Change of Possession (The New York Nighthawks #7) Read Online Fiona Davenport

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Insta-Love, Sports, Virgin Tags Authors: Series: The New York Nighthawks Series by Fiona Davenport
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Total pages in book: 28
Estimated words: 26052 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 130(@200wpm)___ 104(@250wpm)___ 87(@300wpm)
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I popped into the kitchen and retrieved a small blue box from the pocket of my sport coat, then grabbed the trays that held slices from all of the different pies and returned to the dining room.

“Why don’t we all go around the room and say what we’re grateful for?” my mom suggested, as scripted.

“What a lovely idea,” Cleo sighed.

“I’ll start,” I volunteered as I pulled my chair away from the table. I turned Cleo’s to the side and got down on one knee in front of her. “Baby, there is nothing on this earth that I am more grateful for than you. You bring joy and sunshine with you wherever you go, and I’m a selfish bastard, so I want to keep it in my life forever. I love you with all that I am, and I’d be even more grateful if you’d agree to be my wife.”

I pulled out the box and flipped the lid to reveal a platinum ring with a four carat, marquis cut, pink diamond.

Cleo burst into tears, but since she was smiling, I didn’t freak out.

“Baby?”

“Yes!” she screamed as she launched herself at me, nearly knocking us both over. “I love you, Rigby. Absolutely! Yes!! I—”

I cut her off when I sealed my mouth over hers and kissed her with all the love and passion in me. “Thank you,” I mumbled against her lips.

Cleo pulled back, and she glowed with happiness as I slipped the ring on her finger. “It’s beautiful.”

“So are you,” I said softly.

“Okay, okay. Enough of this mushy shit and crying,” my dad grumbled as he passed a hand over his suspiciously shiny eyes. “Let’s eat. This pumpkin pie looks—”

“Oh, crap!” Cleo slapped her hand over her mouth and sprinted from the room.

As I hurried after her, my mother followed me, saying, “There are tests under the sink in the upstairs bathroom.”

“Tests?” I repeated with a frown as I knelt behind my fiancée and gathered her long, pink hair into my hands.

Cleo had finished dry heaving and flopped back against me. “Tests?” she echoed.

“Pregnancy tests. I bought some and put them in the bathroom upstairs,” my mom stated…as if it was normal for a postmenopausal woman with no children living at home to stock pregnancy tests.

We gaped at her, and she shrugged. “What? I want grandkids.”

“Judith, having the tests on hand won’t get her pregnant,” Cleo’s mom said, her tone exasperated. “If you really want grandkids right away, we can—”

“Oh my word, stop!” Cleo sputtered. “I’m not…”

She trailed off and looked up at me, her green eyes wide with shock.

I raised an eyebrow at her, and she blushed. We hadn’t used a single condom in all the times we’d fucked…and we’d been fucking like bunnies for two weeks.

“I’ll go grab one!” my mom trilled as she dashed out of the bathroom.

Ten minutes later, four positive pregnancy tests stared up at us from the counter.

Our mothers cried and chattered excitedly, so I gently pushed them out of the room, then shut and locked the door.

“Are you okay?” I asked Cleo softly as I brushed some bright pink strands behind her ear.

“I’m…I’m amazing,” she breathed as she looked up at me. Her eyes were filled with joy, and I was suddenly overwhelmed with love for my soon-to-be wife and our little one. Speaking of soon-to-be…

“Why don’t I take you upstairs so you can rest while I make arrangements for this weekend?”

I turned to unlock the door but stopped when Cleo placed her hand on my arm. “Arrangements?”

“For our wedding.”

Cleo chuckled. “We have time…wait. Did you say this weekend? We can’t possibly get married that fast.”

I jerked my thumb over my shoulder in the direction of our parents, who all stood on the other side of the door. “How long do you think your dad will let me live if I’m not married to his pregnant daughter?” As excuses went, it was lame, but it was the best one I had at the moment.

Cleo laughed, and I prepared to argue with her, but it turned out she didn’t need any more convincing. “Okay. This weekend.”

I whooped as I grabbed her up and spun her around but quickly stopped when her face turned a little green again.

“I love you, Cleo Hunt,” I said, trying out the name.

Cleo grinned. “That has a nice ring to it.” Then she put her arms around my neck and laid her head on my chest, with her cheek resting over my heart. “I love you too, Rigby. Forever.”

EPILOGUE

CLEO

“You did it, baby.”

Rigby flung his arm around my shoulders and brushed a kiss against the top of my head. We were seated in the front row of the audience for a musical that I’d worked on, one starring his sister. It was due to start in just a few minutes, and the entire theatre was packed. “I really did.”



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