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We’re in a fancy hotel in Chicago now. It was Logan’s idea to get away for the week and have a break. He was burnt out from his years with the NFL and said that a week-long getaway would do us both a world of good.
So far, it has.
Well, apart from the fact that my phone has been constantly vibrating. I take another call, trying to sound professional while Logan walks his fingers up my bare back.
“Blaze Hopkins has requested an appointment and it can’t wait, because he’s going away on a press tour,” my PA says on the phone.
“Blaze, the Hollywood actor?” I ask. I immediately think of Leila. Blaze is her celebrity crush. She’ll die when she finds out I’ve got him as a client.
“Fine, send me the address and tell him I’ll be there at four.”
I hang up and catch Logan’s hard look.
“What?” I ask, covering myself up. Logan sits up—the satin sheets drop and give me another eyeful of his beautiful man chest. My heart dances.
“You’re on a sabbatical,” he says. “Besides, your tests will be coming back from the doctor today.”
I sigh and drag a hand through my hair. “You worry too much.” Then I slide out of bed and try and fail to fasten the clasp of my bra. Logan slides over and fixes it for me.
I turn around to face him and pick up my shirt. “It’s just a quick visit. I’ll take his measurements, jot down some notes, and I’ll be done.”
“Where is it?” he asks with a lifted brow.
My phone vibrates. I look at it and groan.
“Shoot. It’s in New York.”
Before Logan can argue, my phone rings and I take the call.
My arms start to grow numb as I listen to the person on the other end of the phone. I have the entire conversation on autopilot. By the time I end the call and look at Logan, my stomach is flipping like a fish out of water.
“That was the doctor, wasn’t it?” he asks, his face paling. He grabs his hair with both hands, reading my face. “It’s bad, isn’t it? What is it?” he asks, his voice shaken.
I study the worry on his face and my whole body explodes with love. The man has endured so many tragedies, his mind now automatically goes to worst-case scenarios. I caress his cheek.
“I’m fine,” I insist. Then I take his hand and rest it on my bloated stomach. “I’m pregnant.”
Logan searches my eyes as though trying to decide whether I’m playing a prank on him or not. I guess he doesn’t find anything, because he scoops me up in his arms and buries his face in my neck.
“But your tests were negative,” he says, looking at me again.
I shrug. “The doctor said that can happen sometimes. He’s prescribed some medication for the nausea and has told me to rest.”
Logan jumps up and starts marching around like a military soldier. “That’s it then. You are not going to New York.”
“Logan!” I protest. He gives me a look so hard I can’t argue.
“You’ve worked yourself into the ground. Now, more than ever, you need to rest.”
I suck in a deep breath and sense that my resolve is crumbling, Logan takes my hands and squeezes them. “Is there anyone you know in New York who can visit the client for you? Like you said, it’s just the measurements you need.”
I look away to think, then smile as Leila’s face floods my mind. “There is one person,” I say, thoughtful. “I guess I could offer her my consult fee and do the rest of the work online.”
Logan grins and picks me up in a big bear hug. “Good. Make the call and come back to bed. I’m going to make it my mission to tend to your every need until the nausea goes away.”
I snort. “You might be doing that for the next seven months.”
Logan kisses me, his energy buzzing from every pore, and I can’t help but grin.
