I covered his mouth with my hand. “Oh my God, I’m fine We’re fine. Now continue kissing me, please.”
For the next five minutes, he kissed every inch of my face and some of my ears, too. “You’re going to be a mom,” he said softly into my right ear.
“Mmmhmm. And you’re going to be a daddy.”
After placing one last smacking kiss on my lips he sat up, pulling me with him. “How long have you known? How far along are you? Do you think it’s a boy or a girl? How—”
I held up a hand. “Whoa there, crazy pants. One question at a time.”
He ran a hand through his hair. “Fuck, I’m sorry.” He gave me a closed-lip smile with tears in his eyes. “I’m just so happy. I’m so fucking excited.”
I chuckled. “Well, the first thing we’re going to have to do right away is start working on your constant use of the word fuck.”
He laughed low. “You’re right. So tell me. How long have you known?”
“Only a week. I wanted to wait until Christmas to tell you. It’s been killing me.”
He grabbed my hand and kissed the top of it. “It’s the best Christmas present I’ve ever gotten.”
I could tell that he meant it. I knew how happy this would make him. For months, I could tell he was down about us not getting pregnant yet. But I knew with time, it would happen. I didn’t for one second ever believe we wouldn’t have a baby. I knew I was getting all of my happily ever after.
“I’m thinking I’m about seven to eight weeks along. And I have no idea if it’s a boy or a girl. We won’t find that out for quite a few more weeks. But I think it might be a girl.” I lay my hand over my flat tummy that wouldn’t be so flat soon. “It feels like a girl.”
He lay his hand over mine. “A girl. Columbia.” He said her name like a prayer.
I felt warm all over remembering the night, long ago in this very field where he told me what he wanted to name his kids. And it was no surprise at all that their names were from the stars. “Yeah. Columbia. We’ll call her Bia for short.”
He grinned wide as another tear slipped down his face. “Yeah, Bia.”
He climbed back on top of me, kissing me deep before saying, “Merry Christmas, Livvy.”
Chapter Seven
Adam
I dragged our sleeping bags out of the tent, wanting to sleep beneath the stars, even if I couldn’t see them that night. We spent the rest of our time in the field, cuddled in our bags, keeping each other warm.
And the whole time, I couldn’t help but think of how wise my amazing wife was.
Sometimes the darkest nights did make the brightest stars.
Books By Amie Knight
The Stars Duet
Beneath His Stars
In Her Space
The Heart Series
See Through Heart
A Steel Heart
An Imperfect Heart
Standalones
The Line
The Summerville Sports Series
The Red Zone
The First Score
The Cole Train Twins Series
Miss Apprehended
Miss Understood
About the author
Amie Knight has been a reader for as long as she could remember and a romance lover since she could get her hands on her momma's books. A dedicated wife and mother with a love of music and makeup, she won’t ever be seen leaving the house without her eyebrows and eyelashes done just right. When she isn't reading and writing, you can catch her jamming out in the car with her two kids to '90s R&B, country, and showtunes. Amie draws inspiration from her childhood in Columbia, South Carolina, and can't imagine living anywhere other than the South.
FACEBOOK: www.facebook.com/authoramieknight
WEBSITE: www.authoramieknight.com
NEWSLETTER: http://eepurl.com/cPHIuT
Kiss Before Midnight
A New York Knights/Blairwood University Crossover Holiday Story
Anna B. Doe
Chapter One
“Grace, you coming?” Yasmin looks at me from the doorway.
“Gimme a sec,” I say as I throw the last of my things in the duffle bag, zip it closed and pull the strap over my shoulder. Shouting a quick goodbye to my ballet instructor, I hurry toward my friend.
“Do you mind if we stop somewhere for a second?” I ask, tucking a strand that slipped out of my bun behind my ear.
“Again?” Yasmin groans loudly. She might be a year older, but that doesn’t stop her from acting like a brat. I still love her though. We met last year when I needed some help catching up on my studies after a nasty flu, and we’ve been friends ever since.
“It’ll just be a second, I promise!” I protest, feeling my cheeks heating under her watchful stare. Clasping my hands together, I bat my eyelashes at her in my best attempt to be cute. “Pretty please, with a cherry on top?”
“Fine,” she sighs and points her finger at me. “But you owe me.”
“Anything you want,” I promise, already hurrying down the hallway toward the gym, a big smile plastered on my face.
The community center that was my home more than my actual home—a shitty apartment in an even shittier part of the city, which I shared with my mother—has not only grown but also been renewed in the last few years since I reconnected with my older brother J.D. He saw how much I love this place and how much it helped me in the years we’d been apart, so he, along with his new wife Sienna, have taken it upon themselves to make this place shine so it could help more kids like me in the future. Bright Haven that’s the name of the project and the other community centers they have started to build across the country. Because this place has been my light, my safe place, when all I knew was darkness.
As soon as we come close to the gym, I can hear a ball bouncing off the court. Mostly guys, although there are a few girls, are playing on the inside court. They usually play on the outside court, but since it’s early December and snowing, they’ll have to make do inside until the spring.
We get to the slightly open door just in time for me to catch the end of the play. The familiar tall figure slips past his guard, his footwork easy, almost effortless, as he bounces the ball by his side. When he gets to the three-point line, he leaps in the air and shoots.
The satisfying swoosh as the ball falls through the hoop, signaling that he scored, fills the room just before people from the bleachers cheer in victory.
“Damn, he’s good,” Yas says from behind me, but I don’t turn around to acknowledge her. No, my eyes are glued to the boy who made the shot.
Mason LeBlanc.
Just thinking about his name has me all rattled inside.
Even at sixteen, he’s already six foot two and towers over most of the people in the room. He’s still kind of skinny, but I’m sure that in no time he’ll build muscle, especially if he keeps playing like that. Then again, he has more talent in his pinky then most of the guys have in their whole bodies.