15. Banks
It’s been two weeks since Clover told me I'm going to be a father, and I still can't wrap my head around it.
I wake up every morning in her bed—though it's basically our bed now—and for about three seconds, everything feels normal. Then it hits me all over again: I'm going to be a dad. There's a tiny human growing inside the woman sleeping basically on top of me. A human we made together, one that’s half her and half me and it’s a straight up mindfuck.
A human that's turned me into a complete paranoid lunatic who's one internet search away from bubble-wrapping the entire apartment.
In fact, I’ve never seen her look more beautiful than she does right now—warm, sleepy, and carrying our baby.
My morning wood twitches against the thigh she’s got draped over my hips, but neither of us acknowledges it.
“Can’t help it,” I say, running a fingertip over the curve of her cheek, counting the scatter of freckles that’ve driven me crazy for years. The ones I’ve now memorized. “You sprouted more of these overnight. There’re at least three new ones.”
One eye cracks open. “Not possible.”
“It’s totally possible. Pregnancy does weird shit, Freckles. I read about it in one of the books."
She groans, dragging a pillow over her face. “If you quote another pregnancy book at me, I swear to God, I’ll scream. I thought I was the one with the organizational kink in this relationship.”
This relationship . Those words light me the fuck up inside. It’s like Christmas up in here right down to my bones. We haven't exactly defined what we are to each other—we’re too busy adjusting to the nuclear bomb that is "surprise, we're having a baby"—but I'm calling it a win that she's stopped insisting we made a mistake. That she’s letting me stay in her bed every night, even if she still pretends I’m technically living on her couch.
That’s Clover for you—stubborn as all hell.
“Speaking of kinks,” I murmur, sliding my hand beneath the blankets, settling it on the warm skin of her hip. “Have I mentioned how unbelievably sexy you are in the morning?”
Both eyes pop open. “We have an ultrasound in an hour.”
"Plenty of time." I counter, flipping our positions so she’s lying flat on the bed and ducking under the covers to press my lips to her stomach. "Morning, Peanut," I whisper against her skin before trailing kisses lower.
Clover's laugh turns into a gasp when I reach my destination. Her fingers tangle in my hair, tugging enough to make my cock throb as I nudge her panties to the side. "You're impossible."
“Mmm, that’s not what you said last night when you were screaming my name.”
"Banks." There's a warning in her voice, but it's undermined by the way her thighs fall open to give me better access.
“Clover.” I match her tone, arching a filthy smirk up the length of her body. “Let me make you feel good.”
She's putty in my hands after that—not that I'm keeping score—and by the time I've made her come twice, once with my mouth and once with my cock buried so deep inside her that I swear I feel my soul connect with hers, we're cutting it dangerously close to being late.
“This is your fault,” she accuses as we tear around the apartment looking for her other shoe. “I told you we didn’t have time.”
“Worth it.” I snag her by the waist as she rushes past, stealing a quick kiss. “The way you look when you come around my cock is my new favorite show. I’d watch it on repeat.”
Her face flushes that delicious shade of pink that makes me want to take her back to bed and start all over again. "You can't just say stuff like that."
"Why not? It's true."
"Because—" She stops, sighs. "Because it makes me want to climb you like a tree instead of going to this appointment."
Navy called it. "I'm one hundred percent on board with that plan."
"Banks." She swats my chest, but there's no heat in it. "This is serious. We're actually going to see our baby today."
The reality of her words sobers me right the hell up. Our baby . We're going to see it— him? her?— on a screen. Hear the heartbeat. Make it real in a way that nothing else has.
"Yeah," I say, suddenly just as serious as she is. "We are."
The look we exchange is loaded with everything we haven't said to each other yet. All the fear, the excitement, the absolute terror of stepping into this new chapter together. In that moment, I have a flash of clarity so strong it steals my breath: I want everything with this woman. The whole package. The picket fence, the rings, the happily ever after. Not just because she's carrying my child, but because she's the only person who's ever made me feel like I'm home just by existing.
But telling her that right now would send her running. If there's one thing I've learned about Clover James in the past six months, it's that she's as skittish as a wild animal when it comes to anything that threatens her independence.
So instead, I fish her missing shoe out from under the coffee table, present it with an exaggerated flourish like some knock-off Prince Charming, and say, “Come on, Freckles—let’s go see our kid.”
The waiting room at Dr. Reed Walker’s office is teeming with pregnant women, and I’m trying and failing not to stare. Not gonna lie, it's freaking me out a little, coming face to face with my future.
There’s one that’s gotta be at least six months along—belly sticking out like she swallowed a basketball. Another looks on the verge of popping any second—she can’t sit still for shit, probably because she’s so uncomfortable. Then there’s someone who doesn’t even look pregnant, like Clover, but her hand cradles her stomach in that instinctive, protective gesture that’s a dead giveaway.
Sure, I've seen plenty of pregnant women on calls—shit, I even delivered a baby once—but this is the first time I’m surrounded by them since learning I’ll be a dad.
Will this be us in a few months? It has to be, right? The alternative is unthinkable, and I break out in a cold sweat even at the brief thought something might happen to my baby. And how the hell is Clover's tiny body going to stretch out like that? She's already changing—her tits fuller in my hands, nipples so sensitive she gasps when I barely touch them. The nausea hits her hardest right when her shift at Ember should be starting but it’s there all the time. And she crashes at the most random times, just shuts down and passes out with zero energy left for anything but growing the tiny life inside her.
And it’s my job to protect them both, to do everything in my power to make sure they’re safe.
My knee’s going a thousand miles a minute, bouncing up and down while I pretend to read some parenting magazine I can’t focus on. Meanwhile, Clover’s the picture of calm beside me, scrolling through her phone and scribbling notes in that color-coded planner she carries everywhere and treats like the Holy Grail.
"You're making the whole bench shake," she says without looking up. "What's got you so worked up?"
"Nothing." Yeah, that’s a total lie. I'm freaking the fuck out but I'm not about to admit it. Not when I’m supposed to be here so she can lean on me. I’m trying to show her that I’m always going to show up and she can count on me. Losing my shit at the OBGYN’s office isn’t going to earn me any points toward winning her over and convincing her she needs me in her life.
“Banks.” Finally, she tears her eyes from her phone and hits me with that look—one eyebrow arched, seeing right through my bullshit. “Your leg’s bouncing so hard I’m getting motion sickness.”
I try to force my knee to stay still, but all that nervous energy just reroutes to my fingers, which start drumming against my thigh.
"I’m just thinking."
"About?" She's not letting this go. I shouldn’t have expected anything less.
“Whether I’ll be a good dad.” The words just fall out before I can stop them. I haven't told her about the nightmares screwing with my sleep. The ones where I'm working a forty-eight-hour shift and miss the birth completely. Where I'm just like my old man—physically present but mentally checked out, more committed to the job than to my family. Where Clover and the baby need me and I'm too busy pulling strangers from burning buildings to be there for them.
Her face goes all soft and sweet and she grabs my hand, lacing our fingers together. Her touch kills the storm in my head and I blow out a breath.
"You're going to be an amazing dad, Banks."
"How do you know?"
"Because I've seen how you are with people you care about." She squeezes my hand and I squeeze hers right back. "I've watched you for years, how protective you get. How you always show up, even when it's hard. Especially when it's hard."
The rush her words give me is like the high I get after we successfully rescue someone from a burning building but more. Bigger, Stronger.
“Yeah?” I can’t keep the stupid grin off my face. My chest feels like it’s about to burst wide open. Hell, I need to hear her say it again.
She rolls her eyes, but her gaze is dead serious. “Yes, dumbass. Our baby is lucky to have you.” Then her voice dips to this quiet whisper, and I have to lean in to hear her. “I’m lucky to have you, too.”
Holy shit. Did Clover James just admit she has feelings for me? After years of pretending she barely tolerates my existence? I want to yank her into my arms, kiss her until she’s breathless, maybe never let go. But before I can even wrap my head around what she said, a nurse steps into the waiting room and calls Clover’s name.
And just like that, we're being lead into an exam room.