Calamity Rayne Knocked Up Read Online Lydia Michaels

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Contemporary, Erotic Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 90
Estimated words: 87990 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 440(@200wpm)___ 352(@250wpm)___ 293(@300wpm)
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“That’s what I want, Hale.”

“You know I’ll give you anything you want, baby. I’ll always take care of you.”

My head tilted back as my pleasure peaked. His grip tightened as his swollen cock pulsed inside of me, and we shivered. I had never felt so connected, so unified with another person as I did in that moment as our bodies fused as one.

Even if that wasn’t the moment of conception, it was a fundamental moment for us, one where we recognized each other’s commitment and poured all of our love into one shared purpose. That night, Hale healed something in me. He reminded me that while our lives would be fuller with a second baby, our love was far from empty. And that was a truth I needed to remember.

The following week I was at Remington’s organizing the outdated file system he used in his house. “Remington, why do you still have the rebate paperwork for a vacuum you no longer own?”

“Meyers, don’t ask stupid questions. Do I look like the person you should be asking about vacuums?”

He was right. I pulled out the overstuffed file bursting with outdated manuals and rebates and went to find Marta.

She was making something that smelled divine in the kitchen. “Hey Marta, do you have a second?”

“What is it, Niña?”

I dropped the heavy file on the counter. “Could you look through this and tell me what appliances he no longer has? I’m trying to make some room in the filing cabinets. The man is still holding on to his tax returns from 1970.”

“Of course. You sit. I’ll make you lunch.”

Oddly, I wasn’t that hungry, but I never turned down Marta’s cooking. “What’s on the stove?”

“Today, I make a white bean chicken chili.” She set a steaming bowl before me with a spoon and a linen napkin.

“Smells good.” I lifted the spoon to my mouth and blew on the creamy chili to cool it off.

“It is good for you, Niña. You need all the protein and nutrients you can get in your condition.”

I stilled, a mouth full of beans and delicious chicken on my tongue. “Huh?”

She looked at me with a knowing grin and whispered, “Estas embarazada.”

“No compre-hendo. English, please.”

She glanced at the door and then stepped closer, planting her hand flat on my belly. “You have a baby in you, Niña.”

I lowered my spoon. “Nuh-uh.”

“Whatever you say.” She tapped my hand with little conviction. “Eat up before your food gets cold.”

I numbly finished my lunch, and she said nothing more about it as she sorted through the file. When I left the kitchen, I went right to Remington’s office. “I, uh, have to go deal with something.”

He didn’t look up from his desk. “Are you coming back?”

“Maybe.”

“Who’s going to clean up these files, Meyers?”

“I have a system. Just leave them. I need to… It’s an emergency.”

At that, he glanced up from his work. “Is everything all right?”

“Mm-hm.”

Everything was fine. It wasn’t like Marta was some sort of prophet. She was a housekeeper who liked to cook spicy food. However, she did tell me that the first time she met me, she knew I was going to be essential to the Davenports. Apparently, her intuition influenced Remington’s decision to hire me, which, now that I thought about it, was really odd. She also once told me that she had a bad feeling the day Remington fell from his heart attack like she knew something was going to go wrong that day.

A flutter of excitement rippled through my belly. “Is Marta psychic?”

He rumpled his bushy white brows. “What? You do realize we have actual work to do, Meyers. Go deal with your thing and get back here to clean up this mess. I want to review these reports tonight. Marta’s making chili, so bring Elara back with you and we can do the reports after dinner.”

“Uh-huh.” I grabbed my purse, not hearing a single word he said.

Twenty minutes later I was washing my hands and staring down at a pregnancy test. I promised Hale I'd wait for him the next time I took one, but he was in Colorado visiting wind farms for the next three days.

Only in the land of wishful procreation did three minutes take this long. Seconds passed like fortnights as I impatiently tapped my foot and stared at the unchanging stick.

“Ugh!” The wait was killing me, so I called Tyler.

He answered right away. “Calamity, what’s shaking?”

“You busy?”

“Just developing some photos I took last weekend.”

Tyler had recently discovered a love for photography after speaking to Rarity Lockhart, the photographer at our wedding. She gave him a bunch of old equipment, and he’d started taking night classes. He even booked a few local gigs around town, which was exciting.

“Pictures of what?”

“Just a few architecture shots and some landscapes. I’m experimenting with shadows and light.”

“Cool.”

“What’s up with you?”



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