2 months later

Los Angeles, California - July

One nice thing about having several bathrooms? The ability to pee in private and freak out accordingly.

I placed the cap back on the pregnancy test and shoved it into my pocket. Three more tests sat in the garbage beside the vanity, but by the fourth test, I was reasonably certain the positives weren't just evaporation lines.

Washing and drying my hands, I studied my reflection in the mirror. I smoothed my hair, drawing in a deep, calming breath just like I did in yoga class. This was a happy surprise. Not even a surprise, really. A predictable outcome given the sequence of events—honeymoon sex and lots of it, without any birth control. Not the biggest shock, either, given how I'd been experiencing something like PMS on steroids all week. My boobs were so sore that a light breeze was painful; I was bloated like never before; and I'd cried at four different, entirely random commercials.

We'd talked about this. We were married. Stable in every way possible. I knew Chase would be thrilled.

So why was I so overwhelmed?

I guess I just hadn't expected it to happen immediately.

At least it was the off-season and he was home. I couldn't imagine what I'd have done if I found out with him on the road.

When I stepped back out into the hall, the house was silent save for the rumble of the garbage truck heading down the street. I headed to our bedroom to check whether Chase was still asleep. I'd already been up for an hour, drinking coffee and peeing on sticks, but I hadn't wanted to bother him on one of the rare days he got to sleep in.

I found the bed empty, white duvet pulled taut and king-sized pillows straightened. The sound of water hitting the tiles echoed from inside the master bathroom. I sank down onto the edge of the mattress, nervously destroying my cuticles. Chase always said to reframe "nervousness" as "excitement," but if I was being honest, I was definitely experiencing hefty amounts of both.

A moment later, the shower turned off, followed by the glass shower door slamming shut. The bathroom door swung open and Chase winked at me as he strolled past wearing nothing but a towel. I drank in the sight of him as he headed into the closet, then I followed behind him, lingering in the doorway while he pulled on black boxer briefs, followed by a pair of grey sweats.

"Remember our honeymoon?" I asked.

Chase tugged a black t-shirt over his head, shooting me a questioning look. "Which part?" He raked his damp hair out of his face. His expression darkened, wolffish smile emerging as he stepped closer, wrapping his big hands around my waist. "If this is your way of telling me that lacy garter belt is beneath your clothes right now, consider me sold."

Odds were, I didn't have on elaborate lingerie beneath my Lululemon joggers, but I guess I couldn't blame him for being an optimist.

"The part where we decided to throw caution to the wind and said, whatever happens, happens?"

Chase's dark brow furrowed. "The part..." His eyes widened, realization dawning on his face. "Are you saying you're pregnant?"

"Yup." I slid the pregnancy test out of my pocket and handed it to him.

He glanced down at the white plastic stick, then back up at me and broke into a massive grin. "That's fucking awesome." Shoving the test in his pocket, he wrapped his arms around my body, burying his face in my neck.

The look on his face was more than I ever could have hoped for. It was pure happiness. Warmth spread through my body and the heaviness of my worries began to evaporate, replaced by a deeper, secure contentedness.

I had him, and together we could do anything; even take this big, life-changing step.

We looked at each other, falling silent. His expression softened, so full of warmth and caring that I felt like my heart might burst.

"I love you, James."

"I love you."

He leaned in, gently planting a kiss on my mouth. I parted my lips in response and his hold on me tightened, drawing me closer in a way that somehow felt like so much more than just a simple action. It was gentle but territorial; protective. It said a thousand things without a single word.

We slowly pulled apart and he let out a sigh, leaning his forehead against mine.

"A mini-Carter. I'm pretty stoked." Reaching up, he tucked a lock of hair behind my ear, a smug smirk playing on his lips. "First try, too."

Of course he would want to take credit for that part.

"I mean, I'm still kind of in shock," I said. "We weren't even really trying."

His lips claimed mine again for another, brief kiss. "Guess I'm just that good."

Pivoting, he steered me over to the bed and sat down, pulling me into his lap. I wrapped my arms around his neck, nestling against his skin and breathing in the familiar scent of his cologne. Sometimes I sprayed it on the sheets while he was gone, but it was nowhere near as delicious as the real deal.

"You're going to make the most adorable pregnant chick ever," he mused, nuzzling my hair.

"Here's to hoping."

I feared it might be the opposite. Seemed like it was a real roll of the dice and I wasn't entirely convinced I was going to land on the "cute pregnant" square. Chase would probably think so either way, though, because he was lovingly biased.

"Where do you want to go celebrate tonight?" He asked. "Teatro? Nobu? We've gotta make it somewhere good. This is huge."

"I don't know," I said. "Food isn't exactly my friend these days. I thought I was stressed out over exams. But turns out, it was a little more than that."

Chase reached up and began to gently rub my back, making slow circles back and forth. "Morning sickness? I remember that was brutal for Sera."

"Morning sickness, noon sickness, afternoon sickness, night sickness..." Or nausea, at least. No actual vomiting yet, and I dearly hoped it stayed that way.

"That bad, huh?" He hummed. "Sorry, baby. Guess I'll have to spoil you to help make up for it."

I laughed, leaning in to kiss his cheek. "You already spoil me."

"Oh, that was nothing. I'm spoiling for two now."

*

6.5 months later

Seattle, Washington - January

Some parts of pregnancy were great. Baby kicks, for example. Foot rubs from Chase, too. But getting winded after climbing one flight of stairs kind of sucked. I felt like I'd climbed Mount Everest when all I had done was finally manage to reach to the second floor of our house.

"Chase?" I called, walking into the spare bedroom—soon to be nursery. "Oh my goodness." I came to a halt in the doorway, surveying the destruction.

We'd had it painted last week, having finally settled on a light blue to go with the white furniture. Depending on whether the baby was a boy or a girl, I'd pick up some accent pieces later to tie it all together. But right now, it looked more like a construction zone than a baby's room.

Boxes. Boxes everywhere. Packing peanuts. Furniture parts. Plastic bags with screws and pieces. Piles of instruction manuals. And one hot husband.

Chase stood up and ran his fingers through his dark hair, overdue for a haircut. He was rocking hockey hair to the extreme. His eyes landed on me and he flashed me a sheepish smile, walking over and pulling me into a warm hug.

"You weren't supposed to be home yet."

"My prenatal yoga teacher called in sick. But I can leave if you want." I poked his abs, vaguely remembering what it was like back when I also had a flat stomach. It seemed hard to believe, almost like something from another lifetime.

Now I could balance a glass on my belly, waddled when I walked, and wore stretchy pants 24/7. I guess I wore stretchy pants before this too, but at least then it had been a choice.

"I was trying to get as much done as I could so it was a surprise for you," he said.

It was sweet, but entirely unnecessary. Chase worked hard enough as it was and after having been traded to a new time, he'd been crushing it in on- and off-ice training more than ever lately. In fact, that may have been a contributing factor to his recent minor knee injury—overtraining. That was another reason he shouldn't have been doing too much. He wasn't at the surgery stage yet, but I wanted to keep it that way.

"I appreciate it, I really do, but I feel bad about you busting your butt on your days off. I could always hire someone to help if it comes down to it."

Or I could attempt to assemble things myself, but that generally ended in Chase having to dis-assemble it and re-do everything from scratch. I had lots of strengths. Putting together furniture wasn't one of them.

He released me, holding me at arm's length and fixing me with a stern look. "First of all, I'm not hiring someone to put together furniture when I can easily do that myself. Second of all, what if the baby comes early?"

Since I had gotten pregnant, I'd never seen the man worry more in his whole life. He fretted over what I ate, whether I slept enough, and my stress levels with the move. He wouldn't let me lift even the light boxes. And there was no concern as to whether I'd forget my prenatal vitamins every day because he'd remind me, even if he was on the road.

Of course, that didn't stop him from being his usual, horny self. It was an explosive combination with my raging second-trimester hormones. We'd had sex against every single surface of our new house—including most of the walls.

Even looking at him now, I was a little bit tempted. It was like every part of my body was calling out "mine" whenever he was around. In my defense, the man was gorgeous... and good with his hands.

"We have still some time," I said, trying to focus on the conversation. Talk about a role-reversal. "I'm not due for awhile."

His calm exterior faltered and a hint of uncharacteristic panic crept in. "Sera was a month early. I had to be evicted from my own crib because my parents weren't ready for her." As with me and Derek, the age difference between him and Sera was less than two years.

"Are you a little stressed, Carter?" My hands skimmed along his forearms, moving up to his biceps and ending on his shoulders, squeezing gently.

He let out a sigh and the tension in his body eased. "I just want everything to be perfect," he said. "Still wish you'd let us find out if the baby was a boy or girl so we could plan better."

"Nope, no way. The surprise is the best part." I took his hand and shuffled over to the grey-upholstered glider in the corner, easing into it.

Chase sank down onto the matching footstool and turned to face me, placing his elbows on his knees. He gave me a puppy dog face that almost always worked—almost.

"But how will I know what color of tiny skates to buy?" There was a cute undertone of sulkiness in his voice. This wasn't the first time we'd had this discussion. I was team "waiting to find out" and since I had to birth this gigantic, tall baby, I won.

"We're a few years off from that. Besides, I hated pink when I was a child. Even if we have a daughter, there is no guarantee she'll like girly colours or girly things in general."

"Still..." he frowned, evidently troubled by this lack of ability to pre-purchase hockey equipment. Knowing him, he'd probably go buy skates in every color just to cover his bases. I was kind of surprised he hadn't already.

I nudged his foot with my toe. "You shouldn't be doing all this with your knee anyway."

"Huh?" He glanced down like he'd forgotten, then back up at me. "No, it's fine. My physio told me to get up and walk every hour. Some light activity is good for it."

"Repetitive bending and lifting? Carrying heavy objects?" I tilted my head skeptically and he gave me a guilty look. Here he was, on injured reserve, and he was doing physical labor. Stubborn, stubborn man.

"I'm the one who should be fussing over you," he said, leaning over and rubbing my round stomach. He let his palm rest along the curve of my belly, looking at it thoughtfully. "Not the other way around."

"I'm not sure you could fuss over me more if you tried."

I tried to return the favor, but it was hard to spoil the man who could buy himself everything, was almost entirely self-sufficient, and had unwavering self-confidence. Hopefully, my undying love and affection would cut it. And, you know, what he claimed were world-class blowjobs.

"Well, I hit the store earlier and bought you some more ice cream. Strawberry and chocolate." He paused. "The dark chocolate looked better than the regular so I got both. Plus some chips. Salsa. Guac. Artichoke dip. Sparkling water. That juice you like since you can't have any alcohol... and some steak for dinner, now that you can stand meat again."

"You make a fine househusband." With great effort, I hoisted myself up and scooted forward in the chair, snuggling up against his muscular shoulder. He reached up, gently stroking my hair.

"Damn right."

"I feel bad saying this, because it's not like I want you to be injured... but I kind of like having you home."

During the season, it always felt like we were trying to make up for lost time—especially now that I was pregnant and weirdly emotional 24/7. It was probably hormonal, but I wanted to be with him constantly, which made for lonely nights when he was on the road. My pregnancy pillow didn't cut it as a snuggle substitute.

"I like it too," he said, putting his arm around me and pulling me closer. "You are my home."

Ahhhh I still love them!

Baby Carter: Boy or girl?