“Tell me how you’re feeling.” I go over my symptoms with him, and he nods.
“Alright, then,” he says. “Day of your last period?”
“Doctor, I hardly remember my last name or where I grew up, and you’re expecting to remember the date of my last period? Not a clue.”
Cormac snorts. “She was a virgin on our wedding night. If she conceived then, she’d likely have early signs now, no?’
Sebastian nods. “Likely.” He turns to me. “I’ll give you an early urine test, but if that doesn’t show we’ll do a blood draw. What other symptoms do you have?”
“I’m tired,” I say, emphasizing my words with a yawn. “Very tired. And a bit weepy.”
He nods. “Let’s see what the test shows.”
Cormac follows me to the bathroom. “Cormac McCarthy, I will not use the toilet in front of you.”
“Fine,” he says, rolling his eyes at me. “But you won’t wait for the results of the test alone either, lass.”
“Fine,” I mimic. He narrows his eyes in warning and I slam the door.
I can hear the low murmur of their voices on the other side of the door while I do my business and pee into the little cup that came with the test. Out of sheer petulance and my husband’s high-handed ways, I make him wait a full minute before I open the door to him.
“Alright. Come in.”
He comes in, shuts the door behind him, and walks to the sink. He looks at the test. Nothing visible yet. He turns to me and reaches for my chin.
“Not a big fan of the smart mouth returning, Aileen,” he says. “Pregnant or no, I’ll expect you behave yourself.”
I shrug him away. “Ack. I’m fine,” I tell him. “No need for you to get all bossy and autocratic on me again.”
He grunts. “We’ll see about that.”
He reaches for my hand and I begrudgingly allow him to take it. I’m not sure why I’m so out of sorts, but I can’t seem to shake it.
“Would you look at that,” he says, his brows rising. He lifts the thin test off the counter and shows it to me.
Two pink lines.
“Does that mean what I think it means?” I mutter, unsure of how I feel. I’m still tired and queasy, and now I’ve just found out my body’s to be taken over by another. It’s an odd feeling.
“It does,” he says with unmistakable pride. He’s fairly grinning. “We’re to have a son. The McCarthy swimmers have done their duty.”
I snort. “First of all, that test doesn’t say son, it says pregnant. Second of all, your swimmers hit fertile territory, so this wasn’t all your doing.”
He grins at me, lifts me, and crushes me to his chest. “A baby, Aileen. I can’t believe it.”
“Neither can I,” I say. I think I may be in shock.
We head back into the bedroom where Sebastian waits, and Cormac waves the test at him. Sebastian smiles. “Well done, you,” he says to Cormac.
I roll my eyes again. “Again, it’s the McCarthy virile sperm we applaud.”
Sebastian smiles at me, gathering his things. “Congratulations, Aileen. I suspected this might be the case, so if the nausea’s still bad, I’ve got some medication for you.”
I can barely stand through the waves that assault me, so I gratefully take the medication and swallow it down with some water.
“Anything that sounds good for breakfast, get it for her,” Sebastian instructs Cormac. Cormac nods, wide-eyed and eager. “She can take the medicine regularly to help quell her nausea, but there are a few remedies I can send up as well.”
“Thank you.”
Sebastian takes his leave.
“Really, all that sounds good is some toast with marmalade.” My mouth waters at the very thought. It’s odd, since I’ve never liked the sweet yet bitter preserves.
“Anything else?” Cormac asks.
“Hot tea, please.”
“Of course.”
He orders my food, then takes a call from Keenan. He walks to the other room while we wait for breakfast, and I’m left with my own thoughts. Though I’m trying to be brave, this unnerves me.
I’m carrying the baby of a man who’s virtually a stranger.
I don’t know our history. I don’t know his. Hell, I hardly know mine, though it comes back in bits and pieces. And now, this makes things so much more permanent than the mere band on my finger did.
I’m carrying the man’s child.
I’m raising a child with this man.
With a man I hardly know.
I close my eyes and wait for the medication to kick in, and I think I may even drift off to sleep. I startle awake when I hear the door open, and a minute later Maeve comes in, carrying a large silver tray. She’s already dressed for the day in a soft white sweater and slacks, her makeup perfect and her hair fixed just right. I feel frumpy and frazzled next to her.
“Cormac called me,” she beams. “Congratulations!”