Wicked Choice (The Wicked Horse Vegas #4)

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Wicked Choice (The Wicked Horse Vegas #4) Page 17

by Sawyer Bennett


  My head raises slowly, my eyes even slower, but I finally look at his mom. “Yeah… and you have to understand, I’ve never had feelings like this before. My entire life I’ve only been responsible for me. I’ve only answered to myself. And it’s one thing for me to commit to a child… there’s something biological and primal at work there. But with Bodie? I’m more scared of that than I am of being a mother.”

  Estelle’s eyes grow softly luminescent, and her happiness that there’s someone who cares for her son is obvious. She reaches out and takes my hand. “That I can’t help you with. I’ve only ever loved Geo, so I don’t know much about the game of finding love. Geo was always right there since ninth grade. But I can tell you that when you do find love—true love—it’s about the most wonderful thing in the world.”

  “So they say,” I murmur, appreciating that Estelle is pushing the beauty of love rather than the hard work and sacrifice. God knows I’ve got enough of that facing me with a baby on the way.

  “Just let it be,” Estelle suggests, and it sounds like sage advice because it’s the easiest thing for me right now. “Just wait and see what happens. If it’s meant to be, it will be.”

  Estelle drops my hand and nods at something over my shoulder. I don’t bother looking when she says, “Our menfolk are coming this way, but one last piece of advice, okay?”

  I nod quickly.

  “Keep your heart open, Rachel. I suspect you’re the type of person who has become so accustomed to being alone that you don’t know how to share it. But if you just keep it open, even a little, to let someone else in, I think you’ll find that the benefits far outweigh the fears.”

  I don’t even have time to assure her I’ll take her advice, because a massive purple and white panda bear is dropped from above into my lap. It’s so huge my arms can’t even fit all the way around it. I tip my head way back and see Bodie hovering over me.

  “Finally got that damn bear,” he says with a blinding grin.

  “How much money did it cost you?” I ask.

  “Only seventy-two dollars,” he says with a laugh. “So, you better enjoy it.”

  I don’t say it out loud, but I think to myself, This would look awesome in the baby’s nursery.

  I also wonder what the nursery would look like. Would we decorate it with cliché or our own personal style?

  All questions that lead me to believe that what I thought I wanted when I first found out I was pregnant is not what I want at all right now.

  CHAPTER 21

  Bodie

  I’ve seen some shit in my time as a SEAL and working at Jameson. Bullet wounds, broken bones, guts spilling out. I once saw a man jump off a three-story building and land on his head. It popped like a grape, and brains splattered all over.

  Blood and gore never bothered me, but when the doctor pulls a fucking eight-inch-long needle out of its protective wrap, knowing he’s going to stick that in Rachel’s stomach, my knees go a little weak.

  I’m standing by the examination table at her side, and my hand blindly reaches out to hers. She gives me a comforting squeeze, and I realize it’s the first time since Rachel and I started on this journey that she’s the one giving me support.

  The thought is almost laughable, but I’m afraid if I open my mouth, I’ll puke.

  Rachel just lays there like this is nothing. She even has her other hand propped under her head to raise it, so she can watch what’s going on.

  Dr. Anchors has already run the ultrasound wand over her lower belly and located the baby’s position. He did that while the local anesthetic he gave her was working its mojo. Now he gets all his implements ready, which is basically just a big fucking needle he’s going to stick in my woman.

  The doctor has laid a blue sterile paper over Rachel’s lap, which is where he puts the needle. I watch uneasily as he rubs a gauze soaked with a reddish-brown antiseptic all over her belly. She’s at fifteen weeks now and according to the internet, the baby is as big as a navel orange. I read that last night after Rachel went to sleep. It seems awful big, which means there’s not a lot of room in there for the doctor to make a mistake.

  Just thinking about that again causes my anxiety to flare. I want to scoop Rachel off the table and run.

  I get another squeeze of her hand in mine, and my gaze travels to meet hers. She’s staring at me knowingly, but she doesn’t make a big deal out of my fears. I give her hand a squeeze back, but that’s not enough. Bending over, I put my lips to her forehead and whisper, “Brave girl.”

  “Okay,” Dr. Anchors says. I pull back from Rachel to watch. I don’t want to, but I’m going to because it’s the least I can do. “Let’s get started.”

  A nurse moves in close with the top of the syringe that will draw the fluid out. It’s oddly shaped—a rectangular-looking unit with a pull lever and cylindrical container in the middle for the fluid. Dr. Anchors puts the ultrasound wand back to Rachel’s belly and quickly locates the baby. My breath catches much as it did the first time, and I sneak a quick peek at Rachel. She’s staring at the ultrasound screen with large eyes full of wonder.

  Dr. Anchors holds the wand in place and carefully takes the needle in his other hand. He deftly pierces her abdomen, pushing it down through her uterine wall. My head swims for a moment, but then I blink it away. The nurse moves in, attaches the thing she’s holding in her hand to the cap on the needle, and pulls the lever. The cylindrical container fills with a golden yellow liquid. She pulls on it slowly but steadily, and I get a little dizzy again at the amount of fluid coming out.

  My eyes cut to the screen and I have to swallow hard when I see the needle hovering so very close to the baby. My hand reflexively bears down on Rachel, but I don’t care at this point. I assume she’ll pay me back during childbirth.

  When the tube is filled, the nurse disconnects from the needle, and then Dr. Anchors is pulling it free. He moves the wand a little, checks the baby again, and then pronounces, “All done.”

  “That wasn’t so bad,” Rachel says lightly.

  Dr. Anchors chuckles. “I find that the women usually have an easier time than the men with that procedure.”

  “Not this man,” I say in a deep, confident voice with my chest puffed out slightly. Thank God, the nausea has passed.

  “While most of the results will take a few weeks, we’ll have the gender back in a few days,” Dr. Anchors says as he pulls off his gloves. A nurse dries Rachel from the antiseptic that had dripped down her sides, and when she’s done, I help her sit up on the table.

  “It’s a boy,” Rachel says as she comes up to the sitting position.

  “Oh, yeah?” Dr. Anchors says with interest. He pushes up from the stool and goes to the sink to wash his hands. “I believe Bodie declared it was a girl on the last visit.”

  “It’s definitely a boy,” she says confidently. “I just know it.”

  “You didn’t tell me that,” I say somewhat accusingly. Many of our discussions focus around the baby and the pregnancy, and my little proclamation about it being a girl was just a joke. I have no clue whatsoever.

  “I didn’t know it until just a little bit ago, when we saw him on the screen. And then I just knew.”

  “Huh,” I say in contemplation. She’s so confident about it, I sort of believe her. I could totally handle a son. But then a thought hits me. “I’ve got a weird request, though.”

  “What’s that?” Rachel asks.

  “I don’t want to know the sex just yet.” Rachel doesn’t even look surprised. In fact, she has sort of a knowing smirk on her face. “I mean… I don’t want to find out by Dr. Anchors calling us in two days. It’s kind of—”

  “Anticlimactic?” Dr. Anchors suggests.

  “Not traditional,” I suggest instead as I turn to the doctor. “It’s just… I sort of imagined it would be via an ultrasound and Rachel and I would be looking at the screen, not able to even understand what we’re looking at, and then you will point at a spot on the screen and say something
like, ‘Look… it’s a penis.’ And then I’ll yell ‘yee-haw,’ and Rachel will be like, ‘I told you so,’ and—”

  Rachel starts laughing and claps me on the shoulder. “Fine. Let’s not find out the gender until the next visit with an ultrasound.”

  Dr. Anchors chuckles as he dries his hands. “I’ll note in the file not to call you with results, and believe it or not, you’re not the first parents who have requested to find out via ultrasound.”

  “It’s a plan,” Rachel says with a smile.

  Dr. Anchors reaches his hand out, shakes Rachel’s, and then mine. He and the nurse clear out of the room, and Rachel hops off the table.

  I reach over to a chair in the corner and pick up her clothes. As I hand them to her, I ask, “How did that really feel?”

  As Rachel shrugs on her jeans, she says, “It felt weird. The needle burned at first, then I felt a little crampy when they started taking the fluid out.”

  She stands up straight to button and zip her jeans. “It hurt a hell of a lot more getting shot.”

  “I thought I was going to pass out there for a moment,” I admit sheepishly. “I don’t know how you were so calm.”

  I expect Rachel to laugh at me. Poke at me a little. Tease me good and proper.

  Instead, she steps into me and wraps her arms around my waist. “Thank you for being by my side. That’s why it didn’t bother me that much.”

  Jesus. Sometimes, the things this woman says make me want to believe in all kinds of potential for our future.

  Makes me think we could have something amazing if Rachel were to ever let loose and open herself up.

  When she pulls back from me, she moves over to the chair to put her socks and tennis shoes on. I check my watch, mentally calculating the things I need to do tonight. I’m leaving tomorrow for Egypt. It’s an intelligence-gathering mission we’re subcontracting on with a special forces group and the CIA. We don’t know what the objective is yet, but we’ll be filled in during transport out of Washington.

  I hate to leave Rachel, not only because I’m going to miss her, but also because I worry about her. Everything has been fine since the spotting a few weeks ago, and our sex life is as active as ever. Rachel has even appeared more settled since my parents’ visit last week, and I like the routine we’re in.

  I’m still staying at Rachel’s each night. She’s not asked me to leave, and I’ve not offered. I merely go to my house every few days to do laundry and check my mail.

  As Rachel ties her last lace, I ask, “Mind if we do takeout or something easy tonight? I’ve got a ton of stuff to do to get ready for the trip.”

  “I want to keep the baby,” Rachel blurts as she stands up. If she had a feather in her hand, she could have knocked me over with it.

  Her cheeks pinken with embarrassment. “I didn’t mean to just say it like that. But I couldn’t quite figure out how to bring it up.”

  My shocked senses are having a hard time catching up to what she’s saying. “When did you decide this?”

  She gives a tiny shrug, crossing her arms protectively over her belly. “If I’m honest, that day I was spotting. I just think it took this long for me to admit it out loud.”

  “This is huge,” I murmur as I step into her. I pull her arms away from her torso, and then lay my hand over the spot where our little orange is hibernating. “Are you sure?”

  She nods effusively, but her voice is still wary. “Will you stay here if I do this? Don’t go to Nebraska. I’d really like to stay on at Jameson, and this means you could as well. But I don’t know how set you are about going back home now. I mean… your parents are awesome times ten, so why wouldn’t you want to go there?”

  I shake my head. “I’d rather stay at Jameson. Here in Vegas. With you.”

  Special emphasis in my head on the “with you,” but I don’t push that just yet. It’s enough that Rachel wants to raise the baby with me.

  It’s a decision I knew she’d get right in the long run.

  “When you get back from this trip to Egypt, we’ll have the ultrasound where we find out the baby’s gender. I thought we could maybe decide how to decorate the nursery then. Maybe go out shopping for some things.”

  I have to control myself.

  Because in this moment, I want to let out a whooping holler, pick Rachel up, and spin her around. She’s grabbed onto this baby thing by the horns, and I couldn’t be happier. All the things I thought I’d have to do on my own now can be done with a partner beside me.

  “Sure,” I say casually. “That would be a lot of fun. And a name. We’d be able to start talking about a name.”

  “I’m partial to Keegan,” she says.

  “And I’m not,” I say without any hesitation.

  “Asher?”

  “Nope.”

  “Evan?”

  “Fuck no.”

  “Logan?”

  “Just shoot me now,” I groan in mock misery, and then I grin at her. “Okay, maybe Logan isn’t so bad. But you know, it could be a girl.”

  “It’s a boy,” she says, and her confidence in the prediction has not weakened in the slightest.

  “Come on.” I put my arm around her and turn her toward the door. “Let’s go figure out something for dinner, let me start some laundry so I can get packed, and then we can argue about it while we eat.”

  “Deal,” she says with a laugh. As we walk out of the doctor’s office, I realize I’m not quite sure I’ve ever been this happy.

  Yes, a lot of it has to do with the fact I can stop worrying about Rachel and how a bad decision could have ruined her. I can also rejoice in the fact I can stay on at Jameson.

  But mostly, I’m happy that things will continue between Rachel and me. I sure as hell don’t want to give her up, and I’m hopeful she’s feeling the same.

  That’s a discussion for another time.

  For now, I’ll just be happy.

  CHAPTER 22

  Rachel

  I close the thin manila folder and slide it in my shoulder satchel. I’ve got the company credit card and thirty minutes to get to the airport to catch my flight.

  Kynan approached me yesterday about taking this trip on his behalf. He was slated to fly to Chicago to scope out a venue Jameson would be providing security for. It was a fundraising gala that would see Hollywood’s biggest stars along with a good chunk of prominent politicians. Kynan hates shit like this, so I wasn’t surprised he asked.

  Wasn’t surprised I accepted, even though I hate shit like this, too.

  But Bodie’s been gone for six days. He’s not due back for at least another week, and I’m bored and lonely. This will keep my mind busy for a few days and help the time to pass.

  God, I can’t believe how much I miss him. Never even considered I would, since we’ve not been apart much since I got pregnant. There’s no doubt we’re in a relationship now, but I’m just not sure what that means.

  If I’d been asked six days ago, I would have said it only meant that we were sort of living together, having amazing sex, and would soon be raising a kid together. Very simple.

  But Bodie left and within one day, I was battling an empty, haunted feeling inside of me. The house was too quiet. My meals were too bland. Books I read were too boring, and the orgasms I gave myself were lackluster.

  It’s been incredibly frustrating, but enlightening at the same time.

  My feelings for Bodie clearly have more depth than I ever would have imagined. I even wonder if this could be the start of love for me.

  “Rachel…” Kynan’s voice comes from the doorway of the spare office I’d been using today at Jameson’s headquarters.

  I turn to face him. “What’s up?”

  “Need you to come down to my office,” he says, and my heart sinks over the tone of his voice. It’s flat and bleak, causing chills of apprehension to race up my spine.

  I scramble after him, practically jogging to catch up, and follow him to his office. Jerico is sitting in one of the cha
irs, along with a man I don’t recognize in a dark suit and tightly cropped hair.

  CIA, I’d guess.

  “What’s going on?” My voice trembles with fear because I know there’s only one reason they would call me into a meeting with a spook, and that’s because Bodie is out on a mission right now in conjunction with them.

  “Renegade 1 came under fire night before last,” Kynan says gravely. “They had to split up. Most of them made it back to the rendezvous point.”

  “But not Bodie,” I manage to conclude in a hoarse voice. My hand goes to my stomach, perhaps protecting Bodie’s child from the worst possible news.

  “Nor Cage,” Kynan adds, and my stomach flips at the thought of Bodie and his best friend being on the run from monsters in the dark.

  “The Navy has a SEAL team on the ground now searching,” the CIA dude says. At least I think he’s CIA, but I really don’t give a fuck. Just as long as he gets Bodie and Cage out of there.

  “I’m sending Sal in your place to Chicago,” Kynan says, and I can do nothing but nod my agreement. I’m not leaving Jameson’s offices until Bodie’s home safe and sound.

  “Rachel… they’re in deep,” he says, and I can tell by the hint of pessimism in his voice that he’s setting me up for the possibility of failure. “In a mountainous region just north of Adana. Really deep. Their locator signals are on and transmitting, but it could be tricky getting them out.”

  I knew this trip was going to be risky. Gathering intelligence on our enemies always is. More and more, the U.S. government has been contracting out its need for resources in the form of private companies like ours to provide the intelligence they need.

  “When will we know something?” I ask, refusing to even consider Kynan’s implied suggestion that they may not be recoverable.

  “Hopefully soon,” the spook says evasively, and I want to strangle him.

  “You should go home,” Kynan suggests softly. “I’ll keep you updated.”

  “I’m not leaving until I know Bodie is safe,” I growl, and he just inclines his head in understanding. Jerico watches me thoughtfully, but doesn’t say a word.

 

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