Chapter Thirty-Seven

Brad

The woman beside me was unnaturally quiet, and I was a little worried. She didn’t look well. I wasn’t sure if that was because of my surprise appearance or a late night. Regardless, I was quite proud of my ability to render her speechless. My plan to surprise her had worked. Hopefully, the rest of my plan would go as well. I slid the card key in the door, waited for the green light, and pushed it open.

I heard her gasp and looked down to see the reaction on her face. The room was gorgeous. It had taken some work to get it, but I was glad I had.

“Nice, huh?” I said with a smile. “Better than your original room.”

Her eyes were wide, and she nodded her head. She didn’t say a word. I realized she was still in shock and gently pushed her into the room before turning to grab our suitcases. The woman looked catatonic. I left her inside the door and dragged the suitcases into the separate bedroom. I smiled when I saw the huge bed sprinkled with rose petals. It was perfect. I put the bags in the closet before checking out the adjoining bathroom. The huge Jacuzzi tub was going to make Mia a happy woman.

“Wait until you see the bathroom,” I said, walking back to where I hoped she would be checking out the rest of the room.

When I went back into the living area, she was standing in the middle looking around the luxurious space. She still wasn’t talking. The woman couldn’t be all that surprised. I mean, she did tell me where she was going, and I had surprised her before. I kind of figured she would be expecting me. I hadn’t been entirely sure Helga wouldn’t tell her. I had hoped she wouldn’t and had begged her not to, but ultimately, I knew her loyalties were with Mia.

I walked closer to her and waved a hand in front of her face. “Mia, babe? You’re kind of freaking me out a little. Are you seriously hungover or what? Are you sick? Should I call a doctor?”

She shook her head. “No.”

“Maybe a little hair of the dog will help you find your ability to speak again,” I said, walking to the bottle of champagne sitting in a bucket of ice.

I took in her appearance and realized she was looking a little green. I had gotten in late last night myself and been told there was a big fashion event happening in the hotel. Initially, I was going to surprise her by showing up to the party but changed my mind. I wanted my surprise to be a bit more private and a lot more special. I had decided to wait to make my grand entrance, expecting to be met with open arms and what I hoped would be a lot of sex.

I hadn’t wanted her to think I was crashing her party, so I gave her some space last night. Now I was thinking I should have shown up and taken care of her. Someone should have cut her off last night. I was instantly pissed at the people she was with for letting her get so drunk. In the back of my mind, I thanked my lucky stars some asshole hadn’t tried to take advantage of her. I wasn’t quite sure how I would have handled showing up to her hotel room early in the morning and finding another man in there with her. That could have gotten really ugly really fast.

“Mia?” I said, standing at the bar in the room and looking over the assortment of liquor. “Can I pour you a glass of champagne, or do you need something a little stronger? Shot of whiskey? Maybe you just need some water?”

She blinked several times before looking at the bottles and then the champagne. “No. I can’t.”

I shrugged a shoulder, deciding I was going to pour her one anyway when it hit me. I froze mid-reach for a bottle. Her reply was replaying in my head. It wasn’t right. I looked back at her and saw her standing there, still shell-shocked. I put down the champagne flute and walked toward her. My brain was in overdrive. I didn’t want to jump to conclusions.

“You can’t?” I asked, feeling as if I had been chewing on cotton. My mouth was so dry, I was barely able to get the words out.

Can’t was not won’t. There was a huge difference in her choice of words. If she didn’t want a drink, she would have said she didn’t want one, or no thank you. Instead, she said she couldn’t have one. She was a grown woman. She could do as she pleased. I was afraid to acknowledge what her word choice meant. I stood in front of her, my heart racing as I used one finger to gently lift her chin, making her look at me.

“You can’t?” I asked again.

She shook her head. “No, I can’t.”

I gulped down the lump in my throat. “Why can’t you have a drink, Mia?” I asked, holding my breath as I waited for her reply.

She looked up at me, staring at me as if she could see right into my soul. “I don’t think it would be good for the baby.”

My world tilted as the words sank in. She had said it so matter-of-factly, I almost didn’t believe the words. I was convinced my brain had substituted baby for belly. She couldn’t be. She would have told me. I knew how much she wanted a baby and how excited she must be to be pregnant.

I reached a hand out to her flat belly. “The baby?” I croaked out. “It’s not good for the baby?” I repeated the words, clarifying what she had said.

She nodded her head. “Yes, I’m pregnant. Drinking alcohol wouldn’t be good for the baby. Plus, I’m dealing with some morning sickness and don’t even want to think about drinking.”

Grinning, I barely stopped myself from hooting with glee. I had gotten her pregnant. I felt virile, like a real man. I had done something amazing. I could feel my chest puffing up with pride. When I met her eyes again, she was glaring at me.

“What’s wrong? You’re not happy about this? We’re pregnant, Mia!”

“I’m pregnant.”

It felt as if ice water had been dumped over my head. “It’s mine,” I stated, not asked.

I knew it was mine. Mia was not the type to sleep around, and she had told me it had been a while since she’d slept with anyone else. I knew she wouldn’t cheat on me, even if we hadn’t been officially together. In my mind, we had been.

With that realization, a new slew of emotions cascaded over me. “It’s mine and you didn’t tell me you were pregnant! What the fuck?”

She flinched at my sudden change in demeanor. “Excuse me?” she said, her own temper clearly rising. “I don’t have to tell you anything.”

“I know that’s my baby. Don’t try to tell me otherwise. And if you do say that, I’m going to be kicking some serious ass,” I said, glaring at her. “I know you didn’t cheat on me.”

“Of course it’s yours, you ass! I didn’t cheat on you because we aren’t together!”

“Yes, we are! Were you even going to tell me?” I shouted.

“Don’t you dare yell at me!” she yelled back.

I took a deep breath, forcing myself to stay calm. I couldn’t yell at the mother of my child. I did not want the first memory my child had of me to be me yelling at its mother.

“How long have you known?” I asked, feeling betrayed by her secrecy.

She shrugged a shoulder and refused to look at me.

“How long, Mia?”

“A week or two,” she mumbled.

I felt as if I had been kicked in the stomach. “What the hell? You knew and you didn’t tell me? You’ve been dodging my calls and ignoring my texts up until a couple days ago. You weren’t going to tell me, were you?”

“I was going to tell you. It wasn’t like it was going to change anything. I was just waiting until the right time. I didn’t want to tell you in case I miscarried.”

“Miscarried?” I asked, suddenly terrified.

“I’m not saying I’m going to, but it happens. I just didn’t want to go through all this if we didn’t have to. Besides, me being pregnant doesn’t change anything between us. We are at an impasse.”

“It changes everything!”

She shook her head. “Not for me it doesn’t. I don’t want to get married because of a stupid pact, and I definitely don’t want to get married just because I’m pregnant.”

I took a few deep breaths. This was my fault. I hadn’t told her how I felt and had nearly lost her and the child I had created with her. I vowed right then and there to be better at telling her how I felt.

I took a step toward her. She looked up at me, weariness on her face. “Brad,” she whispered.

“Shh,” I told her, reaching out one hand to stroke her cheek.

She shook her head. “It can’t be about sex alone. I want more.”

I nodded my head, bent down, and picked her up. She looked at me with resignation on her face as I carried her into the bedroom and laid her on top of the huge four-poster bed. She watched as I pulled her leggings down before moving to pull her shirt over her head.

“Why do you want me to marry you? What are you looking for?” I asked, staring down at her gorgeous body.

“I want love, Brad. I don’t want convenience. I want a marriage built on love. A family made from love. A pact isn’t going to give us what we’re both looking for,” she said softly.

I could hear the sadness in her voice. It hurt me to see her in pain. “Okay.”

She shook her head. “No, you don’t understand. I don’t want you to marry me because you feel obligated. I want you to marry me because you love me.”

I smiled. “Okay.”

“What?” she asked.

I stripped off my shirt, anxious to have her. She moved to cover herself.

“Don’t,” I ordered, grabbing her hand from between her legs. I wanted to look at her, all of her, even the most intimate places. I had seen it all before, but it was like I was seeing her with a fresh set of eyes. She was my woman. She was the mother of my child and my future wife. Hopefully, the wife thing wasn’t that far in our future.

I reached for my belt, ready to strip down and bury myself deep inside her. The look on her face made me stop. She looked worried, scared, and even a little angry.

“Mia?”

She sighed. “Brad, I’m not denying we have great sex. I like sex with you. It is amazing. It just isn’t enough for me.”

I smirked. “Baby, I know it’s enough for you.”

The look on her face told me that was not what she meant, and she didn’t find my comment funny at all. She made a move to wiggle away from me. Her arm snaked out as she reached for the blanket.

“No,” I said in a voice that left no room for arguing.

She dropped the blanket.

“The woman I love doesn’t hide herself from me.”

She stared into my eyes, and I saw the moment the words hit home. It had certainly took long enough. She moved her hand away from her breast, looking at me with such love, I nearly came in my pants. I ripped my belt off and shucked my pants.

“That’s better,” I said with a grin before climbing on the bed beside her.

I was going to tell her and show her in every way I knew how. I wanted her to know I loved her with every fiber of my being. Actions spoke louder than words. I was about ready to prove that old saying true.