Already, he felt out of control. That’s what children were—just a clusterfuck of disarray and irrational behavior. They couldn’t be reasoned with.
Not his little girl, though. She’d be an angel.
Beau breathed hard through his nose, his insides running amuck. No, not his little girl, who was going to be as loved and revered as her mother.
He looked down at Lola, whose expression had morphed from anxious to horrified.
“What?” he asked. “Are you afraid of my reaction?”
Her face tightened up along with her jaw, her shoulders. “No.” The wetness in her eyes evaporated. “You want this baby, Beau Olivier. Whether you know it or not.”
He couldn’t help his chuckle, even if it did sound a bit stiff. “I know it.”
She opened her mouth.
Beau didn’t let her speak. He dropped to his knees and slid up her top to expose her stomach. He cocked his head, examining the flawless, porcelain skin, the utter flatness of her abs. He glanced up at her. “You’re sure?”
She nodded, slow but exaggerated. “Since before I even took the test.”
Beau blinked lazily, feeling like he’d downed an entire bottle of his finest Scotch. “It’s a girl.”
Lola reared back a little, but he didn’t let go of her. Her loud and sudden scoff skittered into a disbelieving laugh. “Excuse me?”
He got up again, brushing off his knees. “It’s a girl. I’ve seen her.”
She wrinkled her nose, pulling her head back. “Okay. You’ve finally…snapped.”
He held her gaze, trying to stay serious, but he gave in and grinned. “That’s possible. But if this is insanity, I like it here. Fuck, do I like it.”
Her smile became hopeful, her face upturned to him like he was her sun. He knew without a doubt—he would never forget the beauty of this moment.
“You do?” she asked.
He took her face in his hands, felt her cheeks, her hair, ran the pad of his thumb over her bottom lip. “Is this too good to be real? Did I die in a plane crash on the way back from New Orleans?”
She took one of his hands and kissed his palm. “I’m so sorry I hurt you. Let me make it better. This is real. This is how it’s supposed to be.” She laced her fingers with his, watching them with a look of fascination. “Except you have one detail wrong. It’s minor, really.”
“What’s that?”
“We’re having a boy.”
He arched an eyebrow, glancing down between them and back at her. “It’s too early for you to know that.”
“
Call it a mother’s instinct.”
“Oh, mother’s instinct. Right.” He couldn’t wait another second—he leaned down and kissed her on the lips once, a second time. She tasted a certain way—a certain way he’d missed. “What should we name her?”
“Him.”
“Her.”
“I’m positive,” she said.
“I’ve never been more sure of anything,” he said.
“I guess we’ll see then, won’t we?”
How could she even doubt him? Did she have any idea who she was dealing with? Once he described the details of his dream—the soft black curls of his daughter’s hair, her giggle-drunk smile—Lola would see. Beau never ignored his instinct. After all, that was how they’d gotten there, on a cliff, on the brink of their lives, as night fell over the Grand Canyon. He’d seen a girl on a stage under a spotlight, and he’d known. That one. I won’t stop until I have her.
Afterword
Thank you for reading the Explicitly Yours Series.