My Kind of Love: a Military Romance (Finding Love Book 1)

by Nikki Ash

  “Are you okay?” Lexi asks, her voice unusually serious.

  “No, I need to go.”

  “Go where?” Georgia asks, concerned.

  “Home. I need my mom.” I’m every bit aware I sound like a child when I say this, but I don’t care. I need her now. I need to tell her what I’ve done. What’s to come. I need her to hold me and tell me it’s going to be okay. She had me when she was close to my age, so she’ll understand.

  “I’m not sure you’re okay to drive,” Lexi points out.

  “I’m pregnant, not handicapped.”

  “And in shock,” Georgia says.

  “I’ll be okay.” I throw my clothes into my luggage. I came to visit for the weekend, needing to get away after Ryan had called and asked if I would visit him. I almost said yes, but I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t allow myself to fall for a man whose job involves risking his life. Not again.

  Four hours later I arrive home, and the second I stumble through the door and find my mom, I throw myself into her arms, letting the tears come.

  “Micaela, what’s wrong?” she coos, sitting us on the couch and holding me in her arms.

  “I messed up,” I say through a hiccup. “I’m pregnant.”

  She stills momentarily, but then rocks me in her arms, allowing me to cry without asking any questions. “Everything is going to change,” I say through a sob. “All the plans I made…”

  She pats her lap and I lay my head down on it, curling up into a ball. She runs her fingers through the strands of my hair, calming me down as I cry into her lap. “Shh, it’s okay, sweet girl, everything is going to be okay.”

  When I finally get a hold of myself enough to talk, I sit up and she wipes my tears, giving me a soft smile.

  “I didn’t know you’ve been with anyone,” she says, her voice hurt but not judgmental. My mom and I are close and I usually tell her everything.

  “Only one guy,” I admit. “When I was away…” She nods. “As you know I went to the beach house, and when I got there, Ryan was there.”

  Her eyes widen briefly. “Ryan…”

  “Cruz.” I sniffle. “Dad had given him the key so he could spend some time there before being shipped off to Afghanistan.”

  “I didn’t know that,” she says.

  “I figured as much when I told you where I was and you didn’t mention it.”

  “Which was why you asked me not to tell your dad where you were.” Her lips turn down into a slight frown.

  “I’m sorry. I just needed some time and I knew he would send someone to check on me.”

  “True,” she agrees. “He would’ve.”

  “I didn’t plan on this,” I say dumbly. “I finally moved forward… Made all these plans.”

  “Stop,” Mom says, resting her palm against my cheek. “I didn’t plan for you, but you were without a doubt the best damn surprise of my life.”

  “And mine,” Dad says, walking into the room. He takes one look at me and stalks over. “Why are you crying?”

  His question has the waterworks starting all over again, and I burst into tears. “I’m pregnant.”

  “What?” Dad gasps, sitting next to me. “Who the fuck knocked you up?”

  “Marco,” Mom chides. “Calm down, please.”

  “No,” he booms. “I want to know who the fuck knocked up my daughter, and why he’s not here with her right now.”

  “He can’t be here,” I mutter through my cries.

  “He had no problem knocking you up. He should be man enough to come here with you and support you through this.”

  “He doesn’t know,” I admit.

  This gets Dad’s attention. “Who is it, Micaela?” he asks again.

  “You can’t tell anyone, and you can’t freak out, please,” I beg.

  Dad nods.

  “The baby is Ryan’s,” I murmur.

  “Ryan who?” he asks slowly.

  “Cruz.”

  “When the hell did you hook up with him?” He stands, knocking the coffee table back a couple inches.

  “Two months ago… at the beach house.”

  I can see it when he puts the pieces together. He begins pacing the room, murmuring to himself, while Mom and I stay seated, waiting for him to calm down.

  “I’m going to kill him,” he finally says, stopping in place. “He’s dead.”

  “He’s in Afghanistan,” I choke out, fresh tears welling in my eyes.

  “Fuck.” Dad’s face softens, and he cuts across the room, pulling me into his arms. He holds me for a few minutes, until I get control of my emotions.

  “You have to tell him,” he says. “You can’t keep it from him.” When his eyes meet my mom’s, I know exactly what he’s thinking. When she was pregnant with me, she kept it from him. It’s not something they talk about often, but my mom and I are close and she was honest with me. When I lost Ian and Dad recommended I write him a letter, they told me the story behind my mom’s pregnancy and what my dad went through when he was addicted to drugs.

  “This isn’t the same thing.” I stand, needing some space. “He’s in another country. He could die over there.”

  “Honey,” Mom says sympathetically.

  “How would I even get ahold of him? Email him, send a damn letter. Hey, surprise! I’m pregnant and you’re thousands of miles away, fighting for your life in the desert. Congratulations, Baby Daddy!”

  “Micaela,” my dad starts.

  “No, I’m going to tell him. But not now. Not while he’s over there. It’s not the right time. And I’m asking you not to tell anyone either. If he makes it back alive, I’ll tell him.”

  Ryan

  Present Day

  “I was going to tell you,” Micaela says softly. “But I was…” She sucks in sharp breath. “What if you…?” I fill in the blanks, knowing exactly what’s going through her mind. She was scared. What if I didn’t make it back alive? It doesn’t make up for her keeping me in the dark, but on some level, I get it. She lost her husband, and she was scared of losing me. It’s why I walked away from her that day. I knew we couldn’t be together. I knew she would never be happy being with someone like me, and she deserved to be happy.

  “I’m sorry,” she says, her hand landing on her protruding belly in a protective manner.

  I want to tell her it’s okay, but I’m still pissed and hurt as hell. “If I hadn’t come here, I would’ve never known. I would’ve gone back to Afghanistan none the wiser.”

  “She can’t take back the way she handled it,” Marco says. “But I can tell you it’s been eating her up.”

  “That’s our grandson as well,” my mom says. “We had a right to know. That baby is our family.”

  “I wanted to tell Ryan first,” Micaela says. Her hands tighten around her stomach, and she flinches.

  “You okay?” I ask, my concern for her overpowering the anger.

  “Yeah. I’ve been having contractions all day.”

  “How far apart?” Mom asks. Between her own and my sisters’, she’s been around for five pregnancies.

  “Maybe twenty minutes or so. I still have a couple weeks.”

  A couple weeks. I’m only here for a couple weeks, and then I’m gone again for another four months. During which time she’s going to have her baby. Our baby. And just like that, my anger is back.

  “I could’ve been here,” I say, trying to keep my tone in check. “I could’ve planned my leave for when the baby comes, but now I’m here and I’ll probably be gone when you give birth.”

  “I’m—”

  “Yeah, I heard, you’re sorry.”

  Needing to get away before I say something I might regret, I turn around and walk out the door. My parents call my name, but I ignore them, slamming the door behind me.

  I’m about to get in my truck and take off when I hear Micaela call my name.

  “I can’t do this right now.”

  “Ryan, please,” she begs. “I didn’t mean for this to happen.”

&nbs
p; “What did you think would happen by hiding this from me? You didn’t even try to get ahold of me. No letter or email. I have my phone.” I pull it out of my pocket. “Not a single text or phone call. So, please, Micaela, tell me… what the hell did you mean to happen?”

  Micaela

  Ryan glares at me with a myriad of emotions shining in his eyes: anger, frustration, confusion, but the most prominent is hurt. I hurt him with my actions. I was strictly thinking about my own self-preservation when I made the decision not to tell him about our baby. I was blinded by the distance between us, but now that he’s standing in front of me, I can clearly see how wrong I was.

  With the door open, our parents are standing in the doorway. Everybody is quiet now with their attention on me. I stay focused on Ryan, though, because he’s the person I owe an explanation to. The person who was affected by my choices.

  “I know it was wrong, but I was scared,” I admit, just as my stomach tightens with a contraction. I wrap my arms around myself, closing my eyes momentarily to get through it. When I open my eyes, they’re filled with tears, but I refuse to let them fall. I did this, created this tension, and I need to take responsibility. “I told myself if I didn’t tell you, then you weren’t the dad, so when something happened to you, and you didn’t make it back here, I wouldn’t be losing the father of my baby because you never knew you were.” Somebody gasps from behind me, but nobody says a word.

  “Please don’t fight,” I plead, making eye contact with everyone. “It was my choice, not my parents’. Mine. I didn’t do it to hurt any of you, but I get now how it did. But please don’t blame them. I’m an adult and I chose not to tell anyone.”

  I look back at Ryan. “I know that’s messed up,” I say, taking a deep breath as another contraction hits. “But you know how messed up I am from losing my husband. Every time I thought about telling you, I imagined you getting killed over there, and I couldn’t do it. I’m so sorry. I know it doesn’t help, and I can’t—” My breath is knocked out of me as another contraction overtakes my body, the pain almost unbearable. “Take it back,” I finish.

  “It hasn’t been twenty minutes,” Ryan says.

  “What?”

  “You said your contractions are about twenty minutes apart. It was only maybe five minutes between them in the house and then not even two just now.”

  “Two?” my mom says. “Are you sure?”

  “Every time she has one she holds her stomach,” Ryan says, pointing at me as another contraction hits, this one worse than the others. I squeeze my eyes shut, taking deep breaths in and out until it passes.

  “Micaela, is that true?” Mom asks.

  “I think so,” I breathe. “They’re coming closer now and”—I double over in pain, and Ryan catches me—“they hurt.”

  “We need to get you to the hospital,” Ryan says, wrapping his arms around me and walking me to his truck.

  “We’ll grab your stuff and meet you there,” Mom says.

  The drive to the hospital is filled with uncomfortable silence, and I hate that it’s because of what I’ve done. I spent several days with Ryan, and from the very first minute we spoke, it was always comfortable. So the fact that it’s not now makes me feel sick inside, especially since we’re about to bring a baby into this world. A baby we created.

  Ryan parks and we go in through the main entrance, going straight to the labor and delivery ward. I’ve preregistered, so once I give them my name and show them my license, they bring me back to a room so they can assess me. After I’m changed into a hospital gown, the nurse sets me up with monitors across my belly and chest to monitor the baby’s and my heartbeat, and then the doctor comes in and checks me out.

  “Your water hasn’t broken, but you’re almost completely dilated. Since you’re already thirty-eight weeks, I would like to break your water and push you along rather than send you home only to come back again.”

  I glance over at Ryan, whose face is completely devoid of any emotion. “Whatever you think is best,” I tell the doctor, wishing my mom would hurry up and get here.

  “Would you like any pain medication?” he asks. “Once you hit full dilatation you won’t be able to get any.”

  A huge contraction hits, and I nod emphatically. I read on those moms groups how a lot of women like to go at it all natural, but I am clearly not one of those women.

  After the doctor breaks my water, the nurse cleans the area up, and then an anesthesiologist comes in and gives me an epidural. Ryan stays the entire time, sitting on the couch and staring at me but not saying a word. I can’t tell if he’s mad or concerned, or if he’s trying to give me space.

  Once I’m situated, the nurse lets me know if I have any family who would like to visit, they can come in now. Ryan offers to go get them, and a few minutes later returns with our moms.

  “The men said to let them know once the baby comes,” Kayla says with a playful eye roll. “I just wanted to come in and make sure you’re okay.” She bends over and kisses my forehead.

  “I’m okay. The drugs are already working,” I joke, thankful she’s not too mad at me.

  “I texted Liza,” Mom says, referring to my younger sister. “She’s at a friend’s house but is getting a ride here, and Liam is hanging out with your dad in the waiting room. They both said to tell you they love you.”

  “The doctor said it shouldn’t be too long. He broke my water and I’m almost completely dilated.” I shrug, not really sure what the hell any of that means. I’ve read a million books on what to expect once I have the baby, but I probably should’ve read at least one on labor and delivery.

  “Good evening,” the nurse says cheerily. “How’s everyone?”

  Everyone mumbles an okay or good.

  She checks my blood pressure and then walks over to the machine that’s monitoring the baby’s heartbeat. She smiles, tells me she’ll be back in a little while to check on me, then disappears.

  “You guys don’t have to hang out here,” I say, once she’s gone. “I’m the only one who has to be stuck in this room.” I laugh softly, my eyes feeling heavy from the pain meds.

  “I’m going to go let the guys know everything is okay,” Kayla says. She stops at Ryan and rubs a hand up and down his shoulder before she exits.

  “I think I’ll join her,” Mom says after a beat, pressing a kiss to my forehead. “I’ll be back soon,” she whispers, letting me know she’s giving Ryan and me a moment.

  When she leaves, and it’s only Ryan and me in the room, neither of us says a word for several long minutes. The epidural is working and I can barely feel the contractions.

  Ryan stands and walks over to the monitor. “We’re going to have a baby,” he murmurs, lifting the paper that’s printing out the baby’s heartbeat. Unsure if he’s talking to me or to himself, I don’t respond.

  “How are you feeling?” he asks, walking back over to me.

  “Okay. He’s kicking. Do you want to feel?”

  “He?” He raises a brow.

  “I don’t really know. I decided to wait and find out. But I think it’s a boy.” Every time I would see him on the monitor I would imagine him with Ryan’s and my brown hair and Ryan’s cobalt blue eyes.

  I place Ryan’s hand on my belly. The baby presses one of his limbs against my stomach and Ryan’s eyes light up. “Holy shit,” he whispers. “There’s a baby in there.”

  I choke out a laugh, for the first time feeling a little lighter since he showed up. “There is.”

  “I almost missed all this,” he says, his hand and eyes not leaving my stomach.

  “I’m so sorry, Ry.” His gaze moves to my face, and his eyes soften. “I never meant to hurt you.”

  “I’ve been thinking about you for the last nine months,” he admits. “I thought about writing you a million times, but I didn’t want to put you in that position.” He pauses for a moment. “Did you know… when I called and asked you to visit?”

  “No.” I shake my head to emphasize my
answer. “I mean, I might’ve had a clue, but I was deep in denial. Then I went to visit Georgia and Lexi, and Lexi made me take a test. By the time I got it confirmed by a doctor you were already gone.” It’s becoming hard to keep my eyes open, but I try, needing to make things right with Ryan.

  “I’m so sorry,” I say again, the words coming out in a slur. “If I could do it all over again…”

  Ryan pulls a chair over and sits in it, putting his hand back on my belly. “Shh, it’s okay, I know. Just rest. You have a long night ahead of you. We’ll deal with everything else later.”

  I nod, closing my eyes so I can rest them. Today has been emotionally draining, and when I leave here I’m going to have a baby. I need to get all the sleep I can while I can.

  At some point, I must’ve drifted off, because the next thing I know, I’m hearing voices that weren’t here before I fell asleep. I open my eyes to find Ryan standing by the monitor, along with my mom, the doctor, and nurse.

  “I agree,” the doctor says, looking at Ryan. “The heartbeat has decreased significantly and in a short amount of time.” He glances at the nurse. “Let’s prep her for an emergency cesarean. The baby appears to be in distress.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “What’s going on?” I ask, suddenly nervous and confused.

  “Ryan was watching the heartbeat and noticed it dropped rather quickly,” Mom says, “so he called for the doctor.”

  “Something’s wrong with my baby?” I cover my belly with my hands, even though there’s nothing I can do.

  “No,” the nurse says, moving the IV to a portable unit, “but when the baby shows signs of distress, we want to get him out as soon as possible so he doesn’t remain in distress, and since you aren’t fully dilated yet, it’s best to perform a C-section rather than put him through the stress of a natural delivery.”

  The nurse hands me a medical cap. “Put this on.” She holds a set of scrubs out for Ryan. “Only one person can go in, but you can bring a camera to take pictures.”

  Ryan glances at my mom, torn. “Are you okay with…”