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He glances at me. My heart is thumping.
Why did I never think about marriage being a possibility?
With a baby comes a binding tie—one most women connect to marriage. It never crossed my mind that Tyler would want to marry me—or that I might want to marry him.
Then again, it’s only been two days and I’ve barely been able to think at all.
“Yep,” I murmur. “I’m ready to go to bed now.”
Tyler squeezes my thigh as his mom apologizes profusely. I tell her that there’s no need to worry. Privately, I think that, to her, marriage and babies are a reflexive action. To me, they’re run-like-fucking-hell actions.
“I’m really sorry to have to leave you guys, but I’m exhausted, so I think I’m going to call it a night,” I say softly.
“Of course. Sickness takes it out of you.” Kate nods. “I hope we can see each other again before we leave at the weekend. Perhaps for lunch.”
“I would love that.” I smile. As long as she doesn’t mention weddings again.
I say goodnight to Tessa and Todd and stand. I grab my purse from the side of the sofa and freeze when Tyler talks.
“What are you doing?”
“I’m going?”
“Where exactly?”
“To bed.”
“At your apartment?”
“Um, yes?”
He shakes his head and stands. Then he crosses the apartment in a few long strides and snatches my purse. Before I can ask him what he’s doing, he scoops me up, one hand around my back and another beneath my knees. I squeak and grab him, the sudden motion upsetting my stomach a little.
“What are you doing?!”
“Putting you to bed,” he answers, carrying me calmly past his family and down the hall to his room.
“Tyler! I can’t believe you!”
He laughs. “Be a love and open the door.”
I twist the handle and shove the door open. He carries me in and sets me on the bed.
“Lie back.”
“Why?”
He puts his hands on my shoulders and slowly pushes me back. “You’re not going anywhere tonight. You’re ill. I’m going to keep an eye on you.”
“I’m sick from hormones and being a human incubator. You can’t keep me with you every second to hold my hair and wipe my forehead when I’m vomiting.”
He peels my jeans down my legs then sits me up and removes my shirt. “I can try. Into bed.”
“Such a fucking hero,” I mumble, climbing into bed and scooting over to the middle. I roll over so I’m facing his side, and the scent of him that lingers on his pillow encompasses me.
Tyler walks around the bed and switches the television on. He turns the volume down to a low hum. He sets the controller down on the nightstand next to me and kneels. A cold draft flutters over my bare skin when he whips back the covers.
A chill that’s quickly alleviated by his hand on my stomach.
