Escape With Me

by Kristen Proby

  “I don’t want you to pay for any of it, Kane. I said before, you don’t pay my way. I don’t give a rat’s ass that you have more money than God himself.”

  “What am I going to do with all of it if I can’t bless me family with it, as well?” he counters, his Irish up. “It means nothing if I can’t share it with the people I love. If it’s two measly acres you want, out of the twenty I own—which is more than I need—you can bloody well have them! Because you’ll be nearby with your family, and it’ll bring joy to you and to me at the same time.”

  I sit back down and stare out at the ocean. How am I supposed to argue with that?

  “I’d like to bring her out here to make sure she likes the property before we make it legal and I hire someone to draw up the plans.”

  “Of course,” Kane says.

  “Are you going to be a pain in the arse neighbor?”

  My brother laughs and drinks the last of his coffee. “Hell yes, I am.”

  “The Emerald City is going to enjoy these nice warm temperatures for the next few days, but then this low-pressure system that’s currently sitting up here off the coast of Alaska will head our way, bringing us some cool air and dropping us down into the forties for the weekend. Sorry, folks, I’m just the messenger. Now, I want you to stay safe around the water as we’re calling for high waves with that wind…”

  “She’s so damn good,” Maeve says. We’re all gathered at Kane’s house to watch Izzy’s debut on television.

  What we’re watching now is the repeat. This particular station runs the morning news twice. Live from five to seven in the morning, and then again from seven to nine.

  It was too damn early to ask everyone to meet at five.

  But no one balked at coming to watch the seven-o’clock show.

  Of course, I was pinned to the TV at the flat at five, and I didn’t miss a minute of Izzy’s weather report.

  “That red dress is smoking hot on her,” Maggie says.

  I couldn’t agree more.

  The dress fits her like a glove. Her makeup is heavier than I’m used to seeing on her, and her long, blond hair is down around her shoulders and teased into long waves.

  “Izzy, isn’t there something you can do about that weekend forecast?” the weekend anchor, Chuck, asks her.

  Izzy chuckles and shrugs her shoulders in apology. “I’m sorry, Chuck, but the good news is, once this bout of cooler weather subsides, we’ll be back in the sixties with some nice sunshine for several days.”

  “That is good news. Thank you, Izzy, and welcome again. We’re happy to have you.”

  “Thank you, Chuck.”

  The anchor bids everyone farewell for the day, and I get a text on my phone.

  Izzy: Just getting off the ferry. Should be home soon.

  I grin and reply.

  Me: Just come over to Kane’s. I came to see the baby.

  It’s not a complete lie. The baby is here. Currently being held by my mother.

  “Izzy’s just getting off the ferry. I told her to come here.”

  “My breakfast charcuterie spread is ready,” Maeve says as she hurries to the dining room table nearby. “I just have to grab the fruit from the fridge.”

  “What in the hell is a charcuter board?” I ask.

  “Charcuterie,” she corrects me. “It’s usually a fancy cheese and crackers tray, but I made it for breakfast, so it has waffles and fruit and all the toppings, along with bacon and eggs and a complete mimosa bar.”

  “I’m hungry,” Shawn says, making his way to the table, but Maeve slaps his hand. “Ouch.”

  “You can’t eat until Izzy gets here.”

  Maeve, Maggie, Lexi, and Anastasia fuss with the balloons that spell CONGRATS on the wall, and we’re all armed with noisemakers when the woman of the hour walks through the door.

  “Congratulations!” we all yell and make our noise, and I watch in horror as the woman I love disolves into tears.

  “Whoa. No, no, no. Don’t cry, love.” I open my arms, and she walks right into them and buries her face in my chest. “Shh, don’t cry. I’m sorry you didn’t want a party, I didn’t know.”

  “I want a party,” she mutters against my shirt. “It’s just I’m so grateful and so tired.”

  She steps back and wipes away her tears.

  “You did so great,” Kane says and pulls her in for his own hug. “You’re a superstar, darling.”

  “Pass her around,” Da says, taking my girl from Kane. “It’s a lovely woman you are, Izzy me darlin’. I’m so proud of you.”

  “You’re all making me cry.” Izzy sniffs. “Oh my gosh, this is so amazing.”

  Everyone takes their turn, hugging her and fussing over her. Finally, Lexi asks her, “What time did you have to get up this morning?”

  “One,” Izzy replies. “I had to be at the studio by three, and we were on the air at five.”

  “Damn,” Shawn says. “You were up before the pub even closed.”

  “Yeah.” She wipes her tears dry and takes in all the balloons and food. “Oh, you guys. This is amazing. Thank you so much.”

  “We watched every minute of it,” Ma says. “We all sat together, right here, and watched you. You were wonderful, Izzy. Smart and sassy, and as beautiful as the sun.”

  “I just stopped crying,” Izzy says and tears up again. “I was so nervous. But it was exhilarating. And so fun. Everyone there is really nice, and I even have my own little cubicle, which I didn’t expect since I’m only part-time. And I have to admit, I’m glad it’s part-time. Because while it’s amazing, I also love the pub, and this way, I can do both.”

  “It’s not often a person can do everything they love,” Da says and pats Izzy’s shoulder. “Good for you.”

  “A celebration drink,” Maggie says and passes Izzy a champagne glass full of orange juice and bubbly.

  I can’t help but chuckle every time I see orange juice now.

  “To Izzy, the best weather girl Seattle’s ever seen,” I say with my glass raised.

  “To Izzy!” everyone says and takes a drink from their glasses.

  Izzy scrunches up her nose. “I think my tummy is still nervous. I’d better just have OJ. God knows I don’t need any more coffee.”

  We settle in with food and drinks, chatting about Izzy’s first day. After everything is cleaned up, and we’ve taken lots of pictures for social media, and everyone has snuggled the baby, people start to leave, to go about their days.

  When Izzy and I are left with Kane and Anastasia, I turn to the love of my life and eye her heels. “Do you have more sensible shoes in your car?”

  “Just flip-flops. That’s all I grabbed this morning.”

  “I have sneakers you can borrow,” Stasia offers, “if they’ll fit.”

  Thankfully, they do, and I lead Izzy outside and along the cliffs.

  “It’s beautiful out here,” she says. “You just can’t beat the view.”

  “No, you can’t.” When we reach the place where Kane and I talked before, I stop her. “What do you think of this?”

  She turns to the water, but I shake my head, brace her shoulders in my hands, and turn her to the land. It’s a flat spot with some trees and a small meadow, which would be the perfect spot for a home.

  “Not the view, the land, love.”

  She frowns and looks around. “It’s pretty, that’s for sure. I like the trees. I’m sorry, what am I missing here?”

  I wrap my arm around her shoulders and kiss her temple. “How would you feel about building a home here? With me.”

  Her head whips around, and she stares up at me in shock, the way she did when I asked her to move in with me.

  Was that just a week ago? It feels like a lifetime.

  “Seriously? You own this property?”

  “If you like it, we’ll own it.”

  Her jaw drops. She takes it all in again and then turns to look out at the ocean.

  “I don’t see anything here not to like, Keegan.�
�

  “It won’t happen overnight. It’ll take time to find the right plans and then actually break ground and build. But it’s something I’d love to do with you.”

  She smiles and leans into me, offering her lips, which I gladly kiss. “I’m honored and excited. It’s gorgeous.”

  “I’m glad you think so.”

  “Are you sure you don’t want to live in the apartment above the pub, though? Because I don’t mind it at all, Keegan. I don’t want you to think that I hate it there or something. I’m fine.”

  “We’re fine there for now. But I can’t help but look to the future with you, and I want more, Izzy.”

  “We have time,” she assures me and hugs me close. “We have time for all of it.”

  Chapter 16

  ~Izzy~

  Oh my God. What is wrong with me?

  I climb into the still-warm bed, burrow under the covers, and will the nausea to go away. I can smell something coming up from the pub. Usually, it would make my mouth water, and I’d go in search of whatever brilliance Fiona was whipping up.

  But today, it only makes the nausea worse.

  I’ve been working both jobs for almost two weeks, and the whole time I’ve felt this way. At first, I blamed it on nerves and exhaustion. My hours are totally messed up, and I don’t have a routine.

  But now, I think something’s wrong.

  I reach for my phone and Google my symptoms.

  “It has to be the flu,” I mutter, reading the small screen. “Except I don’t think I have a fever.”

  I press my hand to my forehead. Nope, no fever.

  “I don’t have chills. Body aches. Do sore boobs and hips count? I mean, they’re part of my body, so I guess they count. I definitely have the nausea.”

  Then, I keep reading down the page, and one word hits me in the solar plexus.

  Pregnancy.

  I sit up and read those symptoms.

  Nausea.

  Breast tenderness.

  Smell sensitivity.

  That’s as far as I get before I toss my phone aside and have to run to the bathroom to dry heave. I have nothing left in me.

  I sit back on my haunches, still hugging the bowl just in case, and let my mind whirl.

  There’s no way I can be pregnant. We’re always careful. And I just had my period…wait. When did I have a period?

  “Oh, shit.”

  I stand and rinse my mouth out, pull on some clothes, and sneak out the back door of the pub. I drive my little car to the other side of the island, walk into Target, and head for the pharmacy section.

  I toss three pregnancy tests and some lip balm into my basket. And then I swing by the bakery for some chocolate chip cookies because I’m going to need them at some point, no matter what the test results are.

  If I can stomach the smell of them.

  I pay for the goods and hurry back home. Much to my chagrin, Keegan is in the apartment when I walk in.

  “Hey, where did you run off to, love?”

  “The pharmacy,” I say. I don’t look him in the eyes, just hurry into the bathroom. “Girl stuff. No worries.”

  Thank God, I can just say, “girl stuff.” Men steer clear of those words.

  I lock myself in the bathroom and get down to business. I pee on the first stick and set it aside, and then open the cookies.

  Yes, it’s gross to eat in the bathroom, but I’m suddenly hungry, and these days, I eat when I can.

  I’m halfway into the second cookie when I look down at the stick and see two lines.

  “What does that mean?” I wonder as I open the instructions and then swallow the now-cardboard bite in my mouth.

  Two lines mean I’m pregnant.

  “Fuck,” I say out loud and drop the stick into the sink.

  “Izzy? Are you okay in there?”

  “Yeah, I’m fine,” I call back and stare at myself in the mirror. “Shit, this is not the plan. I don’t want him to freak out. I don’t want him to think I’m trying to trap him with an anchor baby.”

  I scrunch up my nose.

  “He won’t think that. That’s dumb.”

  “Izzy, open the door.”

  “No, it’s okay. I’m fine. You can go.”

  “You don’t sound fine. Let me in.”

  I shake my head and pace the small space. “I just need some time alone.”

  “Then you shouldn’t be with me because that’s not what you signed on for here, love. Open up. Let me help.”

  God, I love him so much, and this is going to change everything about our relationship. I don’t know if I’m ready for that.

  “This sucks,” I whisper.

  “Okay, last chance, Isabella. I went to get my tools, and I’m about to dismantle this door.”

  I hear the drill start, and he starts to pull out screws from the hinges.

  Finally, I walk over, stick in hand, and unlock the door before he yanks it off.

  I pull it open and close my eyes.

  But Keegan just wraps his strong arms around me and rocks me back and forth.

  “Talk to me, love. There’s nothing going on here that we can’t figure out. What’s wrong?”

  I don’t speak. I don’t pull away. I just wiggle my arm out and raise my hand above my head.

  “Is that what I think it is?”

  I nod.

  “Izzy, it’s positive.”

  “I know,” I mumble against his chest.

  He picks me up and sits on the couch with me in his lap. “Look at me.”

  With his finger under my chin, he tips my face up to look at him.

  “I know it’s so early,” I say, suddenly unable to keep the words inside. “And unexpected. Trust me, this was not my plan. I don’t want you to think I’m trying to trap you into staying with me with an anchor baby or anything because I would never do that.”

  “What in the bleeding hell is an anchor baby?” he asks and brushes my hair over my ear. “Do I look upset to you, Isabella?”

  I stop talking and swallow hard, taking in his handsome face. “No.”

  “There’s going to be a lot to think about,” he says.

  “I know, I just started my new job a couple of weeks ago, and—”

  “This isn’t 1968, Isabella. They can’t fire you because you got pregnant. You can work for as long as you want.”

  “It’s just a lot to take in. And I ate a lot of cookies.”

  “I saw them on the counter.”

  “You can have one. I’ll share.”

  He laughs and drags his hands up and down my back, soothing me immensely. “We’re going to figure this all out, love. First, I think you should probably see a doctor to get it confirmed, and we’ll just go from there.”

  “You make it sound so easy.”

  “It’s not going to be easy.” He kisses the top of my head. “But it’s simple enough. Don’t worry so much.”

  “I’m going to be sick.”

  “Okay, let’s see what we have here,” Doctor Simpson says as she squirts gel on a wand and sticks it right up my wazoo.

  “Oh, that’s not comfortable.”

  Keegan’s hand tightens on mine, and the doctor smiles at me. “Sorry, this won’t take too long. Just try to relax. It’s more accurate this way, given how early it is in your pregnancy. Okay, so this is the amniotic sack.”

  I squint, trying to see what she sees as she taps on the screen and places marks around a dark circle.

  “And this fluttering, right here, is the baby’s heartbeat.”

  “Well, look at that,” Keegan murmurs.

  “I don’t see a baby,” I say, tilting my head.

  “You’re only about eight weeks along, so it doesn’t look like a baby quite yet, but we can see the heart fluttering. It looks strong and perfectly normal for this stage of things.”

  “You said eight weeks?” I ask, counting back. I’ve been on the island for about three months. Which means that I got pregnant one of the first times we were together
.

  And it absolutely, positively cannot be Troy’s.

  Thank God.

  “Yes, that’s what you’re measuring here. Does that sound right to you?”

  “It’s not outside the realm of possibility,” Keegan says. “Although, I usually wear a condom.”

  “Condoms aren’t 100% effective,” Dr. Simpson reminds him. “Things happen. The good news here is you’re healthy, and the baby is healthy.”

  The baby.

  I’m going to have a baby.

  She removes the wand and moves away from me. “Do you have any questions before I leave so you can get dressed?”

  “Is this horrible nausea normal?” I ask. “I’m sick all the time.”

  “Unfortunately, yes. It’s the change in hormones. I can prescribe something for you if it’s too awful. And the good news is, after about twelve weeks, it should start to subside.”

  “Oh, good, just another month to go.”

  “You’ll need prenatal vitamins, avoid consuming alcohol, cut down on caffeine, and just keep yourself healthy.”

  “Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome. My nurse will set you up with monthly visits for a while. I’ll step out so you can get dressed.”

  Keegan and I are quiet as I clean myself up and pull on my clothes. The nurse and I schedule the next three-months-worth of appointments, and then Keegan and I walk out to his truck.

  But he doesn’t start it.

  “You don’t want this baby,” he says quietly. “If that’s the way you feel, I wish you’d just say so, Isabella. Because I want to be happy here, and I can’t do that when I can see that the situation has you feeling miserable.”

  I turn to him and feel my eyes fill with tears. “That’s not it.”

  “Hold on.” He gets out of the truck and comes around to my side. He somehow manages to get me into his lap in the passenger seat and kisses my cheek.

  “I’ve been sitting in your lap a lot lately. I kind of like it.”

  “I need you to talk to me, my love.”

  “I know.” I swallow hard and look out the window as I rest my head on his shoulder. “It’s not that I don’t want children, or even this baby. I love babies. When I hold little Thomas, my ovaries ache. Which is silly, but it’s a thing. It’s just…this wasn’t on my radar at all for a while. It’s such a surprise, and I wasn’t ready. And this part is going to sound so selfish, I’m ashamed of myself.”