CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

PARKER

Once it became official that Ryan and I were a couple, he wanted me to move in with him. I thought, why not? Now, I just have to unpack and put things away.

Everyone is downstairs preparing supper when my phone dings on the nightstand beside the bed. It’s Dad. I’m not answering it. I’ve ignored all his other texts and calls, so he should get the message and stop trying to contact me. I should block his number, but I haven’t done it yet.

Elle knocks on the door and peeks inside.

“Is supper ready?” I ask, setting the phone back down.

“No, it’ll be a bit longer. I just came up to help.”

“Thanks.”

We work together until we get all my clothes hung up. I place my empty suitcases in the back of the walk-in closet.

“This went a lot faster with your help,” I tell her.

“I know how much you hate putting things away.”

I laugh because she’s right. I do hate picking up after myself, though I’ve gotten better—a work in progress.

She stands beside me with her arms crossed, looking too serious. “Everything is moving fast,” she says. “Are you sure about you and Ryan?”

Now I know her true reason for coming up here. She’s worried about me. That’s sweet.

“I love Ryan; he’s the one,” I tell her confidently.

“I just wanted to check. We haven’t talked in a while.”

“I get it. We’ve both been busy.” She hugs me.

Ryan yells up, letting us know supper is ready.

“You go. I need to check on something, then I’ll be right down.” She gives me a smile before leaving.

I go into the bathroom, rifle through the box of stuff I brought, and pull out what I’m looking for—a pregnancy test. I’ve had it for a few days and still haven’t used it. I’m scared to know. We haven’t talked about kids yet, even though I know he wants them just by how he talks. I’m sure it will be okay, but I’m still anxious.

I change my mind and decide to take it later when there are fewer people here. I stuff it into the drawer, go downstairs, and join everyone for a rowdy supper. It goes well, and hours later, Ryan and I clean up the kitchen. After loading the last dish into the dishwasher, I scan the area to ensure everything is put away. “I’m going to bed,” I tell to him.

“I just need to do one thing and I’ll be right there.”

In the bathroom, I eye the drawer. I might have enough time. I know Ryan’s routine; he’ll go to his office and check messages and then turn on the security system before shutting the lights off and coming up here.

I remove the test from the drawer, follow the instructions, and place it on the sink. I check my phone. I have to wait three minutes. I brush my teeth and take a seat on the toilet. I don’t know if I’m ready for kids. What kind of mother will I be?

I jump when Ryan walks in. He came up the stairs without me noticing. I shift my gaze from him to the test. I didn’t want him to find out like this.

“What’s wrong?” he asks, standing near the doorway.

“Nothing,” I say as I stand.

“I know it’s not nothing.”

“I did something, and I’m waiting for the results.”

I pick the stick up and turn it over. My legs almost give out. I clasp the counter to stop myself from going down.

Ryan hurries over and grabs my arm to steady me. “Does that say pregnant?”

I can’t tell if he’s happy or not.

“Yes. I’m pregnant.”

He looks upset.

“I’ve been feeling off.” I pause, figuring out my next words. “I wanted to make sure. I know it’s a surprise. I’m sorry…”

“We’re having a baby?”

He wraps his arms around me and holds me tight.

I gaze at him. He’s smiling.

“We haven’t talked about kids.”

He lays a hand on my tummy and kisses me. Looking into my eyes, he says, “I want kids with you.”

He hugs me again. We’re going to have a kid. I’m going to get married and have a child all in one year. Leaving Texas, I never anticipated something like this.

We move our conversation into the bedroom, and a thought hits me. A vision, really, of me waddling down the aisle. “We have to get married before I grow too big.”

He laughs like I said something funny. I punch him in the belly.

“Don’t laugh at me. I mean it.” Then I think of something else. I close my eyes and fall back onto the bed. Ryan sits next to me.

“Now what’s wrong?” he asks.

I can tell he’s trying not to laugh again. None of this is funny.

“I won’t be able to drink at my wedding,” I cry out as I open my eyes and glare at him.

He does laugh at me now and lies down beside me. I look over at him.

“It’s not funny.”

He pulls me closer so I’m snuggled against him. “I won’t drink at our wedding either, if that’ll help.”

“Thanks.”

“It’s fine. I love you. We’ll get a date set.”

I relax in his arms. It’s going to be alright.