Big Bad Boys A Romance Collection - Penny Wylder Page 0,165

want this?” she asks, her voice weak and thin. “You're not mad?”

“Syl, I could never be mad about something like this,” I say, taking her face in my hands and bringing my forehead to hers. “Of course I want this. I want this baby and I want you. You saw how I grew up, no real family, no one who really cared about me. My father took off when I was a baby and my mother wasn't a mother at all.” Pressing my forehead harder into hers, I clutch her cheeks in my hands. Setting her hands over mine, they're soft and delicate. “I didn't think having a family was something I was meant for. I always thought I was too broken—”

Shaking her head, she says, “You're not broken, you're no more broken than the rest of the world, me included.”

Kissing her forehead, I smile. “I love you, Sylvia. I wasn't able to see it before, but now I know, I feel it. I feel you in my heart and soul. And this baby, this baby was meant to be.”

Her eyes sparkle as they search my face for truth. “You mean that? You love me?”

“I love you like I've never loved anything before.” Lowering my mouth, I brush my lips over hers.

“I love you, too.” Whispering the words against my lips, she starts to smile, pulling her face away from mine. “I'm sorry, my breath. . . It must be—”

“Shut up and kiss me,” I demand, scooping my hands deeper around her face and holding the back of her head.

Pressing my lips to hers, I kiss her hard, I kiss her so she knows she's my air, my life, my world.

And this baby, this baby just proves my heart was right all along.

17

Sylvia

“You're what?” Daniel's voice cuts through air, slicing me where I stand.

“Pregnant.” I'm trying to keep my shoulders tall and my back strong, I don't want to feel so weak around him, and it sucks that I do. He has the ability to make me feel small, unimportant, like I need to prove myself every damn day. “I'm having a baby.”

He isn't happy. A small piece of me wants to hear some sign he's excited, a hint of joy with a side of disappointment is fine with me. But, he's going to be a grandfather, isn't that a special moment?

“Did you tell your mother?”

Shaking my head, I frown. “No, not yet. I wanted to tell you first, I thought we could maybe come up with a fun way to tell her.”

Striking a hand through the air, his body stiffens. I watch him shudder in his chair. He looks disgusted. My heart breaks, my stomach knots, and I feel myself losing steam. I'm deflating inside, disconnecting from the happiness I walked into the room with.

“Absolutely not. You're not keeping this baby. You're getting rid of it.”

“What?”

Did he actually just say that? Get rid of the baby?

“This isn't what we talked about. We talked about a fake relationship, something that wasn't real. I didn't pay you to get knocked up by some asshole fighter.” Slamming a finger into the top of his desk, he glares at me. “You're not having this baby. End of story.”

“Excuse me? You can't—”

“Oh I can. . .” Daniel stands up quickly, pressing his palms into his desk. “Because I just did. You don't have time for a kid, Sylvia. And Phade. . .” Pausing, he chuckles to himself as he circles his desk, coming to lean against the front. “Phade isn't father material. I mean come on, you and I both know that. He's a walking STD, Sylvia, the girls he's been with—”

Holding up my hand, I stop him right there. “Daniel, Phade isn't who you think he is. He isn't a wild party boy, just looking for a good screw. He actually cares, he's excited about this baby—he loves me.”

“Love,” Daniel says with a sarcastic laugh. “He's taking you for a ride, Syl, period. He doesn't love you, are you kidding me? Phade's a muscle-head, he's good for drawing blood and putting on a good show, that's it.”

“That's not true.” I'm holding back my tears the best I can. I can feel them as they swell, prickling my eyes. I don't blink. Holding my eyes open wide, I force the tears down, back where they came from.

Daniel doesn't like to see weakness. Tears are weakness. I thought I had found some backbone, now I'm reverting back to childhood lessons. Muscle memory wants to force