first, before I knew who he really was. But when it happened, I knew it wasn’t what I wanted.”