Pepped Up & Wilder (Pepper Jones Book 6)

by Ali Dean

  Ray smiled. “Calm down. Don’t get dramatic on me,” he said. “You’ve now got ten months to prepare for the Olympic Trials in the marathon. That’s plenty of time to shock your body a few more times so it won’t be traumatized when the time comes.” He was smiling, even joking a little, but the idea didn’t sit well with me. It couldn’t be sustainable to keep pushing her body to this point, could it?

  Chapter Twelve

  Pepper

  I expected to be more embarrassed about ending up in the medical tent, but the excitement over hitting such a fast time overshadows anything else. Mostly. Back in Brockton two days later, I’m still a little confused about why it happened and how to fix it. Last time I had a weird fainting spell while running it was because I put too much pressure on myself. I didn’t feel that way at all for this race, didn’t even treat it like a race. The other time was because someone drugged me, which couldn’t have happened in this case because there’s no way I would’ve run so well.

  Ray and Jace both suggest getting blood tests and a general health check-up to make sure I don’t have any deficiencies. I did miss my period a couple of weeks ago, but that’s happened before when I increase my mileage. It’s pretty common, and while I know it’s not healthy to continue missing periods, I’m pretty sure I’m fueling properly and figure there’s not much else I could do. Maybe it would help to see a nutritionist, start drinking weird protein shakes like Jace.

  I’m at the primary care office in Brockton, waiting for the doctor to come in for a brief chat. I’ve peed in a cup and had my blood drawn, which almost made me pass out again with how much they took, but I won’t get my results from the blood test for a few more days. At the urging of the medics I took the day after the race completely off from training, my first full day off in years without even cross training. It was seriously weird to sit around all day with Jace and snuggle, watching movies and doing puzzles. I definitely soaked it in but now I’m restless as hell and can’t wait to get out of here to go on a run with Lexi and Sienna. My legs feel airy and itchy, like they might shoot out and kick someone at any moment. They’re not used to rest and the lack of weighty fatigue is unnerving.

  If one day of rest does this, imagine how well I’ll race at the Chicago half after resting for a week or two! I can’t decide if I just had a professional breakthrough at my last two races or if the real one is just around the corner.

  “Mrs. Wilder.” Dr. Burch greets me with a friendly smile and a handshake before pulling up her rolling stool and sitting down on it. She’s been my doctor for almost two years now, since I graduated from CU.

  Her smile wavers for a minute and I’m a little confused as to why she would look nervous. “Congratulations. You’re pregnant.”

  I stay frozen, sitting on my hands, but my swinging legs stop. Blood rushes in my head and I blink several times. “What did you say?”

  “Your urine sample confirmed that you’re pregnant, Mrs. Wilder. I’m guessing by the notes here that this isn’t what you were expecting?” Her eyes dart to the little mini computer thingy in her lap.

  “Um. I think you must be mistaken. That’s not possible. I’m on the pill. I don’t even get my period consistently. I just qualified for the Olympic Trials two days ago in the half marathon. There’s just no way.” It would be really easy for them to get the wrong pee sample, actually. We put the cup in a little box after peeing. I bet they accidentally switched mine with the lady who was called in right before me from the waiting room.

  “Well, the chances of becoming pregnant on the pill are less than one percent but it’s not impossible. And it’s possible even without regular periods. How long have they been irregular?”

  Blood rushes in my head again and my chest squeezes. This can’t be right. “I missed my last one. Before that they’d been regular for almost a year. But I’ve lost it before when I increase my mileage. I really can’t be pregnant. Can you do an ultrasound or something to check?” I cringe at the desperation in my voice and the pity in her smile.

  “I was going to suggest just that. We can see how far along you are.”

  I squeeze my eyes shut at her refusal to acknowledge the possibility that this is a mistake, but follow her orders to lie back. My heart rate picks up for an entirely different reason when she starts gooping gel onto what looks like a giant dildo instead of onto my stomach.

  “Early on we use a transvaginal ultrasound. It will be slightly uncomfortable at first but no worse than a pap smear.”

  She arranges my feet on the awful little metal things that look like torture devices before easing the most awkward medical tool ever inside of me. I mean really, in this day and age you’d think they’d have something better. I’m distracting myself from what’s about to happen, what’s really going on, by trying to stir up some outrage toward the medical device companies that must be run by men, when I hear a steady thudding noise. It’s faint over the whooshing sound on the little ultrasound screen, but it’s unmistakable.

  I glance over at it, unable to tell what the fuzzy black and white lines mean, when Dr. Burch points to a tiny mark. “It’s no mistake, Pepper,” she says with conviction. “That’s the baby’s heartbeat we’re listening to. And that’s the baby.”

  The baby. Baby?

  My mind reels as it struggles through layers of disbelief. But the heartbeat is still pounding on the machine, and the little blob on the screen is bobbing to the beat. There is no mistake. This is real.

  I’m having a baby.

  Two days ago my body went into some kind of physical shock, now I’m in a mental shock. I can’t remember anything else the doctor told me after the ultrasound except for the due date. November twentieth. Three months before the Olympic marathon trials.

  I should be going straight to Jace, who’s working out with Wes at his place, but without even realizing it, I’ve driven to the water hole we used to swim at. My limbs are on autopilot as I park Gran’s old car and get out, walking down the little path leading to the river. We used to jump off the rocks into the freezing water and then warm up on the rocks. No one else is around late morning on a cool spring day and I lean against a tree, taking deep breaths. I need to be alone to process this. What it means.

  I’m still grappling with the reality that we’re in the less than point three percent who get pregnant on birth control. I thought they only said that to avoid lawsuits. I didn’t know it could actually happen. Especially when I take the pills regularly. Especially when I’m training so hard and already putting my body through so much. I can’t believe I ran like I did the other day. How was that possible? My mind keeps wanting to reach the conclusion that it’s not possible, that it isn’t real. I imagined everything. But as I stand here alone with only the sounds of the rustling leaves, I already know it’s real. Because I don’t feel totally alone.

  I shake my head at the thought and find my hands are resting on my stomach. There’s a little human hanging out with me. A little Wilder baby.

  “Come on,” I whisper. “Let’s go tell your dad about you.”

  An unexpected wave of nerves hits as I drive to Wes’s house. First denial, then shock, confusion, followed by acceptance, and now I’m nervous to tell my husband? Maybe there’s some truth about the whole hormonal emotions thing because I can barely keep up with myself.

  How will Jace react? What if he’s angry? I shouldn’t have been running so intensely. It could have hurt the baby. Less than an hour after discovering I’m going to be a mom and my mindset has already shifted so drastically.

  I park in Wes and Zoe’s driveway and as I get out of the car, a smile takes over my face. And cue the next emotional onslaught. Joy. Excitement. I start to jog into the house but stop myself. I should’ve asked the doctor about that. I see pregnant women running all the time but after what happened on Sunday, maybe I shouldn’t.

  Instead, I skip inside and downstairs to the gym, where the guys are lifting weights and loud music is practically shaking the house down. Jac
e spots me in the mirror and raises his eyebrows in question before getting off the bench to walk toward me. He knows I was meant to run after the appointment, and I can see concern in his gaze when he reaches me. I gesture to the hallway where we can be alone and he follows me back up the stairs.

  When I sit down on the couch beside him and take his hands in mine, color drains from his face. “Pep, what is it?”

  “I’m pregnant.”

  The expression on his face must mirror the one I had when I learned the news because he just continues to stare at me like he didn’t hear me correctly.

  “You’re…” He searches my face before his eyes drop to my flat stomach and scan my body. “We’re having a baby?” he whispers in reverence.

  I don’t know what I expected but it wasn’t Jace Wilder’s eyes filling with tears. My husband doesn’t cry. He shows emotion to me now, but he doesn’t spontaneously break into tears.

  He blinks them away, still whispering when he leans down and presses the palm of his hand to my belly. “Holy shit, Pep.”

  He grins up at me. “Did I really do that? Even with you on birth control?”

  I giggle. “We did it. Of course you would assume it was all you.”

  “Tell me everything. How’d they find out? How far along are you? What did the doctor say about you fainting on Sunday? Did that hurt the baby?” Jace leans down and lifts my shirt up like he can see the baby through my belly button. “Are you going to be okay?” I can’t tell if that last question is directed at me or the baby.

  “Everything’s good. I think. Honestly I barely heard anything she said once I saw the baby on the ultrasound.”

  “You did an ultrasound already?” Jace’s eyes widen. “Wait. Can we go back and do another one? Shit. I should have gone with you today.”

  “Jace, it’s fine. We don’t make a habit of going to each other’s doctor’s appointments together. That would be weird. We thought I was low on iron, not pregnant.”

  If Jace was protective before, I’m going to have to prepare for it to go up about a hundred levels. At the moment, it’s adorable, but I can see already the lack of control over the situation will be a struggle for him.

  I tell him everything I know, which mostly consists of the due date and the fact that the baby has a beating heart. And also that Dr. Burch didn’t seem too concerned about the stress I put the baby under on Sunday, given everything looked good and normal. Obviously, I’ll have to make another appointment soon to talk about what kind of exercise I can do. And I need to call my agent, and Ray. First I have to tell Gran, and Zoe and Wes, and Jim, and…

  I let out a deep breath and Jace pulls me close. He brushes his lips against mine. “I know this is a little weird, but I want you so bad right now it’s painful.”

  At his words, heat flares low in my belly. My hand drifts between us to confirm what he’s said and Jace lets out a harsh breath. “I seriously want to go back to the doctor right now,” he confesses, his voice strained, “to check about everything we can and can’t do. Part of me wants to carry you everywhere to keep you safe but my dick just wants to show off. It’s so fucking proud of itself.”

  I burst into laughter and Jace smirks at me with one eyebrow raised. “Less than point three percent, huh?”

  “What’s less than point three percent?” Wes asks, wiping a towel over his forehead as he comes up the basement stairs.

  Jace and I glance at each other. Do we tell him now? We still haven’t told Gran or Jim. And aren’t you supposed to wait until the second trimester or something? I thought I’d heard that. But I can’t lie to Wes.

  Jace makes the decision for me when he announces, “We’re having a baby.” There’s so much pride in his voice, and I let him have the ego boost for the moment. Not that he needs it.

  Wes’s eyes widen and he starts to smile before frowning. “Are you fucking with me right now?” he asks, doubt filling the question.

  “Nope. November twentieth due date,” I confirm, noting the pride in my own voice. Man, we’re pathetic. It’s not like we did anything special other couples don’t do, but I’ve never been prouder of anything else. It’s kind of a ridiculous phenomenon actually.

  “But you just qualified for the Olympic Trials in the half marathon two days ago,” Wes states, still in denial mode. I can relate.

  I just shrug, a grin plastered to my face.

  When it sinks in that we’re not messing with him, Wes’s smile takes over. “I’m gonna be an uncle.”

  He tries to tackle us in hugs but he’s dripping sweat so I let him pat my head instead.

  Seems our little family is growing.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Pepper

  I’m riding a new kind of high as I revel in Jace’s total awestruck reaction, our shared joy in creating this life together. We’re intoxicated with amazement and wonder, unable to stop sharing looks, touches, smiles, kisses. It lasts through sharing the news with Gran, then Jim, and slowly our friends. I’d blown off Lexi and Sienna earlier for a run and even though the news is still fresh, it’s impossible to keep it to myself. The excitement is practically bursting out of me and no negative emotions can pop this bubble. Worry, doubt, disappointment at how this will change everything for my running career, it’s all irrelevant to me in this moment.

  The realities don’t hit me until Ray calls the next morning. I don’t want to answer. I’m not ready to tell him. I’m not ready to handle his reaction, the reaction of my sponsors, or discuss it with my agent Finn. All those details seem so cumbersome and irrelevant right now.

  Gran and Jace hover over me while I eat my breakfast. Neither comments when I ignore Ray’s call.

  “Did Dr. Burch say anything about morning sickness?” Jace asks, scooting his chair closer to me and pushing a glass of juice in my direction. “Isn’t it normal to be sick in the mornings at seven weeks along?”

  I put down the toast I was about to bite into. “I didn’t think to ask that. Let’s call over there. We should make another appointment. I have a million questions now that I’m not in shock.”

  “She ain’t gonna be able to tell ya much, kids. Nothing and everything about bein’ pregnant is normal,” Gran says from her seat on the other side of the table, two hands grasping her coffee mug.

  Jace and I stare at her and she chuckles at our confusion. “If you were sick every morning, you’d be worryin’ you weren’t normal. You’re not sick and now you’re still frettin’. Just relax.” She waves a hand before taking a sip of coffee. “Obviously you’re supposed to have this baby if it came so easy. What should we name him?”

  “Him?” Jace straightens beside me, ears perked up.

  Gran shrugs. “I don’t want to call the baby an ‘it’ and I’m bettin’ on a boy if I have to pick.”

  “Let’s give it – I mean, the baby – a gender-neutral name while I’m pregnant.”

  “Let’s call him Baby Wilder,” Jace suggests.

  “Or her,” I remind them both.

  Jace mutters. “A girl? A baby girl? Shit.”

  I study Jace, trying to picture a girl version of him.

  Another ringing phone slices through the air. Can’t we get a moment of peace around here? This time, it’s Frankie calling for Jace. Of course, Jace has been beaming with more pride than I’ve ever seen emanating from him since I shared the news.

  Jace stands up to take the call and immediately informs Frankie he’s going to be a dad.

  No winning game from any sport, not even our own wedding, have I ever seen him look so damn full of life. Like he rules the world. Man, he’s come so far. I can’t imagine the old Jace reacting like this, embracing this role like he owns it. Like he’d been born to be a dad. To father my children.

  Gran’s grinning one of her loony toothy smiles when she sees the dreamy look in my eyes. Yeah, they’re filled with tears. “Now that, that’s definitely normal pregnancy hormones. Prepare yourself for an emotional rollercoaster, baby girl.”

 
; I’m still trying to finish eating breakfast when my phone rings again. This time it’s Finn, my agent. He congratulated me by text after the race and emailed me to let me know he’d be calling about some new sponsorship opportunities arising from the podium finish and qualifying time.

  I can’t ignore Finn’s call like I can Ray’s, and that tells me a lot right there. Of course, Finn knows about me fainting after the race on Sunday, and his first question is how I’m feeling.

  “I feel great,” I tell him truthfully.

  “Still waiting to see if the blood work comes up with anything? What’d the doctor have to say?”

  I hesitate only a moment before giving him the news. “I’m pregnant. Seven weeks.”

  Silence. I know that it might have been wiser to wait to share this, to come up with a plan. But unlike with Ray, or Jace with his agent, I trust Finn. I want to able to lean on someone in my professional circle, on my team, who can help me come up with a strategy on how to address this with my sponsors and fans, the race directors expecting me to show at their races, all that stuff.

  “Congratulations, Pepper.” I know I’ve done the right thing when that’s his initial response, even if it’s coated in a bit of disbelief. “I just can’t believe you ran a 1:11 half seven weeks pregnant. That’s really something.”

  “Me neither,” I admit.

  “This gives us a really exciting direction to go in. Pregnancy and motherhood in the running community is a hot area, and I’m sure we can get sponsors lining up to get you in their maternity running gear and trying their strollers, all that fun stuff.” Finn pauses to chuckle. “Sorry, don’t want to overwhelm you but my head is already spinning with the new direction we’ll be headed. When I called I expected to talk about your race plans now that you’ve got the qualifying time under your belt. I didn’t think we’d be reevaluating how we market you. But I’m happy for you, Pepper.”