“Yes.” I rest my temple to his shoulder. “I didn’t know you knew how to dance.”
“This isn’t dancing; this is swaying. The moment they put on dance music, you’ll see my moves.”
“I can’t wait.” I laugh and close my eyes, swaying with him until it’s announced that dinner is being served.
We go back to the table. Thankfully, Bonnie keeps her hands to herself, and the rest of the dinner goes by without incident. After dinner, we spend most of the night on the dance floor, where Wesley proves that he’s not a liar. He can dance—and well.
Getting into the back of the cab a few hours later, I’m all danced out. I can’t stop smiling.
“Did you have a good night, gorgeous?” Wesley asks after shutting the door.
“Yes, and I learned something new about you,” I say as the cab pulls away from the curb and into traffic. “You are really good at dancing. If they ever have a Dancing with the Stars NYPD edition, I think you should try out.”
I yawn, and he laughs and kisses the top of my head.
“I’ll keep that in mind. Are you tired?”
“Very.” I yawn again. He wraps his arm around my shoulder, and I snuggle into his side.
Suddenly, the cab is jolted forward, and my body is tossed against the partition that separates us from the driver. My head and knees hit it hard. Wesley’s arm wraps around my waist, but a second impact comes, even worse than the first. He’s unable to keep me in his grasp as the car is jolted again. Glass rains down around us from my window as it shatters. Grabbing my head, I feel wetness on my fingertips.
“Are you okay?” His eyes scan me, and I nod my head.
“I think so. But . . .”
“Fuck.” He looks around, then settles me back against the seat. “Do not move.” He opens his door and gets out. My knees ache and my head is pounding, but with all that, my biggest concern right now is our baby.
Our baby that Wesley doesn’t know about.
“Wesley!” I call his name as he reaches into the backseat for me.
Helping me out, he looks me over once more, then inspects my forehead and the wound that is causing blood to run down my face and onto my chest and dress. Libby is going to kill me.
“Hold on, gorgeous. I want to get you safely across the street. Okay?” I shake my head no. “I promise it will be okay. I know you’re bleeding, but it’s just a small scrape. I promise, it’s small.” He picks me up and moves quickly through the cars that are now piled up in the middle of the road.
“Wesley . . .”
“Here you are.” He heads toward a bench at an empty bus stop, then helps me sit.
From my new vantage point, I can see the full scene of the accident. Two cars hit our cab—one in the back and one on the side. The yellow cab is not just wrecked, it’s totaled.
“Stay here. I’ll be right back. Don’t move. Just keep pressure on your head,” he says, taking off his jacket and wrapping it around my shoulders.
“Wesley!” I repeat once more as he puts his cell phone to his ear.
“I’ll be right back.” He kisses my forehead, then stands.
Completely frustrated with him, I shout, “I’m pregnant!”
Even being in the middle of a busy intersection with police sirens off in the distance blaring as they race toward us, and people who have stopped on the sidewalks to take in the accident—even with all that, I know that if I had a pin to drop, I would have heard it. It was like the air went still, and all the people froze just like in those superhero movies when everything stops, even the bullets in midair.
Then time returns to normal and chaos ensues.
“Get a fucking ambulance, and get it here right fucking now!” Wesley shouts to whomever he’s talking to on the phone; then he drops to his knees in front of me. “Are you okay? Are you hurting? Are you in any pain?”
“No pain, but what if the accident shook the baby loose?” I say, knowing rationally that that is ridiculous and impossible.
“I don’t think that’s possible, but when the ambulance gets here, I will have them check to make sure that didn’t happen.”
“Good.” I pull in a sharp breath when his large palm reaches under my coat and covers my stomach.
“You’re pregnant.” It’s not a question; I know he’s just asking me to confirm what I just told him.
“Yes.”
“With my baby . . . ,” he says.
I narrow my eyes on his. “That better be a joke, because if it’s not, I swear the moment I know I’m okay I’m going to kick your ass all over New York City.”
“Gorgeous, shut up and kiss me,” he demands.
So of course I do.
Chapter 11
OH, BABY, YOU’VE LOST YOUR MIND
WESLEY
Sitting in the hospital with my elbows on my knees and my head in my hands, I try to keep my shit together. Mackenzie is pregnant. She’s pregnant with our child, and I could have lost her and the baby tonight. The idea of going through my life without Mackenzie is completely unbearable. I’m in love with her. Fuck. I feel happy as hell and sick to my stomach at the same time.
“Are you okay?”
Lifting my head, I look at Mackenzie. She’s looking like she doesn’t have a care in the world as she sits on the top of the table reading one of the ripped-up magazines that got left behind in the room by someone. When the ambulance showed up on the scene, I made sure they saw to her first. The wound on her head was superficial, like I thought, but they still used butterfly tape to close it up. She will have a bruise for a few days. Her knees are also black and blue from where they hit the divider, but they weren’t causing her any kind of abnormal pain. They were most concerned with her losing the baby.
“Okay, mister. Snap out of it.” She taps my cheek before carefully draping herself across my lap. I didn’t even realize she had stood up.
“I’m all right.” I adjust her, then rest my hand over her flat stomach. The idea of it growing with our child is overwhelming and unbelievable. I can’t get my mind around the fact that I’m going to be a dad.
“You’re such a liar.” She sighs, resting her hand over mine on her stomach and dropping her head onto my shoulder. “We are not very good at being traditional, are we?”
Dipping my chin to see her face, I hate the worry I see there. “Have I told you today that I like you a lot?” I ask.
Her eyes meet mine, the worry slowly fading into something else that I like a lot more.
“No.” She shakes her head.
Cupping her cheek, I smooth my thumb over the soft surface. “Actually, I think I’m in love with you.”
“You do?” she whispers, searching my gaze.
“I do,” I say, watching her smile a beautiful smile before resuming her previous position. Frowning, I give her a gentle squeeze. “Do you?”
“Do I what?” she asks.
I can’t tell if she’s joking or not. “Do you love me, woman?”
“Miss Reed?” The door opens and the doctor comes into the room before she can answer my question. I throw the doctor a dirty look—not that she notices. She’s focused on the stack of papers in her hands. Easing Mackenzie off my lap, I help her back onto the table and stand next to her. “It’s nice to meet you two.” The doctor looks between us.
“You too.” Mackenzie gives her a warm smile.
I grunt my greeting, still annoyed that we were interrupted moments ago.
“Stop it.” Mackenzie hits my chest with the back of her hand, and the doctor looks between the two of us before continuing.
“Your blood test came back positive, so you are definitely pregnant.”
I reach forward and take Mackenzie’s hand when I see it start to shake.
“I also ordered an internal ultrasound so that we can just make sure that everything is okay. I don’t predict that there will be a problem since you haven’t had any bleeding or cramping. The baby should be okay,” she says.
I let out a br
eath I didn’t know I was holding. I knew that chances were that the baby was okay, but it’s a relief to hear that from the doctor.
“So the accident didn’t shake him loose?” Mackenzie says.
The doctor laughs. “No, it’s pretty safe in there with all that cushioning. Fetuses are much more resilient than you think.”
“Thank god.” She covers her stomach with her hand, and I place my hand over hers.
“Now just hold tight for a few minutes. The ultrasound tech should be in to take you over to see the baby.”
“Thank you.”
“You’re welcome. Here is my card. I work here in emergency a few nights a week, but I have a practice downtown with a few other doctors. If you’re looking for prenatal care, give my office a call and they will set you up with an appointment.”
“Awesome.” Mackenzie takes the card, then hands it to me since she doesn’t have a purse.
Tucking it into my wallet, I watch the doctor leave.
Once the door is closed, I turn to Mackenzie. “You didn’t answer my question.”
“What question?” She tips her head to the side.
If I didn’t see the sparkle of amusement in her gaze, I would be offended.
“You are an evil woman,” I growl, forcing her back onto the table.
Her hands slide through my hair.
“That’s payback for asking if it’s your baby,” she says with a smile.
I wrap my hand around the lower part of her jaw and gently tilt her head back. I dip my face close to hers until we are sharing the same breath.
“Let’s try this again. Mackenzie, I’m crazy in love with you.” My thumb rubs across her smooth skin, and my eyes stay locked with hers. I see them fill with tears.
“I love you, too.” Her eyes close, and I swipe away one lone tear that falls from under her lashes before placing my mouth against hers.
“Miss Reed, I’m ready for you. Just follow me,” a woman says as she pokes her head into the room.
Mackenzie wipes the tears off her cheeks with jerky movements. Helping her sit up, I press one more quick kiss to her lips, then help her down off the table. Taking her hand, we head down the hall into another room, where a machine is set up next to a hospital bed.
“Panties off. Put this on. I’ll be back in just a moment.” The woman hands over a paper robe before leaving us alone in the room.
Kicking off her heels, she turns her back to me. “Can you help me out of my dress?”
Stepping up behind her, I undo the button at the top, then start to unzip the dress. It exposes inch after inch of creamy, freckled skin.
“This is not exactly the way I saw myself getting you out of this dress tonight.” I kiss her shoulder, then the exposed skin of her back.
“It’s not the way I thought it would be, either.”
She shivers as I slide the dress off completely. I curse under my breath when I see the lace bra and panties she has on. A dark-blue lace the same color of her dress, sheer enough to show off her beautiful skin.
“I don’t think you need to take off my bra.” She laughs, taking a step away from me and my hands that had started to unhook the clasp of her bra.
“Habit.”
I help her step out of the dress, then help her put on the paper robe. She slips off her panties before she gets onto the bed. Hearing a knock, I call, “Come in!”
The tech steps back in and dims the lights.
“Is this your first child?” she asks, moving to the machine on the opposite side of me and typing on the odd-looking keyboard.
“Yes,” we both say at the same time.
I take Mackenzie’s hand, and we listen to the woman explain exactly what she is going to do, then I watch her place the wand beneath the end of Mackenzie’s gown.
“You are going to feel some pressure, but there shouldn’t be any pain,” the woman says.
Mackenzie’s hand tightens around mine. “All right, relax for me,” she instructs.
It takes a minute, but soon she finds whatever it is she’s looking for—not that I can make anything out in the dark, grainy image on the screen.
“See here?” She points at the screen with the cursor. “That’s your baby.”
Squinting, I make out a head, but it mostly looks like a lima bean and nothing like a baby.
“Let’s see if we can hear the heart.” She flips a switch.
That’s when my world is rocked. That’s when it hits me. The sound of a swoosh, swoosh, swoosh fills the room. I drop my forehead to Mackenzie’s and squeeze my eyes closed. “That’s our baby,” I say.
Mackenzie sobs. I want to gather her against me, but I know I can’t. The sound is the most beautiful thing I have ever heard in my life.
“The heartbeat sounds great—it’s really strong,” the woman says.
I lift my head and look at the screen, at our child.
“I’m going to give the doctor the results of the ultrasound and let her go over them with you.” She removes the wand and takes the condom off the end, tossing it and then her gloves in the garbage. She washes her hands. “Would you like me to print out a couple photos for you two to take with you?”
“Yes,” we both say. She looks between the two of us and smiles. “Go on and get dressed. The doctor will be back in a few minutes to go over everything with you,” she says as she leaves the room.
She hands me a few pictures before closing the door behind her.
Looking at the grainy image of our child, I ball my hand into a fist and try to control the worry that fills the pit of my stomach. Irrational worry. Tucking the picture away, I turn and help Mackenzie off the table, then take the paper gown from her and roll it into a ball and toss it into the trash as she starts to get dressed.
“I think we should move in together and get married.”
“What?” She turns toward me and frowns as she starts to put on her dress.
“I think we should move in together and get married,” I repeat, the idea making something inside of me feel more centered, more at ease.
“Did you hit your head?” She shakes hers before turning her back on me.
“No.”
“Then you’ve lost your mind,” she mutters. I step up behind her, wondering if I maybe have lost my mind. “We are not going to throw our already-crazy relationship into fast-forward just because I’m pregnant,” she says.
I don’t have a chance to tell her that I want to marry her because I’m in love with her. Because she is the best thing that has ever happened to me. Because I can’t imagine things any other way. The second she finishes her statement, someone else knocks on the door.
“Come in,” I growl, zipping up her dress.
She looks at me like I’ve lost my mind.
“Great news, guys.” The doctor from earlier steps into the room. “Everything looks great. The baby’s heartbeat is normal, and he or she seems to be developing well. So you’re free to go. Just make sure you set up an appointment as soon as you can.”
“I will, and thank you again,” Mackenzie says, shaking her hand.
“Are you ready?” Mackenzie asks after the doctor leaves.
Part of me wants to force the issue of us getting married and living together, but seeing the exhaustion in her eyes, I know that now is not the time to harp on it.
“Yeah, gorgeous.” I take her hand in mine. When we get out of the hospital, we have no choice but to catch a cab back to my place. I make sure that Mackenzie is buckled in on the ride home. Once we arrive at my place, we shower together and then get into bed and watch TV until we both fall asleep.
Hearing a song playing, I blink my eyes open. The room is completely dark, and Mac is tucked into my side with her hand resting on my abs. Hearing the song again, I sit up. I realize it’s Mac’s phone. Reaching over her to the bedside table, I pick it up and see in the light from the screen that she’s opening her eyes. I lie back down.
“Who is it?” she asks sleepily.
“
Your sister Fawn,” I say.
She puts her hand to my gut and sits up, taking the phone from me and putting it to her ear.
“Hey, is everything okay?” she answers. “Oh my god! Shut up!” The tone of her voice changes from worried to excited in the blink of an eye, making me curious.
Sitting up, I reach over and turn on the light. Her happy, smiling eyes meet mine.
“I’m so happy for you—even if I am a little mad.” She tucks the blanket under her arms. “Duh. Of course we will celebrate when you get home. All right. Love you, too. Tell Levi I said congrats, and give him a hug from me.”
She hangs up.
“What’s going on?”
“Fawn and Levi got married in Vegas tonight. I’m so happy for them.”
“Me too,” I agree, leaving out the part of me being a little jealous at the same time. Why didn’t I think about taking her to Vegas?
“Fawn wants to have a small reception when they get home to celebrate.” She grins before turning and dropping the phone on the side table.
“Do your parents know?”
“No.” She shakes her head.
I wince, remembering Christmas dinner. “Your dad is going to be pissed.”
“I know, but I think they did the right thing. If they had a normal wedding, Mom would have taken over the entire event, and Levi’s mom would have been right there cheering Mom on. I think it’s better that they got married in Vegas. Even if I’m a little annoyed that I didn’t get to be there with her since that is something we’ve talked about since we were kids playing dress-up.”
“We can go to Vegas and get married . . . ,” I say.
She laughs like I’m joking, only I’m not joking at all. I’m being 100 percent serious.
“We’re not getting married,” she says, brushing me off and shaking her head with a smile on her face.
Lying back down in the bed, she closes her eyes. “I’m so tired.” She yawns.
Sleep . . . seriously? Watching her breathing even out, I lie back down. But I don’t sleep. I spend the rest of the night awake, wondering why the hell she doesn’t want to marry me and what I can do to convince her that she does.