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Chapter 6
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The sound of Chloe getting sick has me sitting up in bed. This is the second morning this has occurred. I would assume she’s pregnant, but she had her period, so the sickness has me worried.
“Angel,” I say quietly, kneeling down beside her and placing a cool rag on the back of her neck. “I’m taking you to the doctor today. I know you said you’re fine, but you keep getting sick and I can’t stand to see you like this.”
“I’m fine,” she says sleepily, laying her head in the crook of her arm. “It will pass.”
“It’s no longer your choice. I’m taking you.” I pick her up, carry her to the sink, and help her brush her teeth before helping her get dressed, all while listening to her complain the entire time that she doesn’t want to go to the doctor, but I still call and make her appointment.
“You’re overreacting,” Chloe repeats for the twentieth time since we arrived at the doctor’s office.
I look at her and shake my head. “The doctor will tell me if I’m overreacting or not, and I don’t believe I am.”
“We should make a bet.” She laughs when I look at her and narrow my eyes. “If the doctor says there is nothing wrong and I’ve just got a bug, like I told you I do, you have to be my slave for twenty-four hours.”
“And if I win?”
“I’m at your disposal.” She smirks, and I chew the inside of my cheek like I’m debating agreeing to her terms.
“Are you not always at my disposal?” I grin, crowding her against the table.
“I could say no if I wanted to,” she breathes as I kiss down the side of her neck to the top of her shirt, imagining having my way with her right now.
“You could say no,” I agree, “but you won’t.” I growl, nipping her skin, and I laugh when she moans my name.
“Can’t you just play along?” she huffs, glaring at me when she realizes I’m laughing.
“Fine. If there is nothing wrong, I will do whatever you want. But if I’m right, you have to do whatever I say tonight.”
“Deal.” She smiles and sticks out her hand, and I give her a shake while laughing at how cute she is.
“You really are feeling better, aren’t you?” I question when she begins to laugh.
“I told you I was. I don’t know why it happens. I just feel sick sometimes.”
“I think you should take a pregnancy test, Angel.”
“I already told you I started my period.” She frowns.
“Hello,” the doctor says, walking into the room, ending the conversation between the two of us.
“How old are you?” I demand; the guy barely looks legal.
“Nolan,” Chloe hisses, elbowing me in the ribs.
“The guy hardly looks old enough to drink, let alone practice medicine,” I tell her, looking at the doctor, waiting for him to reply.
“I’m actually thirty,” he says, smiling at Chloe.
“See? He’s old. Now, can we please just get on with this?” Chloe prompts, and the doctor’s face falls at the word ‘old,’ almost making me laugh.
“What seems to be the problem?” he asks, clearing his throat.
“She’s been waking up sick,” I tell him.
He looks at me then back to Chloe. “Are you pregnant?”
“No! Sheesh.” She rolls her eyes.
“Are you sure?” he asks.
“I started my period. So, yes, I’m sure.”
“How about we just test you, just in case.”
“Fine,” she growls.
After snatching the cup he pulled out of the drawer from his hand, she leaves the room, slamming the door. That would be another reason I want to find out if she is pregnant. The past few days, it hasn’t taken much to set her off.
“I’ll be back with the results,” the doctor mutters as he leaves the room.
It only takes five minutes after Chloe gets back for the doctor to step into the room with a piece of paper.
“You’re pregnant,” the doctor says, walking over to his rolling chair to take a seat, and I freeze in place.
“That’s impossible.” Chloe looks from the doctor to me. My mouth opens and closes, but not words come out. “Maybe you were right. Maybe he’s too immature.”
“I did two separate tests to confirm it, and we can do a blood test if that’s what you like, but the results will be the same. You’re pregnant,” he growls then looks at Chloe, who I have pulled into my lap. “A lot of women think they are having their period, but really, they are having what’s called implantation bleeding.”
“We’re pregnant,” she says, and I feel her smooth hand on the side of my face. “We’re pregnant,” she repeats.
My eyes close. I finally have everything I could ever ask for.
“We need to get married,” I state.
“We are getting married.”
“No, I mean we need to get married now.” I pause, kissing her lips. “Today.”
“Do you want to go to Vegas?” she jokes, but I think that sounds like the perfect idea.
“We’ll leave tonight. Mom can plan some kind of party when we get home.”
“Nolan, slow down.”
“No, we’re getting married. I agreed with you before because you wanted to plan the wedding with our mothers, but this is no longer only about you. Now, we have our child growing inside you. Your mother and my mother will just have to get together and plan a party or some shit.”
“Plan a party?” she whispers, looking at me like I’ve lost my mind.
I ignore her and pull out my phone, sending a message to Ricket that tells him to bring the car around. Once we’re out of the office with an appointment for a few weeks later and a prescription for prenatal vitamins, we head out of the building.
“Sir, madam,” Ricket says.
Chloe rolls her eyes, making Ricket’s mouth twitch. She keeps asking him not to call her that, and I believe that, normally, he would stop, but he enjoys ruffling my angel’s feathers.
“Ricket, we need to go to the airport. Just call ahead and have the plane readied to leave within the hour for Vegas.”
“We’re not even going home for clothes?” Chloe asks.
“You can buy clothes in Vegas.”
“This is ridiculous.”
“This is what I should have done weeks ago. Hell, I should have just taken you to Vegas the first night I met you and married your ass,” I say, following her into the back of the car.
“Nolan, you’re being crazy.”
“Beautiful”—I pull her into my lap and grab her face—“this is not up for debate.”
“So we’re going to Vegas and getting married without anyone to witness it? Do you have any idea how mad our mothers are going to be?”
“We’re not going to argue about this. We’re going to Vegas,” I tell her.
She presses her lips together and shakes her head. “When your mom hears about this, don’t blame me.”
“It will be fine.” I shrug.
“If you say so,” she mutters.
*
When we arrive in Vegas, it doesn’t take long to get everything in place. Chloe has her dress sent up to the penthouse of the Paris Hotel while we’re still in the air, and I take care of a tux for myself. I also have someone brought in to do her hair and makeup along with someone to take photos. Even with this being short notice, I want Chloe to have good memories of this day.
“Who are you speaking to?” I ask her, walking into the bathroom, where there is a group of people around her.
“It’s not your mom, if that’s what you’re
asking.”
“I know you already did your damage talking to her. Who now? Your mom this time?”
“No, it’s Bre. She asked if I could meet her for dinner, but I told her no because my crazy fiancé decided we’re getting married today and flew us to Vegas.” She rolls her eyes then presses her ear closer to the phone when I give her the signal to hang up.
I told her that I didn’t want her speaking to her anymore, but apparently, she is not listening lately. Half the things I say to her go in one ear and out the other. I think she spends her days trying to think up ways to piss me off. I can’t even imagine what it will be like now that she is pregnant. As soon as she ends the call, I snatch the phone from her hand.
“I do not want you to talk to her.”
“Why?”
“She was one of the women you were with the night you were drugged.”
“You don’t still believe she had anything to do with that, do you?” she asks.
“I have no way of knowing for sure, so until I have evidence that excludes her, she is not to be trusted.”
“What reason would she have to do something like that?” she asks as a frown forms on her lips.
“People do crazy things every day. You never really know the reasoning.” I do not want her to live in fear, but the reality of the situation is we don’t know who to trust right now, and there is no way I will risk her safety.
I go to her side and spin the chair around, placing a hand on each armrest. “Let’s not think about that today.” I move a small piece of hair off her forehead with my finger. “Today is about us starting our future and enjoying the fact that you are carrying my child,” I declare, watching her face transform and a look of amazement fill her eyes.
“I still can’t believe I’m pregnant.”
“I can. I think deep down, even after you told me you had started your period, I knew you were pregnant,” I say quietly.
“How?” she whispers, leaning towards me with a tender look on her face.
“You’ve seemed more settled, more at ease, like you’re content with where you are.”
“I’m with you. How could I not be content?”
