“We postponed the next two weeks of concerts.”
I smile, loving that he can read my thoughts.
“I’ll take you anywhere you want to go, Kylie, just name the destination.”
His eyes alone reveal the honesty in his statement, much less the promise in his words.
“Even Fiji?”
He chuckles his loud, boisterous laugh. “Even Fiji. Although I may need to get a bigger plane.”
Not thinking, I press my lips against his. I’ve missed his mouth on mine the past three days, and if the deep moan escaping his throat is any indication, he’s been missing mine as well.
Our kiss starts slow but soon progresses to needy. The past three days is the longest we haven’t been sexually active since we’ve been back together. I went two years without any form of sexual contact, so I had a lot of missed opportunities to make up for, but it doesn’t feel right enjoying life when my best friend just lost hers, so I inch back away before I’ve gotten my fill.
As his fingers brush the heat on my cheeks, Slater’s eyes drop to mine. “Where do you want to go, baby?”
“Take me home.”
He nods before placing a final kiss to my lips, then he walks us toward the impressive-looking plane. Just as we’re about to board, his phone vibrates in his pocket. His smile vanishes when he glances at the screen. I understand why. My heart skids into my stomach when I see who is calling. It’s Dr. Webster.
“Hello.” Slater’s short greeting can’t hide the tremble of his voice. “Uh huh, yep.”
His brows scrunch before his watering eyes snap to me. After he releases my hand from his sweaty grip, he scrubs the bristly hair on his head. The vein working overtime in his neck hits me with a severe bout of nausea. Feeling my knees buckle, I sit on the ground, believing it’s the safest option. I don’t want to faint on the hard asphalt.
After disconnecting his call, Slater gathers me in his arms, then walks us into the plane without a word leaving his mouth. He sits us in a large white leather recliner before drawing me close to his chest. The rapid beat of his heart indicates how panicked he is.
I thought I knew my body better than this. I was so certain I wasn’t sick again; I only agreed to the tests to relieve Slater’s stress, not increase it. I pant, unable to fill my lungs with air. I think I’m in shock—and perhaps even on the verge of a panic attack.
“Breathe, baby, breathe.”
Slater snags a bottle of water off the table next to us, undoes the lid, then lifts it to my lips. The water trickling into my mouth is heavenly to my dry throat, but it adds to the queasiness of my stomach, and don’t get me started on my screaming lungs.
“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” My watering eyes float up from Slater’s chest to his eyes. “I can’t put you through this again. You don’t deserve to go through this again—”
He presses his index finger against my mouth. “You don’t have ALL.”
“What?” I’m certain I heard him wrong.
I didn’t. “You don’t have ALL.”
He chuckles while scrubbing his hand down his face. When his eyes return to mine, his laughter gets so loud, it vibrates through both his body and mine. A smile tugs at my lips. Not because I don’t have ALL, but because of his infectious laugh.
He exhales so deeply it dries the tears on my cheeks. “I love you, baby.”
“I love you too.” My reply is hesitant, unsure why his mood shifted from panicked to manic in a matter of seconds.
He balances his forehead against mine, its clamminess undeniable. “It’s lucky we added number three back onto your list.”
I yank back as my heart rate soars. “I’m pregnant?”
As a blistering smile stretches across his face, he nods.
Holy shit!
Chapter Forty-Three
Slater
