The next instalment in Devney Perry’s Tin Gypsy series happens to be one of my favourite tropes—a surprise pregnancy romance—and I have a delightful sneak peek for you.
The baby squirmed and scrunched up her nose before giving a small, cute pout. “She’s going to use that pout against us.”
“And get whatever she wants.”
A knock came at the door and a woman entered with our breakfasts. Leo ate first, scarfing his own omelet while I nursed the baby.
“She needs a name.”
He nodded and reached for his phone on the table. “I’ve got a list.”
“You do?” Who was this Leo and what had he done with the Leo I was intimately acquainted with?
“I couldn’t sleep last night. You were wiped and she squirmed in her crib-cart thing, so I held her and started looking up names.”
“You were holding her when I woke up.”
He shrugged. “I held her all night.”
Oh. My. God. Now I was going to freaking cry again. Why couldn’t he have been this sweet from the start? How much time had we missed?
I shifted the baby to the other breast, the movement giving me an excuse to hide my face. The nurse had helped me last night but so far, breastfeeding was not easy. As the baby took hold of my tender nipple, I dragged in a deep breath and got my emotions under control.
“Want my favorite or least favorite first?” Leo asked.
“Seraphina. It means fire, because I hope she gets your hair.”
“Damn it.” The tears were impossible to stop now. They erupted out of my eyes like water from a hose, dripping down my face and onto the baby’s blanket.
“What? Is she hurting you?”
I shook my head, using my free hand to swipe at my cheeks. It was no use. The tears just kept falling.
Leo, oblivious to the fact that he was the cause here, swiped up a napkin and dabbed my face.
“You’re making it worse.”
“By being . . . this guy. Who are you?”
A wash of guilt clouded his handsome features. “Just a guy trying to deserve you.”
“Stop.” A sob escaped. “I’m hormonal and exhausted and hungry. Unless you want me to cry through breakfast, I need you to stop being that guy for a minute. Be the other Leo.”
He leaned in, pressing a kiss to my temple. “Your tits are fucking huge.”
I laughed. “Thank you.”
He stayed close, leaving one arm around my shoulders as my tears dried up. Then he fumbled to get a burp rag over his shoulder, shifting and adjusting the cloth until it was just right, before taking the baby from my arms to pat her back while I inhaled my food.
“Want the rest of my list of names?” he asked.
“Why? Her name’s Seraphina.”
The smile that spread across his face, so full of pride, stole my breath.
“Seraphina Winter,” he whispered. “I like it. Does she need a middle name?”
“Betsy.” The name blurted past my lips before I could stop it.
Leo laughed. “That’s the sleep deprivation talking.”
“I have no idea where that came from. But . . . it fits. That’s where she started.”
“Seraphina Betsy Winter.” His hand engulfed her entire body as he leaned her away to look at her face. “What do you think, little?”
Little. “Leo, I’m about to cry again.”
“Seriously, babe. Your tits are magnificent right now.”
I snorted, smiling as I rested my head on his shoulder. “Much better.”