That voice. His voice. I haven’t gotten tired of hearing it yet, not once in the past four years since we’ve officially been together. It feels warm. It feels like home. Even if that voice is saying something like Merry Effing Christmas. The effing part is actually kind of endearing, since Caulter has been making an attempt to tone down his filthy mouth before the baby gets here. That’s right -- I'm pregnant. With Caulter Sterling's baby. Never in my life did I think I would be speaking those words. When I was in high school, if anyone would have told me that Caulter Sterling, Brighton Academy’s Manwhore Extraordinaire, would end up being my husband, I'd have doubled over with laughter. Scratch that. I’d have probably slapped the person who said something that obscene. I’d say I used to hate Caulter Sterling, but that would be an understatement. Back in high school, that boy was the bane of my existence, alternating between making lewd comments designed solely to get a rise out of me and being just downright insulting.
