I reached up and playfully tugged his longish blond hair, which he had pulled up into a bun on the top of his head, the hairdo earning him a ton of shit from the other guys on the regular. I had to admit, he could pull it off, though. Bode had that whole California-surfer-dude vibe working for him, and combined with his constant flirty smile and long, muscular body, it made him sexy as hell.

“I’m good. Excited about this little one, though.” I rubbed my hand over my burgeoning belly, feeling my child’s movements inside me.

Bode moved aside when Waylon ‘Tank’ Hanford hip-checked him to take the lavender padded chair beside me, filling it with his mammoth frame. Tank was built like a… well, like a tank. He was the tallest of the men and the sweetest, gentlest soul I had ever known, despite his massive size.

“Hey, Blaire. I brought something for the baby,” he said in his deep, rumbly voice, holding up a pink stuffed puppy in his gigantic hand as his blue eyes twinkled merrily.

It was freaking adorable to see this giant of a man holding a fluffy pink dog in his big, rough hand, and I wrapped my arms around his thick neck and hugged him. “Thanks, Tank. This is just darling. Carrie will love it.” He grinned with teeth so large they looked like they could take down a gazelle with a single bite.

“You need anything, Blaire?” Tate Gentry, a.k.a “Hawk,” asked, sitting in the chair on the other side of me and patting my knee over the soft pink blanket that was covering my legs. He wasn’t quite as tall as Tank, but he had some freaking Arnold Schwarzenegger-level biceps on him.

My tongue sneaked out to wet my dry lips. “Actually, could you hand me that glass of ice? For some reason, growing a baby makes me parched.”

He nodded—Hawk was a man of few words—and grabbed the cup before spooning a small mound of crushed ice into my mouth. When another contraction hit me, his near-black eyes held mine, and, as usual, when Hawk looked at me, I felt like he was looking directly into my soul.

“Breathe, honey. You got this,” he murmured quietly, his deep, intense eyes never leaving mine as he set the cup down and held my hand through the entire contraction. When I first met him, Hawk intimidated the shit out of me with his dark good looks and broody demeanor. But with time, he had warmed to me, and now we talked all the time. Well, I mostly talked, and he mostly listened, but you know… progress. “Good girl,” he said quietly, giving me another scoop of ice chips and a rare smile.