Chapter 10
Nicole
“No, really.” I turn in Austin’s hold and narrow my eyes at him. I’m suspicious because normally he’d be freaking out and talking about rushing me to the hospital. He tends to overreact when it comes to me. Last week, I stubbed my toe on set and made a small noise of distress. He thought it might be broken and yelled for someone to call an ambulance…for a stubbed toe. “What could I possibly have caught that would make you totally fine with me being sick?”
His dark eyes gleam with masculine satisfaction as he answers, “My baby.”
Austin’s baby? “Oh my gosh! I might be pregnant!”
“Yup.” He flashes me a smug grin. “It looks like all that cum I’ve filled you up with has finally done its job.”
“Finally? There’s no finally about it. We’ve only known each other for barely more than a month.” I think back over the weeks we’ve spent together and realize there’s important stuff I haven’t needed to add to the shopping list in all that time. “Umm, I should’ve gotten my period like two weeks ago. I can’t believe I didn’t notice until now.”
He lifts me off my feet and carries me over to the couch. After he gets me settled on one end, he takes the other and sets my feet in his lap. Pulling my shoes off, he starts to rub my soles. I let out a soft moan, and he presses a little harder. “This right here is why you didn’t notice.”
“Hmm?” I’m not sure what he means, but the stroking of his fingers feels too good for me to be able to form actual words—even though I’m freaking out about my possible pregnancy. Being a teenage mom isn’t something I ever expected to happen to me. But then Austin came barreling into my life and everything changed.
“When we get our hands on each other, we lose our minds.”
It’s hard to argue when he’s right. I rest my hand over my belly, and he covers it with his. “And that’s why I might be pregnant so soon in our relationship.”
He presses a kiss to my ankle before lowering my feet to the ground and pulling me onto his lap. “Don’t be scared, baby. I’ll be with you every step of the way; from middle of the night pregnancy cravings to diaper changes.”
I’m sure he will be since he barely ever lets me out of his sight. I don’t expect this to change just because I’m pregnant—I mentally groan. I can only imagine how much more protective of me and our baby he’s going to get. However, as annoying as it should be, it makes me feel safe and loved. “Since this was your idea, I think you should get all the poopy diapers,” I tease.
“Done,” he agrees.
His lack of hesitation soothes my nerves. I tilt my head back and suggest, “Maybe I should take a test to confirm I’m actually pregnant before we start dividing up parenting duties?”
“Probably,” he chuckles, lifting me up as he stands. He carries me over to the bathroom and sets me on my feet. When he yanks open one of the drawers and pulls out a pregnancy test, I gasp in surprise.
“What the heck?”
He smiles sheepishly as he rips open the box and hands it to me. “I stocked up on these so we’d have them no matter where we were when the time came to take one,” he explains. “Here, the trailer, each of the bathrooms at home, even the private bathroom at Tyson’s office.”
“That’s a lot of pregnancy tests.”
He shrugs his broad shoulders. “What can I say? I wanted to be prepared.” Gesturing at the stick in my hand, he grins. “And it’s a good thing too because now we don’t have to wait. All you need to do is pee on that, and we’ll have confirmation that you’re pregnant.”
His utter certainty is infectious, and I find myself shooing a grumbling Austin out of the bathroom so I can do my business. As soon as the toilet flushes, he pushes the door open to join me again. He waits semi-patiently while I wash my hands before claiming my mouth in a fervent kiss that lasts the few minutes needed before the results are available.
When he lifts his head, I’m in a passionate fog and can’t think clearly. He doesn’t seem to have the same problem because he glances at the test right away and lets out a triumphant whoop. “Pregnant!”
His grin is huge as he shows me the single word on the display. “Pregnant,” I echo softly, my eyes filling with tears.
“Those better be happy tears,” he grouches as he drops the test back on the counter and hugs me.
“They are,” I sniffle into his shirt.
“Tears? My client better not be crying,” a feminine voice calls out from inside the trailer.