by Lux Miller
“Me,” I breathe as I step into the edge of her room, my heart thundering in my chest wildly as the realization slaps me in the face.
With a gasp, Poppy looks up to where I’m filling the doorway to her hospital room. My hair is loose and wild around my face. I haven’t slept since I brought her in and I’m sure I have dark circles under my eyes. My clothes could probably walk on their own right about now, and I likely smell as awful as I look. I probably look homeless, to be honest, but right now, I honestly don’t care.
The doctor turns to look at me in surprise, shaking his head. “Who let him in here?” Two nurses move toward the door, obviously to shut me out of the room, but the doctor holds his hand up, “Wait. What did you say?”
I swallow the lump in my throat and count backwards on my hand, “You said seven weeks?”
The doctor nods, shaking his hand in the air, “Somewhere around there. There’s no way to be one-hundred percent sure of a date of conception.”
I release the breath I didn’t realize I was holding and step into the room. I look at Poppy and see that she looks absolutely terrified right now. I nod slowly, then repeat myself, “Me. It’s mine… the baby’s mine…”
EPILOGUE
Poppy
“By the power vested in me, by the state of New York and as witnesses by friends and family, I now pronounce you husband and wife…”
My knees buckle slightly as a wave of nausea crashes into me. I sway slightly as the world tilts on its axis momentarily. Bringing my hand to my mouth, I silently will the bubbling sensation in my gut to subside. ‘Five more minutes,” I mutter to myself quietly, “...five more minutes…”
I can assume my face must be some shade of baby shit green right about now, because half a dozen people are looking at me worriedly. One of them is Storm. He looks like he’s about ready to bolt across the aisle at any given moment to catch me if I fall. I hold one hand up and motion for the officiant to keep going. Then I glance at Storm and make a motion to him to stay put. There’s no sense in making a big deal out of small potatoes. The officiant looks at me one last time and nods.
“You may kiss your bride…”
The crowd around me cheers and I feel an overwhelming sense of relief flood through me. I survived the wedding ceremony, which is more than I thought I’d be able to do, if I’m being honest. It took nearly every ounce of willpower I could dredge up just to make it through this, though… and there’s still a whole reception to follow.
“I now present to you, for the first time unified in marriage, Mr. and Mrs. Eli DuBois.”
I give Ashley a sheepish smile as she and Eli turn around, hand in hand, at the altar and begin to walk back down the aisle to the thumping beat of Guns ‘n Roses. She smirks as she glances at the no-longer-able-to-be-hidden-roundness of my stomach and practically shoves her bouquet into my hands. She’s several weeks ahead of me in her pregnancy and she is absolutely glowing. God, I hope I reach that milestone soon, because right now I feel like poop on a stick and I am insanely envious of her.
She and Eli waltz through the gathered crowd of well-wishers, including half a dozen men at the perimeter of the ceremony location that I know her uncle sent here. I know that the guards are here to protect Eli and Ashley and the other Rogers’ siblings, but it’s nice to know there’s no way Brad can get anywhere near me, either. If I thought he was crazy before, the divorce papers sent him into a whole new stratosphere of angry.
Initially, he was released on his own recognizance. When he tried to confront me in the hospital just hours after regaining consciousness from the assault, his bond was revoked and he was arrested again and thrown in jail without bond. He currently awaits trial on charges of domestic assault and attempted murder (two counts since I was pregnant at the time.) The fact that he made terroristic threats against both the hospital and me when he found out that I’m pregnant, helped speed that decision along.
Despite having Brad out of my life, at least temporarily, there was a heavy cloud looming over me for much of my recovery from Brad’s assault. Storm was amazing. He rented us a small apartment in Atlantic City, despite his distaste of living in the city. He said he got a good deal and that the added security features of the building made it worth giving up his nomadic lifestyle. But it wasn’t the where or the what that had me bothered and Storm knew it. He knew that my concerns were all focused on the baby growing inside of me and determining which one of them is the father.
Thankfully, because of Storm’s wise investment of the money he’s made over the years fighting, he has a healthy nest egg saved up and was able to pay for an elective blood test that could determine paternity as early as twelve weeks. So on the date I hit twelve weeks, according to our assumption that he’s the father anyway, both of us submitted several vials of blood to determine our future. Storm told me he’d stay by my side regardless of the paternity of the little one, because both of us need a positive male influence in our lives.
His promise to stick by me regardless ending up being unnecessary because the paternity test concluded, without a doubt, that Storm is the father of my unborn daughter. Yeah, you read that right. It’s a girl. One of the side effects of the paternity test was being able to find out the gender from the baby’s DNA present in my own blood. Since I’ve never been pregnant and there was no hint of a Y chromosome anywhere, the test showed that baby is a girl, which explains the horrific, lingering morning sickness. Although it should really be called all day sickness because it happens morning, noon, and night. I’m just under fourteen weeks pregnant now and I’ve actually lost weight from all the puking.
Ashley is quite jealous that I know the baby’s gender already since she can’t find out for another week or two, although I suspect her baby is a boy like Aspen’s. Aspen is about ready to pop. She’s due in three weeks and is completely miserable, but she’s carrying that baby high and right under her ribs, so there’s no way Gwen will get a little brother yet. Her husband, Blake, looks like he’s as ready as she is for that baby to get here, though.
Ashley likes to tease her brother that he and Aspen are about to have zero time for sex now, since they’ll have two kids under two. I laugh as Blake offers his arm to Aspen, Ashley’s matron of honor, and they start back down the aisle behind the bride and groom. He slides his free hand lovingly over her protruding belly and smiles. He’s a good guy. Aside from his eyes bugging out at the prospect of not having sex for a while, Blake agreed that it was probably a good thing since the pregnancy thing seems to be contagious.
Raven is refusing to drink after any of us, claiming that she doesn’t want to catch it, which is a good thing since she’d have to leave the headache trial if she got pregnant. I keep joking with Hunter that he better wrap that thing well since they can’t seem to keep their hands off each other. Sometimes I wonder if they’re making the candies that made Raven lose the ability to control herself, just for kicks. Whatever is up with those two, they can barely keep their hands off each other, even now as Hunter steps across the aisle and offers his arm to Raven. She giggles and locks her arm with his and they practically skip back down the aisle like two lovesick puppies.
It’s late August now and I had no idea why anyone would want to get married during the high summer heat, but as I turn to take Storm’s arm to follow the rest of the bridesmaids back down the aisle, I realize exactly why Ashley chose this time of year. It may be hot, and the baby blue gown Ashley chose for us to wear may be clinging to things it shouldn’t be clinging to, but the scenery is gorgeous. It helps that Ashley’s new husband is an extraordinary gardener, but they obviously chose August because the roses are in full bloom in a rainbow of colors. As we walk down along the rose-lined aisle, I smile as I come across a grouping of stark white ones. I nudge Storm gently, “Hey, I know you hate things that are white. Wanna paint these red?”
Storm’s mouth twitches as he tries not to laugh, shaking his head at me. “You’re bad, Poppy.” I just shrug my shoulders and smirk. �
�You know you like it and you’re not complaining.” Storm shrugs his shoulder innocently. He’s not about to stick his foot in his mouth and I know exactly why. Being pregnant has made me extremely horny and I’m practically mauling him twice a day. He makes a motion like he’s locking his mouth and throwing away the key and I just roll my eyes at him.
“Hey Pop, you’re looking mighty pretty today. Better be careful before you upstage the bride. Pregnancy looks good on you.”
I turn around quickly to find my baby brother, Jasper, standing behind us. I hadn’t even realized he was in the crowd! It makes me wonder if my other siblings have come, but a quick survey of the crowd tells me they’re nowhere to be found. That’s a shame. I haven’t seen Easton in over a year and it’s been months since I’ve seen Maisy, since before my accident when she dropped by for a weekend to visit at the ranch before she took off to California with Jasper. I smile and throw my arms around him, hugging him tightly. “Cali’s been good to you. You look fantastic!”
Jasper nods, chuckling as he steps away, his blonde hair waving in the wind. I reach up and tug on his unruly locks and rib him, “You’re turning into a surfer boy!
He nods, blushing slightly. “Yeah, Cali’s been good. For both of us, though Maisy is still immersed in her drifter lifestyle. She never stays in one place long. Last I heard, she’s applied to a temp agency and was working in various white collar offices in Beverly Hills. Can’t say I ever expected that, but we all gotta do whatever surfs our wave.”
He winks at me, then turns to Storm, “Which reminds me. Storm, can I talk to you for a minute?”
Storm shrugs, then hold his arms open wide, “I can talk to you man, but your sister has my balls in her purse. Anything you gotta say to me, you gotta say in front of her.”
Jasper snorts. “Fair enough, bro. You know what side your bread’s buttered on. But this kinda has to do with a girl. You remember that surfer I pulled out of the water? Well, her memory still hasn’t returned. I know you’d said your trainer, Joe, is a doctor and all and he’s worked with some head trauma patients before. I was just wondering if you could maybe get her a consult with him? I mean, don’t get me wrong, I kinda like her as she is…”
I interrupt Jasper and elbow him in the ribs, “You’re banging her, aren’t you?”
Jasper’s cheeks go bright red. He points at me. “Precisely the reason I didn’t want to discuss this in front of you, Pop. But yes, we’re… involved. She moved in with me and she says she’s thrilled to be part of my world, but I know that she has to wonder where she came from. I was hoping maybe Joe could get some insight into her past. Find out who she really is… I mean, she couldn’t even tell me her name. I kissed the girl before I figured out what to call her! It’s almost like she didn’t speak English. And she’s a bit quirky. Not that I’m complaining… I kinda dig a girl who isn’t afraid to put her hair up with a fork. It gives her a laissez-faire vibe that I totally dig.”
Storm nods and slaps a hand on Jasper’s shoulder. “Yeah, I’ll get you in touch with Joe. Sounds like you’re pretty smitten with the girl. What if she realizes who she is, and she doesn’t think you’re such a charming prince?”
Jasper shrugs. “That’s a risk I’m willing to take. Sometimes you just know when something is right, and I want to make sure that she remembers everything about her life, not just since the day we met under the sea…”
A note from the author: The first chapter in this book is a scene that happens all too often and can be a touchy subject for many, myself included. But it happens. It happens every day to women, men, and children from all walks of life and it is never okay. Domestic violence and sexual assault are a real problem and so many times, survivors don’t know where to turn or who to tell. “No” means “no,” and it isn’t always verbal. Just because someone remains silent, doesn’t mean they consent. Know the difference between consent and assault. And if you’ve been the victim of a sexual assault or domestic violence, tell someone. Let somebody help you put the pieces of the puzzle back together because nobody deserves to suffer in silence. It doesn’t define you as a person, so don’t let it define the rest of your life. If you or someone you know is a survivor of domestic violence and/or sexual assault, please visit https://www.rainn.org/resources and contact somebody who can help.
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Also by Lux Miller:
Barresi Series
Fairly Twisted Tales Series
If you found errors or inconsistencies in this book, please email [email protected] and let me know about them! Thanks for reading and if you enjoyed this book, please consider leaving a review!