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My heart is in my throat.
And, in his eyes.
“I’m thinking about myself, my future, my responsibilities so differently because of you,” he says and my heart swells. “So, yeah, I’m worried about the DNA test. But that’s not what has given me nightmares. It’s that I’ve done anything to hurt you or allowed anything to hurt you.” His eyes are glittering with fire that speaks of loyalty, constancy, and forever.
“I know, baby …” I say and want so badly to put him in my pocket and protect him from everything that’s coming this week. “I feel the same way.”
“You’re my priority. Because you are my future. You have a view of the world that I want to use as my lens for the rest of my fucking life. Even when it feel like it’s do or die, I know that you and I are a sure thing.”
“Never doubt that,” I say.
He runs his hands through his hair. “Everything feels so complicated, except for us.”
“I don’t care if I’m not the heir. I don’t care if they remove me. The only thing I need is you.” He stands up, naked as the day he was born. Even soft, his penis is beautiful and thick. His whole body is beautiful and thick. I let my eyes feast on him, and when I get to those eyes—those fucking eyes—I blurt out, “I’m pregnant.”
TRUTH
GIGI
“You’re what?” I ask and sit back down on the bed, only briefly registering the cold, wet sheets bunching under my bare ass. I’m dazed and a million questions and emotions flood me as I try to recover from the curve ball she just threw at me.
“Hayes.” She walks over to me, her blue eyes crinkled in concern. “Are you okay?” she asks and then lays a hesitant hand on my shoulder.
“Did you say you’re pregnant?” I ask, dazed, but fuck me, also praying to God I wasn’t hearing things.
She nods, her eyes wide, her blonde brows raised in uncertainty.
Relief, joy, gratitude rush through me like a current and washes away my hangover, my dread and my regret.
I jump off the bed and sweep her into my arms. “Marry me,” I growl in her ear.
She throws her arms around my neck. “Of course I’m going to marry you.” She laughs happily and presses a kiss to my cheek.
I pull back and stare at her. “When did you find out?” I ask.
“Today,” she beams. “I had a blood test.”
“How far along?”
“Ten weeks,” she says, and I squeeze tight before I remember myself and let her go.
“You can hug me,” she says.
“I don’t want to hurt el bambino.” I put her down and kneel in front of her and press my cheek to her stomach. “There’s a baby in there,” I say in complete wonder and awe.
She runs her fingers through my hair and says, “Hayes, we have so much we need to talk about. I wasn’t going to tell you about the baby until later, when all of this was over, but then you said all of that romantic stuff and it just came out,” I say.
“So, what you’re saying is that you’d like to table this conversation?” I ask and stand back up. I lean in to kiss her and she leans back.
“Nah, you need a shower and a toothbrush,” she says and jumps out of my grasp.
“Go do that and then come down and let’s talk.”
* * *
I walk into the kitchen to find her sitting at the table, two mugs on the table
in front of her. A white envelope sits on the table in front of her. It has my name and social security number on it. My stomach plummets to my knees. I know right away it’s the DNA test results. But, I ask anyway.
