In Sickness and in Wealth (7 page)

K
ayla

As soon as we got back to the
pensione
, I made an excuse to use the bathroom. It hurt tremendously to move. But I wasn't bleeding. I still had the baby. And suddenly, the thought made me incredibly happy. Now that my pregnancy had been threatened, I wanted it more than anything. Some people tried forever to get pregnant. We accidentally fell into it. Maybe we were going to have a brood of children. I didn't know. But no matter what happened, I wanted this one.

Jus settled me in bed and propped up with all the pillows he could find. Dosed me with painkillers. And let me sleep. That night, he slept in the chair so he wouldn't disturb me.

I stayed in bed the rest of that day and the next and slept. It hurt to breathe. It hurt to laugh. It hurt to cough. And it really hurt to hurl. Morning sickness and cracked ribs were an absolutely painful combination. And hiding the hurling became even more difficult.

I didn't get much better in a day and a half. But I didn't get worse. Sam said that was key. It turned out bruised ribs were the perfect cover for most of the symptoms of pregnancy. So there was that. I could sleep all I wanted. Was even encouraged to.

Diana wasn't the nurturing kind. She was the type of mom who simply told you to buck up and bear it. She had no time to baby people. But she was sympathetic in her own way, making sure I iced my ribs on a regular schedule, and always had plenty of cold icepacks. And plenty to drink. Hydration was key. I wondered where Jus had gotten his sweet, nurturing nature from. How had he survived being a small, sickly, nonathletic child in this family?

Being around his brothers, I'd seen firsthand how they picked on him and teased him. I supposed it was natural for big brothers to be that way. But I could also see how Jus didn't appreciate it. Or still being considered the baby when he'd surpassed all of them financially and was something of a shark in the business world. I wondered if his ambition and drive stemmed partly from a sense to prove himself. If so, it appeared to me to be a losing battle. Birth order was immutable. And so was physical stature. No matter how rich, important, or powerful Jus became, he was always going to be baby bro to Jerod and Jeremy.

Who were spoiling me rotten, along with Matt and the rest of the players. I hadn't had so much male attention since I'd be the Beauty of Tau Psi in college, the fraternity's yearly princess. The guys brought me news of the tourney, regaled me with their teams' exploits and videos of tournament play, and tried to fatten me up with an ever-growing variety of gelato.

It became something of a joke and a game with them. The first day I was hurt, nothing sounded good. They tried to tempt me with everything they could think of to get me to eat something. I swore they'd all picked up some Italian mamma tendencies. "You're too-a skinny! Eat-a something, kiddo!"

Finally sea salt caramel gelato did the trick. I gobbled down an entire bowl of it. Fortunately, I'd stopped short of asking for pickles with it. After that, I was deluged with sea salt caramel everything. And a tempting assortment of gelato in an attempt to give me variety in my diet.

"At least she loves something from the sea," Jerod had said with a tease in his eyes. He'd been so sweet to me. Deep down he was a lot like Jus. Just more macho on the outside.

Like Jus, he and Jeremy liked to tease and prank.

He was so much like Jus that way—it was clear what devilment he was contemplating. I tilted my head and shook my finger at him. "Don't you dare try to bring me baby octopus ice cream!"

"
Polpetta gelato
! Never even crossed my mind. I'll have to suggest that. I was thinking more of a topping. Wouldn't a cute, little baby octopus be delicious perched on top instead of a cherry?" He laughed. "Wouldn't dare. Baby bro would use his gray matter to think up a diabolical way to kill me. Either that or give all my electronic devices a virus I'd never get rid of.

"Word of advice—don't get on his bad side. He holds a grudge."

I frowned. "He's still upset with you? I've explained a dozen times.
I
ran into
you
! Not the other way around. And then I lost my footing and fell on the ball. It was an accident, pure and simple. Part of the game. Contact sports involve risk. And, um, contact." I laughed and immediately winced because it hurt so bad.

Jerod was sitting in a chair pulled close to my bed. "Oh, he knows that." He winced, too, out of sympathy. "Sorry. I've had my share of bruised ribs. I know what it's like."

"That's all right. It only hurts when I breathe, laugh, or cough." I tried to take a deep breath of air like Sam had insisted. But it hurt worse than anything. "I'll keep on him."

Jerod patted my hand and grinned. "Good luck with that. He's pissed. He had a romantic honeymoon trip down the coast planned, complete with a couple of days on a yacht with nothing planned but ogling you in your bikini and lots of sex. Now he's not going to get to bone you the way he'd planned."

"Who says he's not?" I said.

Jerod shook his head and laughed. "You're a braver girl than I thought. Then again, any girl who'll do it with Jus deserves a medal." He winked. "Oh, ouch! No. Not there. That hurts. Careful! Watch the ribs." He shook his head. "Not the noises a guy wants to hear. Maybe okay for some guys. But Justin is the sensitive type. Too much pressure not to hurt you to really enjoy the act."

He patted my hand again. "You need to give yourself time to rest and recuperate. Don't push it. Justin can wait. He has plenty of money to take you on a trip another time. He just needs time to get over his disappointment.

"My brother isn't a selfish prick. He's already making noises about taking you home. He'd wanted to fly you back to Seattle immediately. Mom had to convince him to let you rest here a few days first." Jerod paused. "I joke around and tease Justin a lot. But he's a good guy."

High praise from Justin's older brother.

On Sunday, the tourney ended. July had slid into August. Italy shut down for the month. Diana, Kirk, Jerod, Jeremy, and the team were preparing to leave Naples for home on Tuesday. As far as I knew, our honeymoon was still on. Jus hadn't told me any differently.

Jus came into my room, sat gently on the bed, and took my hand in his. "I've arranged for a jet. I'm taking you home tomorrow. You need your rest to heal."

He looked adorably sad and disappointed. His face was set. I'd seen that look before. There was no use arguing the point.

I didn't have the energy anyway.

Jerod had been right on target about what Jus would do.

"I'm sorry." I took Justin's hand. "This is my fault. If I hadn't insisted on playing—"

He cut me off with a kiss. "It's no one's fault. We can't live in a bubble."

That sounded like something Diana would say.

"I'm disappointed." I batted my eyes and put on a pout, trying to get a smile from him. "And really sorry this isn't the honeymoon we both wanted." He hadn't even seen me naked in three days. And I'd been pretty comatose most of the time, anyway.

"How's the injury?"

I lifted my shirt to show him my bruises, which were in full bloom now. Black, purple, and scary. "Ugly."

He grimaced and turned away. "Damn, Kay. They're getting worse."

"It took a few days for the deep ones to surface." I put my shirt down.

"I could kill Jerod."

"That's what he said." I looked him in the eye. "You have to forgive him. It's not his fault."

"I know. I have." He took a deep breath. "But seeing you hurt like this." He shook his head. "This is some shitty romantic trip I've taken you on."

I shook my head. "Jus. This is the best trip I've ever had. That night at the pizzeria when you told me you loved me." Tears welled in my eyes. "It was the most beautiful moment of my life."

He looked almost startled.

"Way more romantic than when you proposed." I tried to say it with a straight face.

He laughed. "Yeah. That was something we both can only imagine."

I laughed and grabbed my side. "Ouch. Don't make me laugh!" I took as deep a breath as I could. "After I heal—"

He took my hands in his. "I'll make it up to you. I'll take you anywhere you want."

I leaned forward for a kiss. "Anywhere you are is fine with me."

His answering smile was radiantly happy. "I love you, Kay."

"In English, even!" I didn't know why that made me so happy. "I love you, too, Jus. So much. Always remember that."

I didn't know why I felt the need to warn him, but I had a strange foreboding. Maybe it was the uncertainty of being pregnant and keeping it from him. I was too perfectly happy. I wanted to hang on to this moment forever. Even though I was in pain. Physical pain was easier to bear than heartbreak. Jus loved me! Now if he reacted well to the news of the baby…

K
ayla

How to tell Jus he was going to be a daddy. How to tell him? How to
tell
him!

We celebrated two months of "marriage" quietly at home on the Wednesday evening after we got back. Over a dinner Magda had made that was supposed to be good for the blood and help me heal. Only, it wasn't exactly two months of "marriage" for me. I'd come into this marriage four days late.

When I pointed that out to Jus, he laughed. "Does that mean you want me to adjust
my
anniversary by four days? Controlling woman! How will we explain that?" His eyes twinkled.

"You're a billionaire," I said. "You can do whatever eccentric thing you want. Have two anniversaries four days apart if you like." I paused, screwing up my courage. "By the way, as a matter of semantics, isn't an anniversary supposed to be a yearly event?"

Jus just grinned. "Yeah. Come to think of it."

My heart skipped a beat. Was he thinking of making this permanent? Was he hinting at it? Or was I reading way too much into things? Would he still be thinking of it when I told him my news?

I almost blurted it out right then. The two-month mark was a good milestone. Something to celebrate. As Jus had pointed out on the plane home, sixty days were over now. Almost all the surveillance tapes would have been overwritten. Just a very small percentage left, if any. Once ninety days were over, we'd be free and clear of any worry over them…

Maybe I should tell him on day ninety?

No, I couldn't wait that long.

His birthday. I had an appointment with an ob/gyn next week. Once I got the all-clear that everything was well with the pregnancy,
then
I would tell him. On his birthday. In some romantic way. Some way that made him feel like stud of the century! Like his love was so potent that getting me pregnant was inevitable. And highly desirable, of course.

According to the Internet, telling a guy in a romantic way almost always involved giving him your pregnancy test all wrapped up like a gift. Preferably after feeding him. Again, preferably a romantic steak dinner and wine. My own aside here—getting the guy happy and relaxed couldn't hurt.

Because nothing says romance like giving a guy a stick you peed on wrapped in a bow. Especially after they've eaten. Maybe even during dessert over another glass of wine. And hoping he reads those two little pink lines correctly. Especially since the novice daddy-to-be presumably hasn't had the advantage of reading the instructions so he knows what
two
lines mean. As opposed to one or none or thirty-three.

I could just imagine the confused looks he might give.
What the hell is this? Are two lines good or bad? Am I supposed to be happy? Or sad and sympathetic?
Because what guy pays attention to that stuff?

Probably, if you're going to give a guy a pregnancy wand as a gift, just to be clear, you should spring for the one that says "pregnant" in the little window. Which I could always do, and simply retake the test. But why?

Another great suggestion—getting down on one knee like you're proposing and asking him to be your baby daddy with the stick balanced on your fingertips like you're offering him an engagement ring. At that point, wasn't it a little too late? Like, he already was the daddy whether he wanted to be or not. And what if he said no? Talk about an emotional kick to the gut.

Okay, so I was going to keep thinking. Whatever I ended up with, there wasn't going to be any question-asking on my part. No options. Just,
You're going to be a dad, Super Sperm.

Because, really, I still wondered how his sperm had gotten through. And Jus was just nerdy enough to enjoy the idea of a superpower. Though maybe not so much that it referred to his sperm.

"What do you want to do for your birthday?" I asked him. What were the odds he'd say,
Have a baby with you!

He shrugged. "There's no need to make a fuss. Something intimate. Last year for my twenty-first I had a huge party. Went to too many bars. After the third bar, I don't remember the rest." He winked.

"Kind of like your wedding," I said, because it was too good an opportunity to pass up. "I'm sensing a theme here." I laughed. "So not a repeat of last year?" I nudged him beneath the table with my foot. "Something you'll remember?" I gave him a hopeful look. "Maybe even forever. Got it. No problem."

He gave me a suspicious look. "What are you planning?"

"Nothing," I said, trying not to give anything away. Maybe I would tell him about the baby over breakfast in bed? Or do the really corny thing and put a cinnamon bun in the oven to heat up for him. And then drag him into the kitchen and point to it there in the oven. And then to my stomach. Until he got the idea.

Jus could be naïve, but he was a quick one. It probably wouldn't take him long.

If that failed, getting a stick I peed on while he ate homey waffles or pancakes was probably better than after a big steak dinner. Less heavy in the stomach when the shock set in. Or the delight. I'd hope for delight.

"Your birthday is a Friday," I said as conversationally and calmly as I could. "Can you take it off?"

He shook his head. "No, babe. Sorry—"

"Meetings," I said before he could finish. "You
will
be in town?"