Stumbling into Love
Page 31

“You are going to feel some pressure, but there shouldn’t be any pain,” the woman says.
Mackenzie’s hand tightens around mine. “All right, relax for me,” she instructs.
It takes a minute, but soon she finds whatever it is she’s looking for—not that I can make anything out in the dark, grainy image on the screen.
“See here?” She points at the screen with the cursor. “That’s your baby.”
Squinting, I make out a head, but it mostly looks like a lima bean and nothing like a baby.
“Let’s see if we can hear the heart.” She flips a switch.
That’s when my world is rocked. That’s when it hits me. The sound of a swoosh, swoosh, swoosh fills the room. I drop my forehead to Mackenzie’s and squeeze my eyes closed. “That’s our baby,” I say.
Mackenzie sobs. I want to gather her against me, but I know I can’t. The sound is the most beautiful thing I have ever heard in my life.
“The heartbeat sounds great—it’s really strong,” the woman says.
I lift my head and look at the screen, at our child.
“I’m going to give the doctor the results of the ultrasound and let her go over them with you.” She removes the wand and takes the condom off the end, tossing it and then her gloves in the garbage. She washes her hands. “Would you like me to print out a couple photos for you two to take with you?”
“Yes,” we both say. She looks between the two of us and smiles. “Go on and get dressed. The doctor will be back in a few minutes to go over everything with you,” she says as she leaves the room.
She hands me a few pictures before closing the door behind her.
Looking at the grainy image of our child, I ball my hand into a fist and try to control the worry that fills the pit of my stomach. Irrational worry. Tucking the picture away, I turn and help Mackenzie off the table, then take the paper gown from her and roll it into a ball and toss it into the trash as she starts to get dressed.
“I think we should move in together and get married.”
“What?” She turns toward me and frowns as she starts to put on her dress.
“I think we should move in together and get married,” I repeat, the idea making something inside of me feel more centered, more at ease.
“Did you hit your head?” She shakes hers before turning her back on me.
“No.”
“Then you’ve lost your mind,” she mutters. I step up behind her, wondering if I maybe have lost my mind. “We are not going to throw our already-crazy relationship into fast-forward just because I’m pregnant,” she says.
I don’t have a chance to tell her that I want to marry her because I’m in love with her. Because she is the best thing that has ever happened to me. Because I can’t imagine things any other way. The second she finishes her statement, someone else knocks on the door.
“Come in,” I growl, zipping up her dress.
She looks at me like I’ve lost my mind.
“Great news, guys.” The doctor from earlier steps into the room. “Everything looks great. The baby’s heartbeat is normal, and he or she seems to be developing well. So you’re free to go. Just make sure you set up an appointment as soon as you can.”
“I will, and thank you again,” Mackenzie says, shaking her hand.
“Are you ready?” Mackenzie asks after the doctor leaves.
Part of me wants to force the issue of us getting married and living together, but seeing the exhaustion in her eyes, I know that now is not the time to harp on it.
“Yeah, gorgeous.” I take her hand in mine. When we get out of the hospital, we have no choice but to catch a cab back to my place. I make sure that Mackenzie is buckled in on the ride home. Once we arrive at my place, we shower together and then get into bed and watch TV until we both fall asleep.
Hearing a song playing, I blink my eyes open. The room is completely dark, and Mac is tucked into my side with her hand resting on my abs. Hearing the song again, I sit up. I realize it’s Mac’s phone. Reaching over her to the bedside table, I pick it up and see in the light from the screen that she’s opening her eyes. I lie back down.
“Who is it?” she asks sleepily.
“Your sister Fawn,” I say.
She puts her hand to my gut and sits up, taking the phone from me and putting it to her ear.
“Hey, is everything okay?” she answers. “Oh my god! Shut up!” The tone of her voice changes from worried to excited in the blink of an eye, making me curious.
Sitting up, I reach over and turn on the light. Her happy, smiling eyes meet mine.
“I’m so happy for you—even if I am a little mad.” She tucks the blanket under her arms. “Duh. Of course we will celebrate when you get home. All right. Love you, too. Tell Levi I said congrats, and give him a hug from me.”
She hangs up.
“What’s going on?”
“Fawn and Levi got married in Vegas tonight. I’m so happy for them.”
“Me too,” I agree, leaving out the part of me being a little jealous at the same time. Why didn’t I think about taking her to Vegas?
“Fawn wants to have a small reception when they get home to celebrate.” She grins before turning and dropping the phone on the side table.
“Do your parents know?”
“No.” She shakes her head.
I wince, remembering Christmas dinner. “Your dad is going to be pissed.”
“I know, but I think they did the right thing. If they had a normal wedding, Mom would have taken over the entire event, and Levi’s mom would have been right there cheering Mom on. I think it’s better that they got married in Vegas. Even if I’m a little annoyed that I didn’t get to be there with her since that is something we’ve talked about since we were kids playing dress-up.”
“We can go to Vegas and get married . . . ,” I say.
She laughs like I’m joking, only I’m not joking at all. I’m being 100 percent serious.
“We’re not getting married,” she says, brushing me off and shaking her head with a smile on her face.
Lying back down in the bed, she closes her eyes. “I’m so tired.” She yawns.
Sleep . . . seriously? Watching her breathing even out, I lie back down. But I don’t sleep. I spend the rest of the night awake, wondering why the hell she doesn’t want to marry me and what I can do to convince her that she does.
“Morning, sleepyhead.” I greet Mackenzie with a kiss when she wanders out of the bedroom looking like she’s still half-asleep. Her hair is a mess, and she has an indent on her cheek from the pillow. She’s always beautiful to me, but there is nothing better than seeing her first thing in the morning wearing my T-shirt because she spent the night in my arms.
“Morning.”
She squints her eyes at me, then at the coffeepot in my hand, which makes me smile.
Getting her a mug, I pour her a cup and hand it to her. I lean back against the counter and watch her wander around the kitchen, fixing the coffee to her liking.
“What’s the plan for the day?” she asks once she’s finished and taken her first sip from her cup.
“I have to work in a couple hours.”
“Oh.” She pouts before taking another sip of her coffee.
“Sorry, gorgeous.”
“It’s okay. Maybe I’ll see if Libby wants to go see a movie with me.”
She leans back against the counter across from where I’m standing. Her eyes heat as they slide up my abs and my chest.
I start to take a step toward her, but then I see her eyes stop on the bullet wounds on my shoulder. My whole body tenses because I know what’s coming.
“You’ve never told me how you got those,” she says quietly.
My hand tightens around the mug in my grasp.
“It was during a bust,” I say. Then I ask, “What movie do you want to see?”
“Why don’t you like talking about it?”
“Because I don’t.” I jerk a hand through my hair, and she flinches. “Sorry. Look, it’s—”
“It’s not a big deal.” She cuts me off with a shrug, but I know that it is a big deal because I can see the hurt in her expression. “I should go.”