Something evil was lurking in the shadows.

Okay, that sounded melodramatic.

It wasn’t technically evil, it was just bad news.

And no one really welcomed bad news.

People wanted to run away from it and pretend it wasn’t true, or that they never heard a thing. Sometimes, they succeeded, but only for a short amount of time.

Eventually, reality caught up.

That’s one thing we all have in common.

I tried to hold onto the whispered fragments of whatever good dream I was having, but it was rapidly slipping away. I whimpered as I prayed for it to stay to keep reality at bay, but it was no use.

It evaporated, my eyes flew open, and I stared at my lavender walls, a frown marring my lips.

What was it that I didn’t want to remember?

I was still foggy from sleep, and my brain was still struggling to catch up with my conscience as my heart beat rather loudly in my chest.

There was something on my nightstand that was blurry, and as soon as my eyes focused, it all came crashing back.

---

It was a pregnancy test.

Mine.

The pregnancy.

Dread, and a feeling of unease settled in the pit of my stomach as I rolled over to my back and gazed at my blank ceiling.

Fuck.

What was I supposed to do now?

Getting pregnant was never part of the plan. What if Clay thinks I did this on purpose to try and trick him?

To get him to stay married to me?

I had no intention of being duplicitous, but he doesn’t know that. What would it look like to him?

He’d probably think he screwed up, and what was supposed to be a simple band-aid would turn into a disaster of tsunami proportions.

What if he asked me to get an abortion?

I couldn’t bear the thought, but it was also a possibility. I placed my hand atop my stomach and looked down at it, a wistful smile on my face as I pondered the idea.

A little boy with Clay’s eyes, and his demeanor, or a little girl with his laugh.

I could already picture it, and I knew that no matter what happened between Clay and I, I was not going to get an abortion.

I wanted to have this baby, and the good news was that I had experience raising kids, and even if Clay wanted no part of his child’s life, it wouldn’t matter.

Well, it would matter, of course, but I couldn’t force him to take an interest in his own flesh and blood.

That was something I was adamant about.

“It’s going to be okay, little one,” I murmured softly as I ran my hands over my tummy protectively. “I’ve got you.”

I listened closely and realized that Emily hadn’t made a peep, which was unusual. It was usually the sound of her cries that woke me.

I frowned as I threw the covers off, put on my slippers and quietly poked my head in her room. Emily was wearing a different set of clothes than the one I’d put her to bed in, and the smell of detergent hit my nostrils.

Clay had definitely been in here, and from the looks of things, he’d had to clean up after Emily. I’d slept through that.

Poor thing.

I felt even more guilty now because I knew that I couldn’t keep this from him. I just had no idea how to tell him.

It’s not like I could buy colored balloons and break the news to him that way. Then again, I couldn’t just blurt it out.

I had to be tactful and mindful of how he might feel. I also had to prepare for an extreme reaction. I didn’t think Clay would kick me out or anything, but I might still need to find another place to live until we figured out what to do.

I was getting way ahead of myself as I tiptoed out of the room and down the stairs, my toes sinking into the plush carpet.

The house was eerily quiet, like the calm before the storm, and I had no way of knowing which way the wind would blow.

Once I reached the landing, I waited to hear the sound of the TV, or coffee brewing, but I was met with silence.

Something was clearly off.

Clay was always up at this time, even if it was a weekend. He liked to watch the news first thing in the morning, and a lot of the times, the TV would blare a little too loud, and he’d apologize sheepishly.

If he wasn’t watching TV, he was tinkering around in the kitchen making coffee and breakfast. He liked to experiment in the kitchen and teach himself how to make new things.

Last week, he made French toast after I mentioned I like it.

The week before that he made chocolate chip pancakes.

I smiled to myself at the memory as I walked into the kitchen, then froze like a deer caught in the headlights when I saw Clay sitting on the counter, his dark eyes regarding me quietly.

I smiled weakly as I glanced around the kitchen looking for something to comment on, and Clay just sat there, not moving an inch, as if he was some kind of statue. He lifted up his mug, eyed me over the rim then quietly took a sip.

“I’m sorry about Emily. I can’t believe I didn’t hear her fuss,” I said weakly, as I wiped my palms on my sweatpants.

“It’s okay. I’m supposed to help out.” He shrugged as he ran his hands through his hair. He was dressed in a pair of drawstring jeans, and a Jersey shirt.

“I appreciate that,” I said, cheerfully as I strode towards the fridge. “I have no idea why I was so tired. I normally wake up right away once I hear Emma.”

“Yeah, you were out of it.”

His voice sounded off, but I tried to ignore it as I pretended to rummage through the fridge. I wasn’t looking for anything in particular, I just didn’t want to look at him and be reminded of all the things that now stood between us.

“I think I might make some eggs. Do you feel like eggs?” I asked as I began to take out the ingredients.

“Are we really not going to talk about this?”

“Talk about what?” I swung the refrigerator door closed, facing him with an innocent expression on my face.

“You know what I’m talking about, Lyla.”

Shit.

I was pretty sure he knew.

But since he hadn’t said it, I could still pretend I had no idea what was happening.

“I actually don’t.” I lifted my shoulders up then let them fall as I organized the things on the counter, taking extra care to be meticulous even though I didn’t need to be.

“I know you’re pregnant,” he said flatly.

I slammed the milk down on the counter with a little too much force. “What?”

“I saw the tests, Lyla. Why were you hiding this from me?”

“How the hell did you find out?” I asked, my tone coming out a little sharper than I intended.

“Did you honestly think I wasn’t going to know? I’m not stupid, Lyla,” he said, his tone laced with disbelief.

“I hoped you were,” I blurted out. “I mean, no. I didn’t mean it like that. What, I meant to say was, I hoped you wouldn’t find out.”

Crap.

I was blurting things out now, and I needed to get it together because Clay was looking at me with his eyebrow slightly raised.

He had a look that said, ‘are you serious’ written all over his features, and I couldn’t blame him.

I sounded like a moron, and we both knew it.

Of course he was going to find out. If it wasn’t the pregnancy test, it was going to be some other way. These things couldn’t stay hidden forever.

“Lyla, look at me.”

I placed my hands on either side of the counter, and forced myself to look up. My heart was pounding in my chest, my palms were sweaty, and I was afraid anger and disappointment would be splashed across his face, but I could do this.

I wouldn’t let it affect me.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” he said, his tone soft and gentle as his eyes sparkled with a feeling I couldn’t quite discern.

I began to reorganize things on the counter. “I didn’t know how to tell you, Clay. I proposed the fake marriage to keep you and Emily together, but I never dreamed that I would get pregnant.”

“These things happen, you know,” he pointed out, his tone light and teasing. “When two people have sex, it’s always a risk, even with birth control.”

I breathed deeply. “Yes, but it wasn’t supposed to happen to us. I was just supposed to help you keep Emily, and quietly exit your life. Now, that won’t happen.”

“What are you talking about?” He stood up, and turned to face me.

“You’re going to think I tried to trick you into staying in this marriage, Clay, and I swear, I didn’t mean for it to happen. I didn’t even know that I was late till I checked the calendar. Please, don’t hate me.”

“Lyla, I don’t hate you,” he insisted, as the early morning light shone behind him, bathing him in a halo of light.

“You don’t?”

“No, of course not. Why would I?” His face was adorably scrunched up in confusion.

“I’m the nanny, Clay,” I reminded him. “Even if we are married that doesn’t change what I am, or what I’m supposed to be doing here. I’m sure you didn’t envision starting a life with someone under these circumstances.”

“Of course, I didn’t,” he agreed.

“Oh.” My head fell forward in disappointment. “Well, as soon as you win the case, I’ll move out. I know it’s inconvenient to have me stay here until then, but if we don’t present a united front to the court, they won’t let you keep Emily, and that’s still important. I’ll keep my pregnancy news on the down low until then because I know it shouldn’t affect the case.”

“Lyla, stop it,” Clay said, firmly.

My head snapped up to meet his, a frown tugging on the corners of my mouth. “Clay, I know this isn’t ideal, but there’s no reason this can’t be civil.”

“Seriously, Lyla. Stop talking.” He tilted my chin up.

“I was just trying to---” I began, defensively before he interrupted by placing his lips on my mouth.

“It’s hard to get a word in edgewise sometimes.” He shook his head in amusement. “Lyla, you’re not letting me react. I’m not angry.”

My eyes widened in surprise.

“I don’t care what the judge or jury say about us. It’s not going to affect the case. I don’t want to talk about that though. This should be a happy time for us.”

He removed his lips, and I tilted my head in confusion. “So, you’re not upset?”

“Why the hell would I be upset?”

“Because the case, Emily, and I’m the nanny,” I sputtered as I wondered if he was going mad.

It was entirely possible.

He did spend way too much time working.

“First of all, you are not just the nanny, so don’t ever call yourself that again,” he started as he stared at me sternly.

“I’m confused,” I echoed.

Clay wrapped his arms around me, looking deep into my eyes. “Lyla, I’ve been in love with you from the minute you walked into my station. I knew that something was going to happen then, I just didn’t know what it was going to be. You’ve changed my whole world. Mine and Emily’s. I couldn’t be happier.”

“You’re in love with me?” I repeated dumbly, as my brain reeled to make sense of what he just said.

Clay was in love.

With me.

He wasn’t going to kick me out, or ask me to abort the baby.

No, this was going to be an actual marriage.

Nobody pinch me if this is a dream.

Clay chuckled. “If it’s a dream then nobody should pinch me either.”

“I hadn’t realized I said that out loud,” I said, sheepishly.

“You did, so does this mean you feel the same way?” he asked hopefully, as his entire body tensed and waited for my response.

“Of course I do.” I threw my arms around him and buried my face in his neck, inhaling deeply. “Ever since I set eyes on you wearing that ridiculous jacket.”

“Hey, I love that jacket,” he complained, good naturedly.

“I know you do.” I pulled back and looked at him. “I love you, Clay.”

He smiled, and his entire face lit up. “I love you too, Lyla, and I want us to be a real family.”

“Me too.”

We both stared down at my stomach, at the life growing inside of me, and Clay bent down, so that he was right in front of it. He kissed my stomach and wrapped his arms around my middle.

“Hey there,” he said, softly. “I’m your Daddy, and I can’t wait to meet you.”

I gazed at him fondly as I grabbed him by the scruff of his shirt and pulled him back up for a deep kiss.

“What was that for?” he asked, breathlessly.

“Oh, you didn’t know that pregnant women are more hormonal?” I dropped my voice to something low and seductive, and the effect was instant.

Clay raised an eyebrow as he allowed his gaze to roam over my body. “It suits you. You’ve never been more beautiful or sexier.”

His mouth descended on mine, and I moaned as I melted into the kiss. Clay moved so that my back hit the counter, and our hands continued to explore, eager to affirm what was between us.

“Should we go upstairs?” he asked in between kisses.

“No, I want to do it right here.”

“Here?” He raised an eyebrow, clearly torn between wanting to please me and wanting to make sure I was comfortable.

I kept my eyes fastened on him as I slipped my shirt off and let it drop to the floor. His eyes grew wider as he noticed that I wasn’t wearing a bra, and my nipples instantly hardened when the air hit them.

“You’re very persuasive,” he commented as he stepped into my arms and began to kiss my neck.

“Yeah? I’m glad you like it,” I murmured as I opened my legs, and he pressed himself against me.

I gasped and moaned as he began to nip my neck and knead my breasts at the same time. I wrapped my legs tightly around his hips and arched my back to give him better access.

“God, you’re so hot right now, Lyla.” His voice was deep and throaty, and I could see that he was holding back.

“Don’t hold back. I want you, Clay. All of you, deep inside of me,” I moaned as I dragged my hands across his back. They snaked under his shirt, and I tried to remove it. Clay stopped what he was doing to chuck his shirt off and throw it to the center of the room.

My hands ran across his naked back, gliding across the muscles, pinching and kneading whatever my fingers ran across. Clay was peppering my neck with kisses, then moving to my collarbone, my ribs, and all the way down to my belly.

He gave me a heated look as he slipped off my sweatpants, so that I was standing there in nothing but my underwear. He placed his hands on either side of my hips and hoisted me up onto the counter before he reattached his lips to mine.

I let my hands travel between us, cupping him over his jeans as I felt him growl in the back of his throat. I kept my hand firmly where it was, driving him a little bit crazy before I began to shove his sweatpants off.

“Too many clothes,” I complained against his lips.

Clay smiled as he pulled back and kicked off his pants. His erection was straining against his boxer shorts, so I quickly helped him dispose of those, and he slid off my underwear at nearly the same time.

We made eye contact as he positioned himself, and in one swift movement he was inside of me. We both groaned at the contact, and I scooched, so I was on the edge of the counter, allowing him better access.

He pulled out then thrust back in, slowly at first, then building speed. I raked my hands across his back and bit his shoulder to keep from moaning too loudly, and Clay’s head dropped to my chest where his tongue began to twirl around my sensitive nipples.

His mouth parted, and he sank his teeth into my nipples as if he was starving, and I whimpered as I pushed myself closer, eager for more friction. He moved back and forth, from one to the other, lavishing each with attention.

His fingers dropped between us, and he began to rub my clit vigorously while he continued to pound into me. I cried out as I came, my entire body writhing in ecstasy, and he followed soon after.

Our heads came together for a sweet kiss as we both breathed heavily together.