“I’m not . . .” She licked her lips nervously, her body quivering from deprivation, desperate to be filled by him again. Did he feel it? Could he feel the trembling of her flesh—so close to his—that longed to suck him back inside and feel him moving within her? “I’m not on the pill.”
“Christ,” he muttered, falling onto his back. As he stared at the ceiling, panting, he laid a palm on his forehead. “Why didn’t you say something?”
The chill in his voice hurt worse than she could have imagined. Was the thought of having a child with her so repulsive? Tears sprang to her eyes, and she pulled the sheet over her exposed breasts.
“Why didn’t you?”
“Because I . . . Fuck, the truth? I wasn’t thinking about anything except how badly I wanted you.” He sighed loudly. “Fuck.”
Margaret sniffled softly, rolling to her side and putting her back to him. The reality? After their lovemaking earlier, she could be pregnant right now. Though it was unlikely, based on her cycles, technically it was possible. And though having a baby was an almost aching desire, she wouldn’t have necessarily chosen to get pregnant unengaged, unmarried, on the very first night that she and Cameron had sex.
Then again, her life wasn’t exactly going according to schedule right now. Quitting Story Imports and making The Five Sisters her life hadn’t been an immediate plan either, and yet, when she thought about her future now, she was happier than she’d been in a long time. And truthfully, having Cameron’s children had been one of Margaret’s most secret, most favorite dreams for a long, long time.
It really came down to one question: was she ready? If she was pregnant with his baby right now, was she ready to be a mother?
The truth washed over her like warm rain, divine and wholesome and inescapable: She was. She was ready. Though her father would disapprove, it didn’t matter. The life Margaret wanted—the life she could love with every fiber of her being—was finally falling into place, and a child with the man she loved would only make it more perfect. Even if Cameron didn’t want the child, she did.
His hand was gentle on her back. Soothing. Placating.
“I’m so fucking sorry about this.”
He was sorry. Oh God, had it ever hurt so badly to hear that word? Leaning away from him, she couldn’t help the tear that slid over her nose, onto her pillow.
“I promised I wouldn’t hurt you. I promised you were safe with me. I promised you would have no regrets, and—”
Wait a second! Wait a— She flipped back over to face him, her brows furrowing with confusion.
“Cameron, why are you sorry?”
“Because you could be pregnant. Because I could have gotten you fucking pregnant, and I—”
“Wait. Are you . . . I mean . . . just tell me this: do you want kids?”
“Yeah. I mean, of course . . . someday.”
“My kids?” she asked, her heart in her throat.
He flinched.
“Don’t lie to me,” she warned him, searching his eyes, with hopefulness but uncertainty.
“Fuck yes,” he whispered, the intensity in his voice strong under a veneer of self-disgust. “Of course I want to have kids with you. I’d love ten kids with you, if you want to give them to me. But believe me, I wasn’t trying to trap you into—”
“Cameron, are you under the impression that I don’t want your children? That being pregnant with your child would be . . . upsetting to me?”
He gulped, and a flash of hurt passed over his eyes, so stark and desperate, her heart clutched. “We only just got together. I know I move at the speed of light, but I can’t imagine that you would want—”
“Imagine it,” she whispered, her voice breaking. “Because there is no world, no universe in which I don’t want your child growing inside me.”
His eyes flared, widening with understanding, before he blinked at her once, twice, and then his face crumbled with emotion as he reached for her blindly and pulled her into his arms.
“Meggie,” he said softly, his breath kissing her ear as he held her tightly against his trembling body. “Meggie.”
Her name was a prayer.
Her name was hope.
Her name was love.
Her name was enough.
***
Morning light poured into Margaret’s bedroom from the doll house–like window over her bed, and Cameron breathed deeply, adjusting his grip on the woman pressed against him. After they’d assured each other once again that, although a pregnancy would be unplanned, it wouldn’t be unwelcome, they’d made love two more times, once fast and furious—a mixture of relief and celebration—and once with exquisite tenderness, staring into each other’s eyes and pledging their very lives to each other as they climaxed together in blissful delight, riding out the tremors and falling asleep in each other’s arms.