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“Looks like urgent care is calling you.”
“Can you hit speaker for me?” He nods, and I answer. “Hello?”
“Grace Sinclair?” the faceless voice asks from the other end of the phone.
“This is she.”Shit.I just stabbed myself in the eye.
“I’m calling with the bloodwork panel you had done yesterday. Were you aware you’re eight weeks pregnant?”
My mascara hits the white marble counter and bounces to the floor as I wrap my hands around the sink in an attempt not to fall. Then I see Ares’s reflection through the mirror. We’re both in shock.
“I’m sorry. Could you repeat that?” I ask because there’s no way I just heard them right,right?
“These blood tests are pretty accurate. It appears you’re eight weeks pregnant. The anti-nausea medication we prescribed yesterday is safe to continue to take as needed, but we recommend you follow up with your ob-gyn. Losing as muchweight as you’ve lost isn’t safe for you or the baby. They’ll be better equipped to help you handle your condition.”
“Condition,” I repeat as a hysterical laugh gets caught in my throat.
“Doctor Peters believes it’s hyperemesis gravidarum. Your OB will be able to go into more detail. But in the meantime, you need to rest and stay hydrated. If your vomit becomes discolored or bloody, please go right to the hospital.”
Ares picks up the phone and holds it between us as he asks, “What do you mean discolored? It’s puke. Isn’t it always discolored?”
His hand wraps around my neck and squeezes, and I hadn’t realized I was holding my breath until that moment when it wooshes out of me.
“Brown or tinged with blood. Do you have any other questions, Ms. Sinclair?”
I stare at the phone in his hand and lose focus.
“We’ll make the appointment. Thank you.” Ares hangs up the phone and sits me on the counter next to my mascara. “Baby...” he whispers, and I force myself to focus on him. “You’re scaring me, Grace.”
“Good. Because I’m pretty fucking scared too. I can’t be pregnant. My life is a mess. I don’t have a job. I don’t have health insurance. I was proud of myself because I had a job with my cousin Lilah lined up, and I got you back. My biggest accomplishment today was that I only puked twice.”
“Well that’s good,” he tells me, trying to be supportive.
“It’s only eight a.m.,” I whisper. “Give it time.”
“A baby,” he whispers and presses his lips to my forehead. “You’re having our baby.”
My head spins, and my world tilts. “You’re not mad?”
“No, Grace. I’m so far from mad, I’m in another galaxy.” He drops to his knee, and I kick him in the chest.
“I swear to God, Ares Wilder. If you drop to your knee and propose right now, I will withhold sex one year for every second it takes for you to stand back up.”
He jumps up to his feet, and I smile—not quite a laugh but definitely a smile—back at him.
“How are we going to do this?” How is he not losing his mind when internally, I’m screaming and shaking in a corner?
“The same way we do everything else. Together,” he assures me. I half expect him to laugh after that, but he doesn’t. He just cups my face in his hands. “Do you love me, Grace?”
I nod, unable to say anything.
“Do you want to marry me one day?”
“Yeah.” I smile again, and his sexy smile shines back.
“Then we’ll figure it out. It was going to happen one day anyway. What difference does the order make?”
“Really?” I reach for him and straighten his tie. “It’s just that simple for you?”
