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Jack woke the next morning with the certainty that something wasn’t right. For one thing, Kathleen wasn’t wrapped in his arms, snoring softly against his neck. For another, there were muffled sounds of her throwing up in the bathroom.
“Kathleen?” he called, knocking on the door when he discovered it locked. “What’s wrong? Open the door. Let me in.”
“Hang on.” The toilet flushed, followed shortly thereafter by the sound of running water and the telltale creak of the ancient towel rack. Kathleen opened the door and smiled at him weakly.
He took one look at her unusually pale complexion and the dark circles under her eyes and made up his mind. “That’s it, Kathleen. You’re taking the day off and staying in bed.”
“I told you, I can’t.” Kathleen patted him on the arm and went to the closet.
“The hell you can’t. You’re sick.”
“I’m not sick, Jack.”
“No? Then what do you call that?” he demanded, pointing toward the bathroom.
“I’m not sick, Jack. I’m pregnant.”
For a moment, Jack’s heart stopped entirely. Then it began to thunder so hard against the walls of his chest that he felt light-headed. He leaned against the wall for support.
“What?”
Her lips quirked slightly. “I’m pregnant.”
“Are you sure? You’ve been to the doctor?”
“Yes, I’m sure. And no, I haven’t. But I don’t need to go to the doctor to know. He’s in there.” Kathleen took his hand and laid it over the soft, natural swell of her flat belly. There was just a tiny bit of hardness there beneath her satiny skin. Why hadn’t he noticed it before?
“He?” he whispered.
“Yep. He.”
“Maybe it’s a girl.”
“It’s not.” The confidence in her voice nearly had him convinced.
“And you know this how?”
“I just know. He’s going to be big and strong, a force of nature just like his daddy.”
Jack chuckled, then went down on his knees and pressed tender kisses to her abdomen. “A boy. A son. My son. I can’t believe it. You are amazing, Kathleen.”
She laughed at that, cupping his head with her hands. “It’s not like I did it alone, Jack Callaghan. But don’t go bragging to the world just yet.”
“Why not?”
“Because it’s bad luck to say anything before twelve weeks.”
Bad luck? Jack’s strong protective instincts rushed to the surface. His wife had just told him they were going to have a baby. He would allow nothing, including bad luck or any other force in the universe, to threaten their happiness.
“How far along are you?”
“Nearly three months. You probably knocked me up on our wedding night,” she told him, amusement evident in her voice.
Or the night of the break-in, he thought. That night, things had changed. A new connection had snapped into place. At the time, he’d thought that the danger had made them appreciate each other more, but what if it had been the spark of new life?
“Why bad luck?” he asked.
“Because most miscarriages occur in the first trimester. Announcing anything before three months is tempting fate.”
Jack’s head snapped up. “Miscarriage?” The word sent shards of icy fear into his chest. His mother had had several. After each one, she would be inconsolable for weeks, and his father would grow quiet and distant. Was that kind of thing hereditary, he wondered? Did he carry something in his genes that put Kathleen at risk?
He got to his feet and folded her in his arms, as if to shield her from the possibility of anything bad. He’d experienced enough bad for the both of them.
“I’m sure everything is fine,” Kathleen told him, sensing his thoughts. “I feel wonderful, except for maybe being a bit more tired than usual.”
“And vomiting.”
“And vomiting,” she conceded. “But only first thing in the morning. I feel fine once I get something on my stomach.”
Jack made a mental note to have crackers and a glass of water on the nightstand for her from here on out.
“You should see a doctor,” he said firmly. “Today.”
She laughed softly and stroked his hair. “No, Jack. There’s not much a doctor can do at this point except confirm what I already know.”
Was that true? Shite, he didn’t know. But going to the doctor seemed like something they should do. Her sister just had a baby not too long ago. She would know.
“What does Erin say?”
“Nothing, because I haven’t told her yet.”
“Why not?” Surely the twelve-week rule didn’t apply to close family.
Hurt flashed in her eyes. “Because I wasn’t going to tell anyone before I told you, Jack.”
His heart did that stutter thing again, the same as it did every time he felt the awe and wonder of the fact that this amazing woman loved him.