Page 103 of Filthy Liar
I’m having a baby.
The girls all take a few steps back from me. Shawn hands the test back, and I shove it into my purse. I’m not sure what to do or say right now. I’m frozen in shock. We weren’t trying, but we weren’t careful either.
“We aren’t married,” I whisper.
Kyle lets out a snort. “He won’t care. He loves you, Dillion. If it were up to Clink, you’d be married.”
I shift my attention to Spencer, unsure of what to say to her. She’s Humble’s sister. She loves him more than anyone else in the world. I love him, but the bond they share is beyond anything I could ever give him.
He claims that her approval doesn’t matter, but I know it does in all things. I know Spencer likes me, but if she somehow didn’t approve of this, that would be tough.
“My brother would marry you tomorrow, Dillion. He loves you. We all love you. He’s only waiting because you asked him to.”
And I did.
Now I’m thinking that’s kind of dumb.
“What do I do?” I ask. “How do I tell him?”
Shawn clears her throat, and I flick my attention to her. She’s got her hands behind her back as she rocks on her heels, her lips curved up in what I can only describe as a wicked smile.
“Shawn?” I ask.
“Let me take care of telling him?” she asks.
My brows snap together in clear confusion, and she shakes her head. “On a dessert. You can give him the dessert.”
“Oh, I like the sound of that,” Ryan whispers. “Let’s do it.”
A few hours later, I have a box with six cupcakes in my hands, and I’m leaving the bakery and heading straight home to my man.
It’s been about eight months since I was allowed my freedom from the clubhouse. I’m assuming that all things are safe and there is no longer a bounty out for me, especially since it seems as if the Southern Mafia is no more.
Maybe one day, I’ll know for sure one way or the other, but Humble seems to think that all is fine, which is why he hasn’t had a guard following me around for at least three months.
It doesn’t take me long to get home. Pulling into the driveway, I smile at the exterior. Humble remodeled everything. If my brother’s vibe was anywhere in the house, it’s gone now.
The whole place was basically gutted and redone. I love everything about it now.
I’m glad I sold it to Humble.
With the box in my hand, I walk into the house. There is music playing loudly, some rock music, and I know he’s probably in the kitchen cooking. It’s become very clear over the past few months that I cannot cook to save my life, and Humble actually enjoys it.
We’re the perfect duo. He creates mouthwatering deliciousness, and I clean it up. Placing the box down on the bar countertop, I just watch him as he moves around the kitchen, his hips moving with the music, which makes my lips curve up into a smirk.
The song ends, and a new one begins. I didn’t think he knew I was home, but I should have known better. He turns to me, makes his way around the kitchen island, and wraps his arms around me.
Dipping his chin, he touches his lips to mine. “Missed you, baby. Ready for dinner?” he asks.
I don’t know how he misses me. I haven’t been gone long, just a few hours. But I have to admit that I missed him, too. I always miss him when he’s not right beside me. I love him more than anything.
“I’m ready,” I exhale.
Humble talks during dinner, which is great because I am so consumed with the pregnancy and cupcakes that I don’t know what to say. And I’m afraid I’m going to ruin everything if I talk.
“I brought dessert home,” I announce the moment he finishes his last bite of food.
Humble’s brow arches as he stares at me. I’m sure he’s surprised. Pushing the chair back, I practically run to the counter and grab the pink box, then wordlessly place it in front of him.