Kristen Ashley - Fire Inside

I guessed Hop and I were entertaining Elvira and Malik.

That worked for me. I just hope it worked for Hop.

“Right. I’ll wait for your text.”

“Lanie?” she called.

“Right here, sweetie.”

“Keep hold of happy. You deserve it. It’s found you. Don’t let go,” she ordered.

I really loved Elvira.

“I’ll keep hold, honey.”

“Good,” she stated then, “Later, girl.”

“Later.”

She disconnected and I looked through the kitchen to the living room.

Tyra was bent at the waist, Cutter in front of her, and she was talking in his ear.

Tack was lounged back on my couch, motorcycle boots on my coffee table, arm thrown wide, bottle of beer in his hand, Rider on his knees beside his dad, leaning in but his hands were wrapped around a video game that he was resting on his dad’s chest.

But Tack’s eyes were aimed at his woman and he had that look in them.

The look of love.

My gaze drifted to Hop. He was seated almost exactly like Tack except his neck was twisted to look over the back of the couch, his eyes on me.

He had the same look in his eyes as Tack.

But it was all for me.

I felt my face get soft and I smiled.

I watched his face get soft and he smiled back.

Keep hold of happy… It’s found you. Don’t let go.

Finally, I understood.

I was wrong and Hopper was right.

You didn’t avoid having something beautiful because you were terrified of losing it.

You fought to keep it.

And when you got it, you kept hold.

I was going to keep hold.

Always.

Five months later…

I was done, coming down from my climax and grinding into Hop. He had his hands on my hips, fingers digging into my flesh, grinding me down harder when he groaned into my chest.

I was astride him, he was sitting up, my fingers were in his hair and, as he came, I wrapped my arms around his shoulders.

When he was done, he slid his hands up my back and glided his lips and mustache up my chest to my neck where his mouth worked.

I let the sweet feeling of Hop’s mouth moving on my skin sink in and decided it was time. Friday night. The weekend. Hop was mellow. He’d just come. I’d just come. I’d known for a week. He had to know.

I had to do it now.

“Uh… honey?” I called.

“Right here, lady,” he murmured into my neck.

“How are you, um… feeling?” I asked, seeking confirmation he was in a good place before I laid it out.

His head tipped back and I saw his lips tipped up.

“You seriously askin’ that shit?”

It was, perhaps, a stupid question.

Then again, my news was huge and it could bring on a variety of responses and I wanted a good one.

“Well—” I started.

He wrapped his arms around me as he answered. “My dick is buried in my woman’s wet tight cunt and I just came. How you think I’m feelin’?”

Okay, it was a stupid question.

“I need to tell you something,” I shared.

He registered the look on my face and stopped smiling. “What?”

Here we go.

“Well, remember when I started having those headaches and we thought it was about me going to counseling and dealing with all that stuff, but you made me go to the doctor and he did some tests and told me to try going off the pill for a while and then, after that, there were those two times things got, uh… heated and we didn’t exactly—”

I didn’t finish because Hop pulled me off his cock, flung me onto his waterbed and covered me with his body. Before I got my breath back, he framed my head with both his hands and dipped his face close.

“You tellin’ me you’re havin’ my baby?” he asked on a growl.

“Uh… yeah?” I answered but it came out like a question just in case this wasn’t happy news. I couldn’t tell by the growl or the body throw. I also rushed on, “I know this is soon. We haven’t been together long but I’m sure about us and I’m, like, really happy about this baby and—”

I didn’t finish again because Hopper rolled us and he did this twice, testing the waveless capacity of his waterbed, so we ended up across the bed and I was again on my back with Hop’s weight pinning me down. He reached out an arm, pulled open the drawer to his nightstand, rummaged around and suddenly my hand was up and he was sliding a classic, stunning, diamond solitaire set in a simple, slim white gold band on my finger.

I stared at the ring and stopped breathing.

“At Christmas, got Cherry to bullshit you about buyin’ you jewelry and got your ring size. Then I got that. Waited for a good time. Now sure as fuck is that good time,” he declared while I deep breathed.

But he wasn’t done.

“You’re movin’ in. Your house is nice, babe, but it’s nice for entertaining. You don’t raise a family in a house like that. You raise one in a house like this. So we’re raisin’ our family in this house. You’re also movin’ in and doin’ it now. Like, this weekend. And you best put your girls to work. You’re gonna have my name before you push out my daughter and they got work to do, they wanna get the wedding planned in time.”

There was a lot there but I started at the end.

“Your daughter?”

“God loves me. Proved it with Molly, Cody, and you. No way, your beauty, He’d give me a boy when you can give that to a girl and I can look at both of you the rest of my life.”

Oh my God.

That was so beautiful!

“Hopper,” I whispered.

“So she’s a girl,” he declared.

Oh dear. He was being unbelievably sweet and I had to say what I had to say.

But this was Hop. He’d spent months proving he understood so I knew he’d understand.

“Hop, honey,” I put my hand to his cheek and smiled a shaky smile. “I love the ring. It’s gorgeous. I’ll move in. I’m fine with that. Happy, no… thrilled, actually. That’s all good. But we can’t get married.”

His eyebrows snapped together and he asked, “Come again?”

“We can’t get married,” I answered carefully.

“Lady, you want to keep your name for business, do it. Don’t give a fuck. But everybody who lives under this roof has the name Kincaid. We’re a unit in every way we can be, starting with our name.”

God!

That was beautiful too.

He wasn’t making this easy.

“Hop,” I took in a breath then told him, “That’s not it.”

His eyes moved over my face for a second. I knew he again registered my look so he invited gently, “Tell me what it is.”

“I don’t really want this moment spoiled but, I had the ring, the gown, the whole big thing planned with Elliott and—”

“Okay.”

I blinked.

“What?”

“Okay,” he repeated.

Was he giving in?

“You’re okay with us not being married?” I asked hesitantly.

“You gonna live the rest of your life with me?”

My heart warmed, my body softened under his, and I felt tears sting my eyes. “Absolutely.”

“You’re happy about our baby?”

Oh yes, but happy was an understatement.

“Over the moon,” I whispered, though I didn’t tell him then I wanted a boy.

A boy that looked like him.

His mouth went soft and he dropped his forehead to mine.

“Then okay, lady.”

He was giving in.

“Okay, Hop.”

“Now kiss me.”

I lifted my head and kissed him.

After some time, he broke the kiss, his lips moving over my cheek to my ear as he lifted his hand up, palm cupping my cheek, thumb dragging at my lips.

“She’s havin’ my baby,” he murmured in my ear and my arms, already around him, squeezed.

“Yeah.”

“Makes me happy, Lanie.”

“Good.”

“You make me happy, lady.”

A tear rolled out of my eye and my voice broke on my repeated, “Good.”

He lifted his head and looked down at me. “Have it all now, I made a baby outta love.”

He was killing me.

“Stop making me cry and kiss me.”

Hop grinned.

It was the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen.

Then he did as ordered.

The next morning, way too early, I found myself with a bed head in the clothes I picked up from the floor, and in Hop’s Ram on my way to get donuts with my man.

I had no idea why I had to go. If Hop wanted donuts, he was perfectly capable of going alone and he well knew by now my order and backups if they didn’t have what I wanted, seeing as every weekend when his kids were at his house, Saturday morning we had LaMar’s donuts.

I also had no idea why I had to get up so freaking early to go. It was Saturday and anyway, LaMar’s kept stocked all day every day, especially Saturday.

Hop was insistent so I hauled myself out of bed, got dressed and there we were.

I was groggily staring out the window, sipping at a travel mug of coffee Hop planted in my hand on the way out of his house, and I watched LaMar’s coming closer.

Then I blinked as we passed.

“You passed it, honey,” I informed him, looking over my shoulder and watching LaMar’s get smaller in the distance.

“Give me your hand,” he said. Unthinking, I gave him my hand and looked at him.

“Are you going to a different LaMar’s or did you find another bakery?” I asked, hoping he was going to a different LaMar’s. If he was going to drag me out of the house to try a different bakery, I feared we’d have words.