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“How far along are you, Scarlett? Have you seen a doctor?” Emerson asks, snapping me from my rampant thoughts.
I blow out a breath. “I only found out myself six days ago, and then it was all dress fittings and wedding preparation. It definitely happened at the party, so I’d have to guess just shy of eight weeks . But no doctor yet.”
“We’ll arrange something when we get back from the honeymoon.”
“And where are we going?” I ask again since they didn’t answer the first time.
“The beach.”
“Oh.” I don’t know what else to say. Not sure why, but I expected him to say Florida or Cozumel, not something generic like that. I didn’t even pack a bathing suit or anything. All I have ist this fucking gown Tobin dressed me in.
“I didn’t pack anything,” I tell my now husband and boyfriend. I sigh, twisting my lips in shame. I should have at least insisted on packing my things, but I had more pressing issues on my mind.
“Tobin gave Antonio your sizes, and we grabbed a few things. But let’s be honest, Cupcake. I don’t think we’ll be wearing many clothes. Do you?” Alistair sucks on my neck, and I moan at the feeling.
“I hope not,” I breathe.
The wedding, the limo ride, and the emotional rollercoaster I experienced left me worn out, so I slept the entire flight.
“Have a good nap, Cupcake?” Alistair wraps an arm around me as we leave the plane’s only bedroom, the cool metal of the door handle giving me a static electric shock.
I flew with Tobin to a business meeting once when I was fourteen, and I remember the cramped seats and uncomfortable atmosphere of economy class. It probably would have been better if I wasn't sandwiched between a bickering woman and her brother in the dreaded middle seat. Meanwhile, Tobin was lounging in first class, enjoying all the luxurious comforts offered.
This flight was totally different. It is just us three, the pilot, and a flight attendant. Upon boarding, Emerson directed me to the bedroom, where I changed into sweats and a t-shirt before falling fast asleep in bed.
“I did, actually. How long was I out? It felt like just a moment ago we were boarding the plane, and now you're waking me up,” I laugh.
“Ten hours. You must have needed the sleep. While you were sleeping, I read a book on pregnancy and parenting, and it said that in the first trimester, it’s very normal to be tired all the time.”
Exiting the plane, I freeze halfway down the stairs and stare at him. “You read up on being pregnant?”
“Of course,” he says with a nod, his voice filled with confidence. “I meant what I said about you being ours. I plan on being very much all up in your business about our baby.”
“What if it’s not yours, though? It could be Emerson’s.” I worry on my bottom lip and wait for his answer.
He takes a step closer, and I feel his warm breath on my face before he gently kisses the tip of my nose. “Ours. Mine. Whether or not he or she has my DNA, I still consider this baby to be my child.”
My eyes fill with tears, and I battle to hold them back. “Okay,” I whisper.
Alistair's hand gently clasps mine, providing a sense of security as we walk toward the town car that awaits us. With a scowl on his face, Emerson emerges from the plane burdened with three hefty suitcases. “Thanks for all the help, asshole.”
“I got the most precious item. Left you with the unimportant shit.”
Ignoring him, Emerson forcefully hauls the luggage down to the car, shoving it into the trunk and shooting Alistair a furious glare as he tosses him the keys. “You’re driving,” he calls as he slides into the backseat.
Alistair rolls his eyes, a playful smirk on his lips, but he eventually climbs behind the wheel. Guess that means I’m riding in the back with my husband. The door is still open, so I get in. Instantly, Emerson leans over me and pulls the door closed.
Alistair starts the car and we drive in silence away from the airport, headed to wherever Emerson booked for our honeymoon.
“Where are we? It’s stunning,” I ask in a voice full of wonder, looking out the window at the beautiful scenery. White sand and water as far as the eye can see. The sun high in the sky tells me it’s hot but I hope it's not sweltering. The temperature wasn’t too bad when we got off the plane but I was only outside briefly before getting into the air conditioned car.
“Lykos,” Alistair Answers before Emerson can.
Holy shit, fucking Lykos.
We all sit in silence as I let that soak in, feeling lucky as hell because this place is like one of the most sought after topical destinations right now.
Inside the car, Emerson's voice cuts through the silence. “I have a doctor from the island clinic meeting us at the house to check on you and the baby.” His dark eyes lock with mine, and I feel like he can see straight into my soul. “I did some research on pregnancy and you need a lot of prenatal care. We’ll make sure you get that from the best.” He runs a hand over his dark sepia hair, and I notice tattoos on his knuckles I didn’t pay attention to before.
