Baby Trapping Boyfriend | Devin

The memory haunted him the way a favorite song did—something he replayed again and again until every detail etched into the back of his eyelids.

Her bare skin, the soft dip of her back, the arch of her shoulders as she braced herself against the mattress. Devin’s breath had been heavy, his hands rough as they gripped her hips, his body moving with the steady rhythm of a man who knew exactly what he wanted. The lamplight had cast her in shades of gold, her hair a halo against the pillow.

He remembered the sound of her voice, broken and pleading, filling the quiet of the room.

That sound’s mine. Always mine.

The condom was supposed to be there to protect them both, a line of trust she believed in. But trust meant nothing against the raw fear that clawed inside his chest whenever he thought about losing her. His daddy had raised him to hold on tight to what mattered, and nothing in his life mattered more than her.

So when his thumb pressed into the thin material, tearing it, he hadn’t hesitated. The rush was primal, a burn in his blood that told him he was sealing her to him in the one way no one could undo.

Now you’ll never leave, darlin’. You’ll carry me inside you, always. My forever.

The plane jolted lightly, pulling him back.

Devin sat stiff in his seat, the hum of the engines and the faint overhead whir of air conditioning pressing in on him. First-class seats were supposed to be comfortable, but he couldn’t get settled. His six-foot-three frame sprawled awkwardly, knees bent tight, boots tapping restlessly against the floor.

He wore a navy crewneck and worn denim jacket, his black hair messy despite shoving his hand through it every few minutes. His sharp blue eyes flicked from the oval window to the watch on his wrist, counting down the minutes until landing.

He rolled a coin over his knuckles, the way he did before games, when the nerves and adrenaline were too much to sit still.

Around him, the cabin was quiet—muted conversations, the soft rustle of snack bags, the clink of ice in plastic cups. A woman laughed lightly a few rows ahead, but it faded quick against the roar of the engines.

None of it mattered. All Devin could see was her.

She should’ve been here with me. Curled up against my arm, hoggin’ the damn blanket, snorin’ soft into my chest. Always does. God, I hate flyin’ without her.

He shifted in his seat, running his tongue across his teeth. His jaw tightened at the thought of her alone back in Dallas.

What if she went out? What if someone smiled at her that way? What if someone put their damn hands on her? No. No one gets near her. Nobody. She’s mine.

His knee bounced harder. He dragged a hand through his hair, exhaling sharp. He pulled his phone from his pocket, thumb hovering over her name in his messages, but forced himself to shove it away. He’d see her soon. No need to spiral, not when he was just hours—hell, minutes—away.

The thought of her body in his bed, of that broken condom, of what might already be growing inside her made a grin twitch at his lips.

I bet it worked. I know it did. My girl’s carryin’ me now. Just wait till I get home. Wait till I see her.

The captain’s voice cracked over the intercom, announcing descent into Dallas. Devin adjusted his cap low over his brow, hiding sharp features the way he always did in public. He didn’t want fans, didn’t want flashing cameras or reporters crowding him the second he stepped off. The only thing he wanted was her.

When the wheels screeched against the runway, his heart pounded like a game-day kickoff. He was the first out of his seat when the seatbelt light blinked off, duffel slung over his shoulder as he cut through the crowd of passengers. His boots struck heavy against the tile of the terminal, long strides eating the distance between him and the gate.

And then—

He saw her.

She stood just past security, eyes scanning the crowd until they locked on him. She smiled, that damn smile that undid him every time, soft and sure, like he was her whole world. And she had her hands resting gently on her stomach.

It wasn’t much—not obvious to most—but to Devin’s sharp eyes, the faint swell was clear. A sign. Proof.

His chest burned hot, a grin breaking across his face before he could stop it.

There it is. My proof. My girl’s carryin’ my baby.

He dropped the duffel, not giving a damn when it hit the ground with a thud. His boots echoed as he closed the distance in three long strides, scooping her off the ground with strong arms.

“Darlin’,” he rasped, voice thick with that southern drawl, spinning her in a circle before setting her back down. His hands framed her face, rough thumbs brushing her cheeks. He pressed his forehead to hers, breath warm, grin wide. “God, I missed you. You don’t even know. Thought about you every damn minute.”

Her laugh made his hear beat faster. Then he kissed her, slow at first, then hungry, pouring every restless night and every jealous thought into it.

When he finally pulled back, his blue eyes dropped to her stomach, then back to her face, burning with barely contained joy.

“How long you known, sugar?” he asked, voice low, husky, still laced with that southern drawl. His grin spread, boyish and wild. “How long you been keepin’ this from me?”

His hands slipped down to cover hers where they rested over the slight swell of her belly, and his chest rumbled with a chuckle, deep unshakable and happy.

“I can’t wait to get you home, show you how much I missed you.”