“Those are mine,” Laramie informs me.
My shoulders fall. Of course, I’m happy for my sister, but I really, really wanted them to be McKenna’s. “Well?” I ask her.
She holds up a stick. “Pregnant.” She smiles.
“No shit?”
“Yep. You’re going to be an uncle.”
It’s not daddy, but I’ll take it. “Congrats, Lara.” I move to give her a hug, then turn back to McKenna. “You okay?”
“Yes.” She nods and gives me a watery smile. I don’t quite believe her, but she’ll tell me in her own time. Maybe she wishes it was us too? Lucky for her, we’re married, and we can start working on that tonight. Hell, we can start now. I have no issue with kicking my sister out and ravishing my girl for the next several hours. The urge to make love to her, with the knowledge that she’s my wife, is strong.
“What had you rushing up here in a tizzy?” my sister asks. “Did you think I was stealing your girlfriend?” she teases.
“You mean my wife.”
“You haven’t earned that title yet, buddy.” Laramie laughs.
“Actually, I have.” Reaching into my back pocket, I pull out the envelope and hand it to McKenna. “I finished a little early and walked out to get the mail before coming inside. This was in the mailbox.” I stand still, watching McKenna’s every move as she pulls out the paperwork detailing that our marriage license was filed with the state of Nevada.
“Rip?” She looks up at me. “What is this?”
“From what I can tell, we got married while we were in Vegas.”
“Oh, no.” Laramie smacks her hand over her mouth. “I thought that was fake.”
“What?” McKenna and I ask at the same time.
“The wedding. I remember bits and pieces of you two standing before Elvis, but I thought it was just from the pictures we have of you two and him.”
“I asked Colby about it, and he said he couldn’t remember either.”
“What?” McKenna asks again.
I drop to my knees in front of her, where she’s sitting on the edge of the bed, and take her hands in mine. “We’re married, baby.” I smile up at her.
“No. Rip. No. We can’t be married. That’s not how this works.” She stands, stepping around me as she begins to pace the room.
“McKenna?” Laramie tries to get her attention, but she’s in the zone as she paces back and forth across the plush carpet.
“I’ll handle this. I mean, I can’t practice in Nevada. Hell, I can’t even practice in Texas yet, but I’ll handle it. I know Gramps has connections. He can file the petition for dissolution.”
“No.” I stand up and face her, my arms crossed over my chest. “We’ve made love since then, Kenna. That’s not going to work.”
“Fine. A divorce then. I’ll be sure it’s discreet, and it will be quick.”
“No.”
“What now?” she asks, throwing her arms up in the air. She stops pacing and stares at me.
“No. I don’t want you to handle it. No, I don’t want a dissolution. No, I don’t want a divorce.”
“Then what do you want, Rip? We can’t just ignore this. It’s not going to go away.”
“I don’t want to ignore it either. I want you to be my wife.” My eyes hold hers, and that’s the only reason I see it. That’s when I see her prepare for a fight. One I’m more than willing to give her. I’ll fight for us.
“No.”
“Yes.”
“You don’t want this. It was a drunken incident, and I’m going to get us out of this.”
“McKenna, I need you to listen to me. I don’t want out of this. I want you. I want you to be my wife.”
She’s shaking her head before I’m even finished talking. “If this is about the baby, you’re off the hook there too. You don’t owe me anything. I refuse to rope you into this life that you didn’t ask for.”
“Baby?”
Her eyes widen, and I turn to look at Laramie. She gives me a subtle nod. “You’re pregnant?”
“I’ll handle that too,” she assures me.
“Excuse me? What the fuck does that mean?”
“Nothing. I’m not doing that. Just that I can do this on my own.” I turn to look at my sister. “Are you really pregnant?”
“Yes.”
“How long have you known?” I ask, turning my attention back to McKenna. She’s clammed up, tears rolling down her cheeks, her arms tucked around herself.
“I thought I might be, so I came over. I didn’t want to take a test alone. It turns out my suspicion triggered a suspicion for Mac. I convinced her to take one of the many tests that I stopped and bought on my way here.”
I take a step toward McKenna, and she takes a step back, so I stop my movement. “What makes you think I would ever let you do this on your own? That baby is mine.” That’s when it hits me. What if it’s not mine? No, that’s not the kind of person she is. It’s on the tip of my tongue to ask her, but I bite back the words.