“What if it’s a girl?” I throw the question out there, and then look over my shoulder wondering where the hell my woman is. She said she was running upstairs to grab a sweatshirt, but that was forty-five minutes ago.
Before Layla and Axelle moved in with me, I had no idea how long it took a woman to put herself together. Now I’m convinced that women spend at least half their lives involved in some kind of beautification ritual. But almost an hour to put on a sweatshirt? Huh…
“If it’s a girl, that’s easy.” Raven shrugs, licking her fingers. “Bertha.”
Jonah and I cringe simultaneously.
“Shit, woman. You’re naming a baby, not a car.” I lean to see past the crowd of kids currently surrounding Axelle. No sign of Layla anywhere. A flicker of panic rolls my stomach. What the fuck is keeping her? “Good luck with the baby names, bro.” I clap Jonah on the shoulder. “Sounds like you’re fucked.”
He pulls his wife into his arms and feeds her a bite of his food. “I love Bertha, baby. It’s perfect.”
“Ew, Jonah,” she says around a mouthful. “I was kidding.”
Unable to sit still another second, I let them know I’ll be right back and head up to check on Layla. I tell myself that she’s on the phone with her parents or stuck talking to a neighbor, but there’s a voice in my head that reminds me of Valentine’s Day. Warning me that what I have is too sweet to be real, and that I could lose it if I don’t pay close enough attention. I quicken my pace until I’m at my condo.
She’s not in the kitchen, living room, or front deck. I move down the hallway to our bedroom. It’s empty, but the bathroom door is shut. I knock twice and stick my ear to the door. “Mouse? You okay?”
The toilet flushes. “Oh, yeah. I’m fine.” The faucet runs, and I hear what sounds like her spitting.
I’m about to knock again, this time more forcefully, when the door opens. She smiles up at me, but her face is pale as hell. “Sorry. My stomach feels off.” She moves into my arms and slumps in my hold.
“Damn, sweetheart.” I kiss her head and scoop her legs up to carry her to the bed. “I’ll have Jonah take over at the party so I can come up and be with you.”
She grabs my hand. “No, don’t do that. Just give me a second. I actually feel a little better. But, um, can you just sit with me for a second?”
Like she has to ask? I throw myself on the bed and lie down next to her, pressing her head to my chest. “When did you start feeling sick?”
“I’ve been a little off all night, but I thought it was just nerves. Then I was walking up to change, and one of the catering guys walked by with a bunch of hamburgers. The smell of the cooked meat—” She covers her mouth and burps into her hand.
“That was hot.” I chuckle and pull her in tighter. Not a damn thing this girl could do would turn me off.
I’m fucking hooked. Pussy whipped. Tied down.
And over-fucking-joyed about it.
She giggles and nuzzles into my side. “Mmm, now I’m hungry. We have chips and salsa, right?”
“Yeah, if you get there fast enough. Raven’s inhaling food like a Hoover down there.”
“Well, she’s eating for two. I remember what that was like. One minute you’re starving to death and the next you’re…” Her body tenses against mine.
“Mouse? You okay?”
She doesn’t move.
“Shit, come on, I’ll get you to the bathroom.” I scoop her up.
She wiggles out of my hold. “No, wait.” Her eyebrows pinch together, and she counts on her fingers. “Oh my gosh. That’s impossible,” she whispers.
“Layla,” I growl. “You’re freaking me out. What the hell’s going on?”
Her eyes meet mine, an expression on her face I haven’t seen before. Ever. It’s a mix of absolute joy and pure fucking fear.
I cup her face and lean down. “Shit, baby. What?”
“I thought… it must not have been me.” She shakes her head, her eyes distant. “It was him.”
“What was him? Help me out here, I’m fucking dying.”
“I’m not infertile. He is.” She sits up on her knees, practically bouncing, and her brown eyes sparkle. “That’s why he refused the testing. They wanted to test me to try to figure out why I wasn’t getting pregnant.”
“Hold up, are you saying—”
“He must’ve known what I’d find out. The tests would prove that Axelle wasn’t his.”
“Wait, so you’re—”
“It would have exposed his lie. Then I’d have had every right to leave, and he’d have to explain how I got pregnant.”
“Mouse, baby. Are you telling me what I think you’re telling me?” Hope explodes in my chest like an A-bomb.
“I think I’m pregnant.”
“Yes!”
Layla covers her ears from the power of my outburst.
I jump on the bed with both feet, hooting and hollering and pounding my chest. “Fuck yeah!”