Becka Mack

steam, swoon, and happily ever afters
  • Becka Mack

Consider Me Bonus Chapter 01 | It'll be fine

01 | It'll be fine



Carter


“Ollie forgot her pills in Vancouver.”


My buddy Mitchell simply stares at me from his spot on the edge of his bed, his fingers running down the back of the cute ginger in his lap, blue eyes wide like he’s waiting for me to go on. Wasn’t that explanation enough though?

His mouth finally quirks. “Okay?”

Okay? Pfft. Figures. Baseball players. Have to spell everything out for them.

“Well, we’ve been fucking with condoms while we’ve been at her parents’ place this week,” I explain. When Mitchell’s girlfriend, Isla, starts shaking with laughter, I backtrack. “Sorry, sorry. Making love. We’ve been making love with condoms all week.”

Olivia and I have been visiting her parents in her hometown of Muskoka this past week, about two hours away from Toronto where Mitchell lives. I only get to see him once or twice a year, because even when I’m in town playing Toronto, half the time he’s out of the country, either in Georgia for the off-season, or on an away series with his professional baseball team, the Toronto Jays.

We thought we’d pop by for a visit, but the problem is some of us are very forgetful. Like, Ollie forgot her birth control pills back in Vancouver, and then she forgot to pack the condoms when we left her parents’ place to come stay with Mitch.

Okay, it might’ve been me.

It was me.

I scratch my hair. “I might’ve forgot…I got a little…distracted…this morning when we left. She was packing her undies, and they’re, like, these lacy, tiny little—”

“Carter.” Mitchell gives me a pointed look that indicates I might be sightly too candid right now.

“Right. Need to know. Gotcha.” I deflate with my exhale. “I forgot to pack the condoms. Do you have one?”

Isla snickers, and Mitchell cracks a grin, shaking his head. “Sorry, dude.”

My face falls. “Fuck. What am I gonna do?”

Isla’s eyes meet mine, glittering with amusement. “You could try not having sex for one night?”

A sound of disbelief puffs out, laced with disgust. Listen, I really like Isla. She laughs at everything I say, and when I say something that gets me in trouble, she just laughs harder. She’s awesome, but right now? Right now she’s way the fuck out of line.


“Okay, Isla, lemme just not have sex with my sexy, half-drunk, mostly naked fiancée.” I mean, for fuck’s sake, Olivia’s splayed out in her bikini on the bed in the spare room right now, just waiting for me to rock her world. I look at Mitch, my palms up as I flick a pointed glance at his girlfriend. What the fuck, Mitch?

He looks as amused as Isla. “You could just…pull out?”

I clap my hands then point at him with two finger guns. “Pull out! Genius! Why didn’t I think of that? Just gotta convince Ollie.” My eyes roll as I snort. “She thinks I have no self-control.” Trust me, the air quotes are necessary.

I’m already halfway down the hallway when I hear Isla mumble, “He won’t pull out,” and I can’t believe no one has faith in me.

I slip into our temporary bedroom and close the door behind me, blowing out a deep breath as I prepare to face my lovely lady with this less-than-ideal news. It doesn’t really matter to me, but it’ll probably matter to her, and she makes most of the decisions in our relationship.


I’m in control, of course, but…you know.

“Okay, so.” Bracing my hands out in front of me, I suck in a sharp inhale that’s meant to be steadying. Olivia’s kinda scary sometimes, despite her tiny doll-like frame. I shrug, palms up, like this here is no big deal. I’m not sure she’ll feel that way. “He doesn’t have a condom.”

I watch Olivia’s face fall with her little pout, the one I always wanna kiss right off her face. “Okay.” She sighs, shoulders sagging, then pulls my hoodie off her body, revealing her teensy tiny bikini. I grin, ’cause I was wrong and now I’m about to get some.

Except she stands, smiles as she walks toward me, pats my stomach, and then…strolls right on by.

“What are you doing? Where are you going?” Do I sound frantic?

She pauses in the bathroom door, pointing inside, brows raised just slightly like the answer is obvious. “To take a shower.”

“But I—we—aren’t we—you can’t—” I frown and grab my dick. The way he twitches in my palm tells me he’s as heartbroken as I am right now. “You’re not gonna take the sword of thunder for a ride? You know he always treats you right.”

Olivia gestures at the closed bedroom door. “You said he didn’t have a condom.”

“Well, yeah, but…” I scratch a hand through my hair. I smell like chlorine and the coconut sunscreen Olivia made me put on twice today, despite the fact that I tan like a golden god. She doesn’t like when I say that, though. “We always have sex without a condom.”

She pins her arms across her chest, pushing her perfect tits up in her emerald-green bikini until they’re at serious risk of spilling out. I love accidents, so I’m here for it. If they fall, I’ll catch them. “I’m also always on the pill, but I haven’t taken it all week.”

I cross my arms right back. “Well, whose fault is that?”

“If you weren’t going through my bag while I was trying to pack it, holding up every pair of underwear I put in there and examining them as if you hadn’t ever seen them before, I wouldn’t have forgot it!”

“Well, stop buying sexy underwear then!”

Olivia folds forward as she bursts with laugher, and I smile triumphantly. I love making her laugh. Prowling toward her, I sweep her into my arms, one hand sliding into her hair, the other slipping up her back, fingers inching toward that string I’m desperate to pull free.

“I just wanna show you how much I love you.” I press the whispered words against her ear as I twist her back and forth, winding that string around my finger.

“I already know how much you love me, Carter. You never fail to show me.” She lovingly pats the lump in my swim trunks that’s begging for freedom. “But if you really wanted to show me tonight, you shouldn’t have forgotten to pack the condoms when we left my parents’ place this morning.”

I bury my groan in her neck. “What if your dad finds them? He’s gonna know we’re having sex.”

Olivia freezes beneath me before her laughter bursts in my ear and her entire body starts vibrating in my hold. Pushing away from me, she places a palm over my chest, giving me a few reassuring thumps. “Oh, Carter. You’re so adorable.” She presses up on her toes and drags my lips to hers. “I’m gonna go shower.”

“Fine,” I grumble, watching her disappear. I’m not proud of what I do next.

Actually, that’s a lie. I’m always proud.

That’s why when the shower shuts off and I hear Olivia humming along while she dries off, I’m trying not to laugh.

“Carter. What the hell are you doing?”

I toss a heated stare over my shoulder and bat my lashes. “What?” I follow her gaze down to my bare ass. “Oh. This?” I pump it twice, give it a little flex. “Just getting ready for bed.”

“You are not getting ready for bed. You’re lying there naked, looking a lot like you’re posing for the cover of a magazine.”

I wag my brows. “Like what you see, huh?”

She rolls her eyes, dropping the towel from around her body, making my eyelids hood. Water drips from her thick, dark curls, drizzling down her chest, making her nipples pebble.

I flip onto my back and gesture down the length of my body with the sweep of my hand. “Looks like you want some of this.”

She goes about her business getting ready for bed, ignoring me, the little devil.

Oliviaaa,” I groan, starfishing on the bed. My dick bobs around, trying to help me out by saying hello. “Pay attention to meee.”

“I swear to God,” she mumbles, more to herself than anything, I think. “You are such a child.” Her head cranks and she points at me. “Speaking of children, that’s why you’re gonna have to tuck that thing away and wait twenty-four hours to use it. We’re getting married in four-and-a-half months. I have no intention of being pregnant at our wedding.”

“I’ll pull out,” I whine, crawling onto my knees, making my way to the edge of the bed. I grab hold of her hip, yanking her toward me, and rest my forehead on her stomach. “Please, Ollie. Let me love you.”

“Never have you ever pulled out.”

“I’ve never tried.” Truth, even the first time we had sex. Probably not a good call, considering we were both drunk and definitely should’ve been wearing a condom, but when the pussy is crack, who can blame me?


I press my lips to her warm skin, dotting it in kisses, and peer up at her, hitting her with those puppy dog eyes she loves/hates. They always work on her; she’s a sucker. “You know I never fail at anything when I put my mind to it.” Another truth; otherwise, I’d be Ollie-less. But here I am, a few months away from marrying my fucking queen and my only dream.


I always know when I’ve cracked Olivia. Her eyes roll heavenward in slow motion, and she unpins her arms, dropping them to her sides, her shoulders falling with her heavy, loud sigh.


She pushes my hair back from my forehead. “You’re relentless.”


“Yes.”


“It wasn’t a question.”


“Also yes.”


“Carter, you have to—”


“Yeah, yeah.” I wind an arm around her waist and toss her down to the bed before crawling over her. “Pull out, don’t get you pregnant, we’re getting married, blah, blah, blah.” I drag the tip of my cock through her slit—already wet; she thought she was gonna hold out on me?—and brush a soft, slow kiss across her lips. “I donno how I wanna take you right now. Any special requests?” I like having a whole night in front of me, hours upon hours to worship every inch of her and take snack breaks in between.

“We’re in somebody else’s house and there are, like, eight different people here. I suggest fast and quiet.”


I push two fingers inside of her, enjoying the way her head lolls back into the pillows with her sharp inhale. “Fast and quiet? Fuck that.”


Olivia’s fingers curl around my hair as her hips move, taking my fingers deeper. “Just fuck me, Carter.”


A slow smile curves my lips. “Fuck you? Are you begging, Ollie girl? But just two minutes ago—” Shock disintegrates my words when Olivia shoves me backward with two tiny, strong hands, and mounts me. “Ohhh-ho-ho,” I murmur. “Somebody’s eager.”


“Shut up.” With my cock in her hand, she eases down my throbbing length, throwing her head back, tongue dragging across her lips, and I hiss as I jerk inside of her.


Gripping her hips, I—gently and respectfully, of course—slam her down the rest of the way.


“Carter,” she gasps out, fingernails biting into my shoulders, my chest. I don’t mind; I like those crescent-moon marks.


“Fit me like a fucking glove,” I murmur. She feels like crushed velvet as she squeezes around me, bringing me deeper, taking every bit of me she can manage. I slide my hand up her smooth back and tangle my fingers in her wet hair as I bring her face down to mine. “I think you were made just for me, Ollie girl.”


“I think so too,” she manages, all rasp. “It feels like it, at least.”


“I’m gonna make sure you never forget it.”


A grin blooms as her tongue pokes out, licking at the corner of her perfect pink lips. I especially like when they’re wrapped around my cock, but I also enjoy just kissing them, or watching the way they move when she’s barking at me for something I did, like eating all the cookies or hiding something up high so I can watch her ass wiggle in the air while she climbs up on a stool.


“How are you gonna do that, Mr. Beckett?”


I pick her hand up off my chest, kissing the finger that dawns my promise to love her forever. “This ring was the first step and changing your last name in a couple months will round that out nicely.” I tweak one pert nipple and clap a hand to her ass. “Tattooing my name on your ass would also be acceptable, but I’m not sure you’re ready to go there.”


She huffs a chuckle, eyes closing as she sucks her bottom lip into her mouth, leaning in closer as she climbs toward her peak. I know I can draw at least two orgasms out of her before I can’t hold off anymore, so I reach forward, brushing my thumb over her swollen clit, and watch as her mouth opens on a gasp.


“More,” she whimpers, and I give her what she wants, because how could I not?


Rubbing her clit, I watch my beautiful girl as she bounces and rocks, grinds and swivels. She drags her nails down my chest as she falls forward, shaking.


“Look at me,” I demand quietly, and she does. Her face lifts, cheeks flushed as her gaze locks on mine, and the second she starts crying out my name, I yank her off me, flip her onto her hands and knees, and plow back inside of her.


Olivia buries her scream in a pillow, fisting the sheets, and it’s everything I can do to resist slapping her round ass. She’s right; we’re guests here, and there are other people. No need to give them all a show, as much as I love showing off.


I sweep her hair over her should, mouth dipping to her ear. “I wanna paint your ass with my handprint and fuck you over and over again, until your pussy memorizes the shape of my cock inside you, looks for me every time I’m not there.”


“Carter,” she cries.


“That’s how I’m gonna make sure you never forget that you were made for me.”


A tingle starts in the base of my spine, climbing up, ready to score. But I need to see Olivia’s face when I come, so I pull out, push her onto her back, pry her legs apart, and thrust inside her.


“Fuck. Fucking love fucking you, almost as much as I love loving you.” My mouth closes over her breast, taking her inside. With my teeth, I tug and nip and she sinks her fingers into my hair, holding me there. She clings to me with her legs, heels digging into my ass, pushing me deeper. “Come for me, baby.”


I swallow her moans as my tongue takes hers, takes everything I can from her. I want it all, every single bit of her. Maybe that’s why my brows furrow when I pull back and look at her stunning face. Maybe that’s why my fingers tighten around her hips, keeping her locked in place as I buck into her, over and over again, like I can’t stop, like I can’t…do what I promised her I’d do.

My mouth falls open in horror as I realize how utterly out of control I am.

As if reading my thoughts, Olivia’s eyes widen, fear swirling in that piercing, dark coffee gaze. “Don’t you dare,” she growls lowly, in a way that makes me more scared than I already am, and yet, utterly turned on. As if I wasn’t already.

“I’m sorry,” I cry out.

Her head starts wagging, shaking. “Carter! Don’t you dare! My dress!”

“I can’t help it!” I’m trying; I swear to fucking God. I squeeze my eyes shut, gripping her hips, fingertips digging in, trying to push away and pull her closer all at once. “Ollie, I can’t! I’m so sorry! I can’t!”

“My dress!” she just keeps shouting. “I already bought my wedding dress!”

“Please don’t be mad at me,” I beg, burying my face in her neck, her hair, my hips jerking. Olivia meets every thrust, her hands clamping down on my ass, nails biting, because if I’m not in control, neither is she.

Her body trembles beneath mine, and her whimpering moan only spurs me on, drawing one hell of a rocket of an orgasm out of me. My mouth opens on her neck, stifling my cry on her damp, slick skin as I thrust into her one, two, three more times before I come inside her.

“Fuck.” I collapse onto my back on the mattress, sweaty and breathless. “Woo. That was intense.” I pull my tired, angry fiancée into my chest, kissing her sweaty forehead. “Love you, pumpkin. Don’t worry. It was only the one time. Nobody gets pregnant off one time.”


I give her perfect ass two pats. “It’ll be fine.”


Five Weeks Later

“It’s not fine, Hank!”

“It’s absolutely fine, Carter. I don’t need a microwave in my room.” He wiggles his fingers in front of his face. “Can’t even see what damn buttons I’m pressing, anyway.”

I toe at the boxed microwave at my feet. “What am I supposed to do with this?”

My old friend just shrugs. “Take it back to the store? I don’t know why you bought it anyway. I told you not to. Told you I wasn’t allowed. You already threatened the poor staff just to get them to allow me to keep my coffeemaker.”

I scoff, rolling my eyes and planting my hands on my hips. “I’d hardly call it threatening.”

“What do you call casually mentioning your media influence, how many live interviews you get, and how you’d hate to accidentally—” his air quotes are perfectly placed, “—say the wrong thing at the wrong time?”

I swallow my snicker, sinking down to the chair beside Hank. “It’s not my fault they took it the wrong way.”

Hank sighs as he scratches behind Dublin’s ears. “I miss my girl. Rarely do I go more than a couple days without a visit from her, and Olivia’s the only reason I keep you around, so it’s been tough. Still not feeling well?”

I frown to myself, rubbing my nape. “No. Think she’s got the flu or something. She was feeling a little better this morning and really wanted to see you, but we were worried about getting some of the other residents sick.”

“Worried about the other old farts, but not me?”

“You’re unbreakable, Hank.”

“You’ll give her a kiss and a hug for me?” he asks, the sincerity in his tone making me smile. He wormed his way into my life one terrible, drunken night that could’ve ended everything, my career, my life, someone else’s. Eighty-four years young, this man is one of my best friends, and with the smutty book club they formed, now one of my soon-to-be wife’s best friends too.

Fun fact: buy your girl all the smutty books her heart desires, and she’ll be so happy you’ll get to try all the fun things in them.

Back at home, Dublin pushes by me when we come in from the garage, making a beeline for his mom, I’m sure. He’s ultra-obsessed with Olivia and he can’t be blamed.


I hang my keys on the hook and step into the hallway, whistling. “Ollie girrrl,” I sing out.

When she doesn’t respond, I frown.

I’m unsurprised to find her curled up on the couch, Dublin already at her feet. My chest tightens at her pale face, the soda crackers on the table, the glass of Ginger Ale, all a sign that, even though Olivia felt better earlier this morning, it clearly didn’t last. Still, she’s a masterpiece asleep on the couch, wearing nothing but my t-shirt and a pair of panties.


I sweep her hair off her forehead and her lashes flutter, those dark chocolate eyes blinking up at me.

“Not feeling well again?” I brush my lips across her forehead. She’s cool and clammy, the faint tint of purple painting the delicate skin below her eyes gives way to how exhausted she is from this sickness that’s been kicking her ass this last week, barely granting her a break.

Olivia grunts, giving her head a tiny shake. Her eyes are bloodshot and bleary, so I don’t hesitate to slip one arm behind her knees, the other behind her back, and hoist her into my arms.

“Let’s get you to bed, pumpkin.”

She snuggles into my chest with a soft sigh. “How was Hank? I miss him.”

“He misses you too. He’s going to call you tonight to chat.”

Olivia hums quietly, eyes already closing again as I carry her upstairs. “I’d like that.”

I peel back the covers on our bed and tuck her gently inside, leaving only the sheet in place so that she doesn’t get too hot.

“Thank you, Carter,” she says quietly when I place a glass of water and a few pills down on the bedside table. “I hope I feel better so we can go to the drive-in tonight.”

“It’s okay, baby. We can go another night. I just want you to feel better.” I only wanted an excuse to fuck her in the backseat anyway, not actually watch the movie, but sex feels like it might need to wait a day or two until she’s up on her feet again.

I press a kiss to her forehead and make my way to the door, but the soft call of my name has me turning back to her. “Yeah, baby?”

Her tired smile is still broad as hell. “I love you.”

My heart thumps. “I love you, too, Ollie girl.”

Olivia sleeps for an hour, then two. I check on her at lunchtime, but she’s still sleeping soundly, so Dublin and I head out for a hike. When we get home, he’s covered in mud and needs a bath. Olivia’s still passed out, so I videotape me doing it. I fucking suck at it and Dublin likes to make it extra difficult for me, and Olivia likes to stand in the doorway and watch, laughing. I want to make her laugh today.

I’m balls-deep in a COD mission with Emmett, Adam, and Garrett when I hear the quiet creak of the stairs, the pad of Olivia’s bare feet in the hallway.

I throw my head over my shoulder and grin when she appears at the edge of the living room. “You’re alive!”

I think so, at least. She looks a little like she’s just seen a ghost, still in my t-shirt, her creamy legs shifting back and forth while she holds something in her hands. She licks her lips and opens her mouth, but then closes it.

“You okay? You gonna be sick again?”

“Ollie’s still sick?” Adam asks in the left ear of my headset. “Have you been cooking again?”

“I’m a great cook,” I shoot back, but the face Olivia’s making has me decently afraid right now. I can’t tell if she’s going to cry or tear my head off for something. She’s both emotional and scary, so it’s a complete tossup.

“Carter,” she finally manages, just barely. “We need to talk.”

“Oooh,” Emmett coos in my ear.

“Ruh-roh,” Garrett murmurs out his best Scooby Doo. “Someone’s in trouble.”

Yeah, clearly. The only problem is I don’t know what for. My mind starts working, cataloguing everything I’ve done today that might’ve inadvertently pissed off my wonderful fiancée. Did I eat the last Oreo? I might’ve eaten the last Oreo. That’s all I can think of.

“I’ll get you another package,” I blurt out. “I’m sorry.”

Olivia’s brows pinch. “What? No, I…no.” She shakes her head and shifts on her feet again, crushing whatever it is she’s clutching in her hands.

“What’s that, Ol?”

She looks down at the object, swallowing. “Carter, I…we need…” Her gaze coasts up, anxious eyes holding mine. “Can you turn off your game?”

Oh, fuck. What did I do? What the hell did I do? I resist the urge to scrub my skin right off my face, instead nodding a hundred times as I pull off my headset, trying to ignore the snickers from my teammates before I turn the game right off.

“Do you wanna come sit here?” I point to the spot beside me on the couch. “Or should I come there? Should I stand? Do you want me to stand? Should I stay sitting? Are you breaking up with me? You’re not breaking up with me. You already said yes. You have to spend the rest of your life with me. You-you…you can’t. You can’t take it back. Should I stand?”

I’m already standing, approaching her like she’s a feral animal backed in a corner, my hands up, partly in surrender, partly as a precaution, in case she needs to be restrained. You never know. I like to be prepared for any and all scenarios, and I don’t have time to Google this one.

I come to a stop in front of Olivia, towering over her. She sways backward, just a half-step. I don’t like distance, though, so I match her half-step with one of my own, which is, like, five of hers.

I point to the white stick in her hands. “What’s that?”

“It’s a-a-a…it’s a…” She pulls it against her stomach, like she’s rethinking showing it to me, and swipes at a bead of sweat that gathers at her hairline.

“Are you nervous? Why are you nervous? Shouldn’t I be nervous? I thought I was the one in trouble. You said we need to talk, Carter.” I say the words in my best Olivia voice, but her lips only wobble, not smile, and I’m borderline terrified now.

My gaze drops to the stick, watching it shake in her hands, and I make a face when I spy that yellow tip, the clear lid that covers it, slightly foggy. “Is that pee? Why is that—” My jaw unhinges, and I swear to God, my eyes nearly roll right the fuck out of my face. “Is that pee, Olivia? It’s-it’s-it’s—” I shake my head. “No. It’s not…it’s…is it…” I shove my finger at the stick. “Did you pee on that?”

Olivia takes a step forward and I take one back. “Carter, it’s—”

It’s pee on a stick.” It’s also a half-shriek. I only know of one reason why girls pee on sticks. My stomach hurts. I think I might vomit. Is Olivia contagious? Oh, God. I start circling the kitchen island. I’m not sure why, and Dublin’s not either, but he’s here for it. He trails my heels and we circle it three times, stopping in front of Olivia each time, opening my mouth to say something, then closing it and going for another loop.

“Carter—”

“It’s negative, right? It says no? But now you wanna try? You wanna try now, Ollie? We can try. That’s cool. Might take a while though, you never know. I don’t even know if my boys can swim. You wanna wait ’til after the wedding? Or you wanna—” I point down the hall and force my brows to wag, “—try right now?”

Olivia’s face softens, the fear in her own gaze dissipating when she recognizes my need for her. Because that’s what this is right now: I need her, and she knows it. I need her to hold my hand and tell me everything’s gonna be okay, because I don’t know if it will be.

She places her tiny hand on my chest, right over my heart. “Take a deep breath, baby.”

I do, twenty-seven hundred times, and it’s not helping. “Ollie,” I half-cry.

The smallest smile tips her mouth, right there in the corner, and she wraps her arms around my middle, cuddling into my chest. I hear the stick drop down to the counter behind me before I feel her hands on my back, rubbing slowly up and down, and I bury my face in her hair.

“Maybe you read it wrong,” I whisper.

“Maybe,” she murmurs back. I can tell she’s only placating me. “Do you want to read it for me?”

I swallow; it’s audible as hell. “Okay.” I shuffle my feet a little unwillingly as Olivia spins us until she’s pressed between me and the counter. I flick my gaze toward the stick laying upside down just by her waist, then back to her. “Right there?”

“Right there.”

“Okay.” I take a deep breath, loosening my hold on her. “I’m going in.” Ha. Going in. Get it? That’s what got us into this mess in the first place. I’m gonna go ahead and keep that thought to myself though. “I bet you read it wrong. You’re getting older, Ollie. I’ve been telling you, you need reading glasses.”

Her eyes narrow, lips pursing, and the voice in my head tells me to shut the fuck up.

“Okay. Alright. Here we go. Picking it up.” I slide that little stick into my grasp, swallowing it whole in my fist. When I open my hand, I chuckle. “Oh. It’s upside down.”

Olivia stares up at me, patient like she always is.

“Okay. Turning it over. I…am…turning it overrr.” Clearing the tightness in my throat, I flip the stick between my fingers. And I snort. “Yeah, it’s negative, Ol. You read it wrong. See, it says right here.” I tap on the tiny picture that tells me that two lines mean pregnant, and one line means not fucking pregnant. “There’s only one line.” I pat her head. “It’s okay, Ollie. I got you.”

Her teeth clack together when her jaw slams shut “There’s two windows, Carter.” She points to the first one, super big with a bright pink line. Then she points to the tiny window beside it, the one with the—

“Oh, fuck.” The test slips from my fingers, clattering to our feet. Dublin runs in, sniffing at it. I take a step backwards, then another, my eyes falling to Olivia’s stomach as I wind a pointing finger around in that general direction. “You-you-you—”

We.”

“We-we-we—” I shake my head. “There’s a…there’s a…” My chest is tight. Why can’t I breathe properly? I start flapping at my throat. “I can’t breathe. Ollie, I can’t breathe.”

She steps toward me, arms out. “Carter, it’s gonna be okay.”

“Okay?” I keel over, clutching at my knees, sucking in air. I don’t feel like it’s going where it needs to. “Am I having a heart attack?” I clutch at my stomach and my chest. “My tummy hurts, Ollie.”

“It’s okay,” she just keeps repeating. Her hand covers mine on my stomach, the other moving over my back. “Just breathe with me. In through your nose, out through your mouth.”

It’s not working!” I scream, making Olivia jump. My eyes widen. “Oh no.”

“What?”

I don’t respond, just push away from her and take off like lightning down the hallway. I burst through the bathroom door, whipping open the toilet seat as my knees hit the cold marble floor, and I empty the entire contents of my stomach into that porcelain bowl.

A cold, damp washcloth covers the back of my neck, and a glass of water appears by my side, along with Olivia’s cute little toes, painted light blue with a white daisy on both big toes. I painted the flowers for her last night and they look like shit, but Olivia tells me she loves them.

“You’re growing a baby!” I’m not sure if I’m screaming or crying. It might be both.

“It looks that way,” Olivia says cautiously, like she’s not sure if this is good news or bad news. I know it’s my fault. I’m not reacting properly, but I don’t fucking know how.

“I’m so happy!” Still scream-crying. Also puking. I drop my face in the toilet bowl and have at it one more time.

“Yeah…I can see that…”

“You already bought your wedding dress!”

“Sure did,” she murmurs, and that hint of a smile starts creeping up her face. Until it stops. Her expression falls, eyes wide, and her hands fall to her belly.

“What?”

Olivia covers her mouth and flees the bathroom, footsteps thumping up the stairs before I register the sound of her heaving, in the exact same position I’m in.

It’ll be fine!” I shriek after her. “Everything will be fine!”


*


I hope you enjoyed this bonus chapter about how surprise baby Beckett came to be! Did Carter react the way you thought he would? Let me know in the comments below.

how do you think Carter reacts at their first ultrasound? I might be easily persuaded to share part 2 with you sooner rather than later...

who are Mitchell and Isla?
Mitchell and Isla are the couple from finding home, book #1 in my baseball series. finding home will be published next spring, and if you haven't already met them in my first draft, I can't wait for you to meet these two in their polished copy. their story is steamy af, so sweet it hurts, and a touch heartwrenching.




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