Taming Hollywood's Baddest Boy - Max Monroe Page 0,113

one word stares back at me—Pregnant.

Wait a minute…

I shut my eyes.

Am I seeing things?

Then I open them again.

Pregnant.

Nope. Definitely not seeing things.

I move my eyes from the stick to Billie, back to the stick, until finally, back to Billie.

Her teeth worry against her bottom lip, and there’s uncertainty in her eyes.

“Princess, does this mean what I think this means?”

She nods.

“We’re going to have a baby?”

“It looks like, not only are you an uncle, but you’re going to be…a dad,” she whispers.

I’m on my feet and pulling her into my arms.

And I just hold her there, tight in my embrace. My nose is in her hair, breathing in the soft scent of her flowery shampoo, and my heart is pounding wildly inside my chest.

My baby is inside this woman’s belly.

“Are you happy?” she asks me, her voice hardly a whisper.

I lean back and stare into Billie’s eyes. “I don’t think I’ve ever felt this overwhelmed by happiness in my whole fucking life.”

A fresh sheen of tears fogs her pretty eyes. “You’re not mad, then?”

“Princess, why on earth would I be mad?” I ask.

“I don’t know.” She shrugs one petite shoulder. “I mean, we have so much going on right now with work and planning a wedding and making amends with your sister, and, well, I was worried it might just be a lot to wrap your mind around.”

“If you ask me…” I smile down at the woman I love. The woman who is my whole fucking world. “I think our life is pretty fucking perfect right now.”

“Me too.” Her responding smile reaches out and touches my heart. Billie stands on her tippy toes to press a small kiss to my lips. “I love you.”

I reach down and pull her into my arms again. “I love you too.”

After over four months of trying to get in touch with Rocky, I finally hear from her and find out that not only do I have a niece, but the father is a guy I pretty much hated when we were kids.

And now, my soon-to-be wife, my Billie, is pregnant too.

Goddamn, what a day.

But it’s a great day. A fantastic day.

Besides the whole “I’m probably going to have to beat the shit out of Rocky’s baby daddy when I see him” dilemma, I couldn’t ask for a better fucking day.

Or a better life.

Thank everything for my Billie.

THE END

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My name is Thatcher Kelly, but my friends call me Thatch. You might know me, or, if you’re new here, you might not.

So, I’ll just take this time to tell you about myself.

I—and pretty much everyone else—would describe myself as an insanely handsome, crazy successful, addictively charming, and irresistible man of many talents.

I’m confident, maybe to the point of cocky, but I’m not the kind of guy who gets lost in the logistics of people’s opinions.

I take life by the balls. I live without regrets or hesitancy. I do what I want, whenever I want, without fear of judgment or societal constraints.

Basically, if Lenny Kravitz were an insanely successful billionaire banker and had an extra two inches of length behind his zipper, he’d be me. Now, I’m no bullshitter—or rock god, for that matter—but what I lack in