Total pages in book: 30
Estimated words: 27599 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 138(@200wpm)___ 110(@250wpm)___ 92(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 27599 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 138(@200wpm)___ 110(@250wpm)___ 92(@300wpm)
“Fuck, baby girl, how many times are you going to come?” Jonah asked, clenching his jaw. “She’s so fucking wet, Blaze.”
I smirked and tightened my hold around her neck again. Jonah shouted her name as he came, coming inside of her. I drove myself down her throat again and again, chasing my release until I spilled inside her wet, warm mouth.
I slowly slid out and then lifted her from the bed, carrying her to the bathroom. “Run a bath,” I told Jonah. “Poor woman needs some aftercare after that.”
Montana sleepily tucked her face in the curve of my neck. “I love you both,” she whispered.
I stumbled at the shock of her statement, and Jonah quickly gripped my shoulders, holding me upright. I snapped my eyes down to hers, only to see her already looking up at me.
I swallowed thickly.
Those words had been the last words I ever expected to hear from her. Jonah and I were good at reading between the lines and had known for a while, but there was a huge difference between knowing and hearing her confess it out loud.
“You’re my entire fucking world,” I rasped. And I hoped she knew that for me, meaning that much was worth more than any I love you I could ever utter.
She smiled, tears pricking her eyes. And I knew right then that she understood.
Jonah took her from my arms so I could step into the tub, and he kissed her in that sweet, tender way only he was capable of. It was almost like he breathed life into her every time he did.
“And I love you, baby girl,” he whispered against her lips.
I watched as Montana signed her name on the black line before setting her pen down. While Jonah silently signed his name as well, she sucked in a deep breath, tears sliding down her cheeks. She looked at Madeline and Blake, and when she spoke, the raw emotion and pain in her voice just about fucking undid me.
She’d never been like this before.
“I love this kid,” she told them, her voice low. They both attentively listened to her. “I want you to know that.” I grabbed her hand in mine. Jonah, who had already been holding her other hand, squeezed. “This was not an easy decision for me to make, but I know I can’t give this baby what it needs. I’m mature enough to know that, and I need this baby to have everything I never did. And sure, Jonah and Blaze could take care of it, but it needs a mother who can give herself all the time.” She sucked in another deep breath. “I can’t do that, and that’s okay.”
She blinked back tears. “But I need you to love this baby as if it were your own. Please don’t ever make it feel like something is wrong with it because its mother couldn’t keep it. If I wasn’t scared of inevitably forcing my trauma on this child, I would keep it.”
Madeline leaned across the table, and Jonah released Montana’s hand, allowing her to set it on the table. Madeline gripped Montana’s hand in hers. “We will love this child, Montana. We already do. And on the days that are hard for you, we’ll love it extra for you.”
Montana nodded. “Thank you,” she whispered.
I pressed my lips to her temple and then nodded at Jonah over her head. Jonah tugged her into his lap and held her as she cried.
Mrs. Margaret stood. “Why don’t you two go ahead and take her home?” she quietly suggested. “Your part is done.”
I nodded. Jonah lifted Montana into his arms and carried her out of the building. I shook hands with Blake before leaving as well, my heart aching for the woman who had just signed away a piece of herself.
I knew this wasn’t going to be easy for her. I knew she’d spent the majority of her pregnancy so far blocking this baby out, but I also knew she loved it. Because she’d made lifestyle changes from day one of knowing about this child.
A mother who didn’t love her child would never do that.
And she also wouldn’t make the decision to end generational trauma like Montana just had.
20
Montana
“Oh, fuck,” I whispered, staring in horror at the water trickling down my leg. I clenched the counter and drew in a deep, steadying breath. I was about to give birth. There was no use in panicking about it. Not a goddamn thing I could do to change it.
“John?” I called, shouting for my brother. I was spending the day with him. Hell, I was only thirty-seven weeks—not due yet. And when I went to the doctor two days ago, I still hadn’t begun dilating. We thought I was fine, hence why I was here with him today and not with the guys.