Knocked Up

by Stacey Lynn

  “No.” She sniffs and looks at the door to the apartment, avoiding me. “I can’t take that risk with you. Not again.”

  “You have to,” I say. “You have to because you love me. And when you love someone, you forgive them, and I want that from you, Cara. I want your love and your forgiveness and I’m so damn sorry I hurt you. I had my head twisted with shit Stella said, I was pissed I hadn’t heard from you, so damn worried about what your parents were saying to you and not having any way to protect you from them, and then I saw you with that drink at the bar, your hands on another man, and I just…I just snapped. It was too much, all at once, me feeling worthless and powerless, and I handled it poorly. I was a complete shit. I know it. But, honey, I’m so sorry, so damn sorry I hurt you like that. And I swear to you, you let me try to make this right, you will never regret it. That I swear to you.”

  By the time I’m done, her eyes have lost their fury, replaced with something else, something more blank.

  Something hopeless. “Stella said something to you.”

  “Yeah, but—”

  “She hates me.”

  “She doesn’t.” She opens her mouth and I know it’s to argue, because Stella also told me today about the shit she said to Cara. “She doesn’t hate you, she was mad at me. She was jealous.”

  “Jealous?” She sounds incredulous. “Of me?”

  “No. Yes.” I take a breath. This conversation is getting away from me. I take a chance and I unclasp my hands, reach out and settle one on her knee. She jumps but doesn’t move it away, so I hold her firmly. “Stella’s like my sister, I’ve told you that. Irvin was all she and I had, and she’s married now, has two kids, but it’s always been us, just me and Stella in a different way. It’s not that she hates you, it’s that she wanted to protect me…and she was hurt I didn’t bring you around her. She started thinking you were too good for her, and I was ignoring her and not seeing her kids, and she twisted shit in her head, then put it in yours, and really, fucked it up in my head. She feels like shit for it.”

  “She should.”

  Damn it. Terror the size of a castle builds inside of me. I don’t know how to fix this if I can’t get her to give me anything.

  Several minutes have passed and she hasn’t looked at me. All I can see is her chest rising and falling with every measured breath she takes.

  “Graham told me about the tattoo, honey.” She flinches, either at the reminder or the endearment, but it’s something so I keep pushing. “I’m honored, Cara. I’m so damn honored I was the one chosen to put Jimmy’s words on Graham’s skin. He came in today, told me all about it, why you were out with him and not your parents, and I gotta say, I thought your parents were dicks before, but they’re completely off the charts with their maneuvering last night, but Graham is cool. He and I are cool. I’m fucking thrilled I was the one to do his tattoo and I’m glad you saw it. I’m glad you love it.”

  Tears spill down her cheeks and she wipes them away when all I want to do is take them from her, and then ensure I never give her a reason to cry again.

  “I’m honored you’re falling in love with me, Cara. I’m sorry I took that and fucked it up, but give me a chance. Please.”

  She shakes her head. I can feel my chance slipping from my fingers.

  “I can’t, Braxton. I’ve got someone else to think about right now, someone more important than either me or you, and last night is a vivid reminder we hardly know each other.”

  Fuck that.

  “I know I love you.”

  She jumps, blinks, and looks at me. “What?” Confusion wrinkles her brow and I all but laugh. “You can’t.”

  “I can. I do. I always will. I fell in love with you the first night we were together, Cara. For months I was unable to get you out of my head, wanting to get your number and call you. But then I kept remembering how you ran from me and were embarrassed that you slept with some guy like me. You’re sorry you did that, and I get it, as much as it hurt, and I’m not comparing the two. I’m not, I swear it. But when Stella came to me with all her bullshit and it became my bullshit, that’s what I was thinking. Thinking you were someday going to run off on me again and then when I saw you with Graham, that’s all I could think of…that you’d done it, you found someone your family would approve of, that you’d finally get their approval and your happy family, and I’d just be the guy whose rubber broke inside you one night.”

  “Braxton—”

  “I know it’s stupid.” I take her hand and squeeze it. “I just want you to know where my head was, but that doesn’t change that I love you. I do love you. Falling in love with you was so damn easy for me I didn’t even realize it was happening.”

  “You’re such an idiot,” she says, and she shoves off the couch yanking her hand from mine.

  Not exactly the reaction I was hoping to hear.

  “What?”

  “You!” She spins at me, pointing a circle in my direction. “You’re an idiot! You’re the dumbest man in the world if you think that I would run off with some guy just to make my parents happy. Haven’t I proven to you that I don’t care what they say anymore? Don’t you remember me telling you if they were rude to me I’d leave and come tell you? I went to that dinner last night fully intent on walking away from them forever, because I was so certain of us that they no longer matter. And then…”

  She trails off, shaking her head. Her hands go to her hips and she laughs. “God. We’re a disaster.”

  “We’re not.” I push off the couch and I walk to her, covering her hands with mine on her hips, and I hold her close, firmly too so she can’t run. “We’re not a disaster, Cara. We’re a work in progress.”

  She laughs softly and her forehead collapses onto my chest.

  Best fucking feeling in the entire world, having her leaning into me and not shoving me away.

  “I’m sorry,” I whisper, pressing my lips to her head. “I’m so damn sorry about last night. But I do love you. I’m in love with you. I want you and I want us to start a family and I know we haven’t been together long, but it doesn’t make it wrong either.”

  She shakes her head against my chest and I keep talking. “Forgive me. Or at least try to. Come home with me tonight and let me just hold you because last night without you by my side fucking sucked. We’ll get past this. All couples fight and argue, and I guarantee you we’ll do it again, and I’ll be an idiot again and probably an asshole at least a dozen times, but we can get past them too.”

  “You sound so sure.”

  She might not sound sure, but she pulls her hands from beneath mine and slides them to my back.

  God. Her hands on me have never felt so damn good and my shoulders relax for the first time all day.

  “I’m sure because I love you, and you love me.”

  “I don’t.”

  Bullshit. Instead of calling her on it, I yank my phone out of my back pocket, pull up the photos and find the one where she was gazing up at Graham…like she loved him.

  Except now I know that’s about the time Graham said she admitted to him she loved me.

  I hold the phone down in her line of sight so she can see it.

  Now that I know the context, I love the damn photo.

  “You look at me like this, and I know from Graham and Stella that right around this time last night, when you were looking up at Graham all doe-eyed and stoned, lips soft and happy, that you were learning about that tattoo and you were telling him you loved me. Proof is all over your face, honey, and it’s beautiful.”

  She takes the phone in her hand and pulls it close.

  Seconds pass where all I hear is my heartbeat thumping against my chest.

  She shakes her head and I grit my teeth together. Arguing her into admitting she loves me might not be the best idea. Handing
me my phone back, she drops her hand back to my hip. I slide the phone into my pocket and press my finger to her chin, tilting her head up so I can look her in the eyes.

  “I love you, Cara. I love you and I love our baby and I want to be a family. Please, come back home with me.”

  She blinks, pretty, beautiful blue eyes shimmering with something much more hopeful than the stormy waters earlier. “Okay. I’ll come back home with you.”

  My entire chest collapses with relief and I cup her cheeks, holding her firmly in the palm of my hands. “Do you love me?”

  “I do. Please don’t make me regret it.”

  “Never.” I take her mouth in mine, sealing my promise with a kiss, and when we’re done, I take my family home where they belong.

  Chapter 30

  Cara

  “Stop pacing, honey, you’ll wear yourself out.”

  I shoot a glare at Braxton and spin on my heels, pacing another lap in the doctor’s incredibly tiny waiting room. There’s no way I can wear myself out when there’s only ten feet of room.

  “I’m nervous.” We’re in the waiting room at the radiologist’s office, moments away from our ultrasound. We’re finding out if we finally call Squirt a boy or a girl, and I’m so excited I can’t stand myself.

  “I know. Come here.” Like always when Braxton gets bossy, I listen, mostly because I’m learning every day he only has my best interests at heart. When I get close to him, he grabs my hand and pulls me onto his lap.

  I fall with an oomph of surprise and look back to the nurse at the reception desk. “You can’t have me on your lap in the waiting room.”

  He grins. It’s a grin that makes me warm all over. “Ah, but I can have you whenever and wherever I want.”

  Other parts of me not only get warm, but wet. “Don’t turn me on in the doctor’s office, Braxton Henley.”

  “Cara Thompson?”

  Both of us turn our heads in the direction of the feminine voice. A nurse is standing at the door, blond hair pulled up into a topknot, teal blue scrubs on and a clipboard in her hand.

  “I think that’s our cue,” Braxton says, his hand on my back, guiding me to my feet.

  “Yeah.”

  “Let’s go see what we made, shall we?” He grins down at me. I pick my purse up off the chair and look at him over my shoulder.

  “Boy,” I guess, because all the midwives’ tales I’ve read online have told me that’s what our little squirt is.

  “Healthy,” Braxton counters. He always says it and now, I can’t believe I ever accused him of only loving our child if it was a boy.

  He absolutely, one hundred percent, doesn’t care either way. Even when I’ve tried to prod him into choosing a gender he just shakes his head, kisses me and then my belly, and says, “As long as it’s healthy.”

  * * *

  —

  “Phil’s diner?” I ask when Braxton pulls up to the train car diner he took me to after the first midwife’s appointment.

  “It’s where we began, sort of,” Braxton says and grins at me. “And it’s a great place to celebrate.”

  It’s not exactly where I’d choose to celebrate the fact we’re having a boy. I was right!

  Holy cow, we’re having a boy!

  I can’t contain myself. I throw my face into my hands in the front seat of his car and tears erupt like a volcano.

  “What the hell?” he asks.

  “I’m just so damn happy!” I grin at him with eyes filled with tears and for a split second, Braxton looks completely stunned.

  Then he does what he always does when I’m a complete, massive wreck.

  He yanks me into his arms and he kisses me.

  “You okay now?” he asks when he pulls back. His eyes are glimmering with moisture and happiness.

  “No. I’m a mess.”

  “You’re a beautiful mess. Come on, I have something planned for you.”

  A surprise at Phil’s diner? Do I get my own roller skates? I laugh at the idea and climb out of the car, Braxton meeting me and closing the door for me.

  I’m ushered into the diner and as soon as we step inside, the entire diner erupts with cheers so loud I jump back into him.

  “Congratulations!”

  I can’t believe this. I’m swept into a euphoria as I scan the room. Dan and Jenna. Stella and her husband, Robbie, who’s hilarious and bossier than Braxton. Bonnie and Asher are in front of them, and Robbie has a hand curled around each of their shoulders, holding his hellions in place.

  We’ve seen them several times since our argument a few weeks ago. The first couple of times were awkward, but then things settled. It might take me a while to fully trust Stella and call her a friend, but her kids who are absolutely crazy and always hyper and shouting go a long way into smoothing the rough areas when it comes to us.

  Then there’s Luca.

  And Graham.

  Javier from MadInk is here.

  Everyone is here.

  “Oh my gosh!” I throw my hands to my mouth and then turn, and throw my arms around Braxton. “You planned this?”

  “Wanted everyone we love to celebrate with us. Should we tell them?”

  I grin at him. I probably look insane. “Can I?”

  “Go for it, baby.”

  I spin on my feet and throw my hands in the air, shouting, “We’re having a boy!”

  Shouts go up, more shouts and cheers and clapping hands and I’m rushing into the melee of Jenna’s arms around me, then Graham’s and Luca’s, when I’m suddenly yanked back by Braxton’s hand grabbing mine and pulling me back to him.

  “What the heck?” I ask, as he’s tugging me.

  He doesn’t stop until I’m standing in front of everyone again. “What are you doing?”

  “That was sweet, baby, but that’s not what we’re celebrating.”

  Huh? “What?”

  “They can be happy for us that we’re having a boy,” he says, and before I can ask what he’s talking about, he drops to a knee.

  He’s dropping to a knee.

  Oh my God. Braxton is on a knee in front of me.

  Pulling out a box.

  A black box.

  Behind me, I vaguely recognize Jenna’s squeal of delight.

  “Oh my God,” I whisper, my hands already shaking. “Shut up.”

  “Nope.” He grins at me and takes my hand. His other hand has the box.

  He flips it open.

  “Cara Thompson, in front of everyone who loves us, who’s happy for us, I want to promise all of them, and you, that if you agree to be my wife and marry me and give me the family better than anything I’d ever dreamed of having, I will make sure that all of your dreams come true, every day, for the rest of your life, because you’ve already given me mine.”

  “Braxton—” My voice is wobbly. Shaky. How am I even speaking? My knees feel like jelly and I might fall over.

  “Marry me, Cara. Be my wife.”

  “Yes!” It rushes out of me with such force I surprise myself and I laugh, and he laughs. And the crowd around us cheers.

  But I’m still staring down at him, more tears running down my face as he takes the ring out of the box. A gorgeous sparkling diamond that’s round and bright and I don’t even care what it is just that it’s on my finger and I’m getting married.

  “I love you,” he says, kissing my hand as he stands. “I love everything about you.”

  I throw my arms around him again, my belly preventing me from jumping into his arms like I desperately want to.

  I kiss him until I can’t kiss him anymore as all of our friends—our family—cheer and clap and Graham yells for us to get a room.

  Then I twirl, tossing my hands into the air agai
n, and shout, “I’m getting married!”

  Epilogue

  Braxton

  My fiancée is beautiful. She’s even more beautiful on her hands and knees, her hips wide, plump ass shaking as I thrust into her. It’s one of the few positions where I can make love to her now that her due date is so close, and as much as I love it, I can’t wait until I can kiss her while I’m making love to her.

  “Braxton,” she whines, and I know she’s close. Her already tight walls feel incredible against my dick.

  I slide my hand from her hip to her center, pressing against her clit while I speed up my thrusts. “Get there,” I demand of her, because I’m so close.

  Every time I sink inside Cara I could blow like a rocket, and the more she grows with our baby, mostly all in her breasts and stomach, the fiercer that need is.

  There is nothing more insanely beautiful than watching the woman you love grow with your child inside of her.

  “Please. Yes.” She pushes back against me, her legs and hands already shaking, and it’s that sign that tells me she’s almost there. She always goes wild right before she releases.

  “Yes,” I groan, slamming into her at the same time my fingers manipulate her at the front.

  And it doesn’t take much, because she throws her head back, her walls clamp around my dick, and I push inside her as deep as I can go, but not nearly deep enough because I’ll never be deep enough inside of Cara to be satisfied.

  We tumble over the edge of our release together, and she collapses to her elbows. I stay inside of her until I can breathe at a reasonable pace, running my hand up and down her back.

  “How are you feeling?”

  “Like Pam’s idea of a lot of sex to get this baby coming was the best idea she’s ever had.”

  We had her last regular appointment this morning where Pam gave us that idea, a cheeky grin on her face. As soon as we got back to the apartment, Cara attacked, all grouchy and demanding I follow her midwife’s orders to get this baby boy out of her immediately. I chuckle against her shoulder, bending over her to kiss her. She’s three days from her due date, her stomach as big as a watermelon, and she’s cranky.