Beauty From Love (16 page)

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Authors: Georgia Cates

BOOK: Beauty From Love
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He parks by the entrance to the wine cave. “You figured it out half a mile back, didn’t you?”

“No.” He looks at me skeptically. “Yeah. But it only gave me time to think about what we’re going to do when we get in there.”

“I recognized your squirm.”

What does that mean? “My squirm?”

“You’re fidgety and restless when you’re turned on but have to wait on me to give it to you.”

This isn’t news to me but I didn’t realize it was so blatantly recognizable to him. “Do you know all my secrets?”

“I doubt it.”

He unlocks the entrance and we enter the dark cave. He flips the switch for the lanterns and our path is illuminated. “I love this place so much.”

“I do too. I’m sorry I haven’t made time to bring you back sooner, but Harold stalks this place, constantly checking to make sure everything is as it should be. He does a top-notch job when it comes to my vineyard but he throws a wrench in me being a caveman.”

That needs to change because it’s been far too long since we were here last. “Then you should give him more time off so we can sneak down here more often.”

“I might just have to do that.”

We walk the corridor and I wrap my arms around myself. The cave is drafty. “Cold?” he asks. I nod and he pulls me into his warm side.

We stop at the entrance to the room where our reception was held. “I still haven’t forgiven you for smearing wedding cake across my face.”

“It was cute.”

I didn’t find a thing cute about it. “It was not. Addison worked on my makeup forever to get it perfect. Do you know what it was like to have her in my face for that long?”

“L, you still looked perfect after I kissed it off.”

We move into the room where he brought me on our first day at Avalon. Fond memories rush back. “I was spread across that table the first time you made me come. Then our wedding guests sat there and ate cake on it.”

“I’m pretty sure your dad sat at the table in the exact spot where I hoisted you up and went down on you.” He enjoys taking a stab at my parents any chance he can. He does it because he hates the way they’ve wronged me, so I’m okay with that.

He spreads a thick quilt on the flagstone-covered cave floor and then the comforter from the guest bedroom so it’s nice and soft. He kicks off his shoes and sits on the linens before he holds his hand out. “Sit with me.”

I step out of my sandals and kneel before lowering myself to sit next to him. He takes a bottle of wine from the basket and removes the top. He pours and passes a glass to me.

“I can’t drink this.”

“It’s just sparkling grape juice.” I take it from him and he pours a second glass for himself. “I knew you wouldn’t be able to drink wine so I wanted to have something else on hand when we found out you were pregnant.” He pats the floor between his legs. “Come sit here.” I scoot over and back until he’s able to cocoon me in his arms. My back is against his chest and he brings his glass to mine. “This toast is to you, my wife and the mother of my son or daughter. You’ve filled my life with so much love and joy this year. It’s something I never thought I’d have. I love you, L, far more than I think you know, and I swear I’m going to do better so I can be the kind of husband you deserve. I’m becoming a better man because of you and this baby.”

Omigod, he is so amazing.

I put my glass down and turn in his arms. “That was so beautiful, I don’t even know how to respond.” There’s only one way I can think of, and it’s not with words.

He puts his glass down when I move to my knees so I can pull my dress over my head. He reaches out and pulls me to him, gently kneading one of my breasts. “Are you sore here?”

“A little.” He unfastens my bra and takes my already hard nipple into his mouth. He rolls his tongue around the tip and the sensitivity echoes in my groin, causing me to tremble. “But that feels good.” He moves to my other breast and mimics the same movement before flipping us so I’m lying on my back.

He plants a kiss over my heart and then moves down the center of my body. He stops when he gets to my belly and places his fingertips against it, rubbing in a circular motion. “You’re already so much more than just a child in my head. You’re a miracle growing right here inside your mum.” He places his hands on my hipbones and presses his lips below my navel for a kiss. “You’re already loved more than you know.”

He moves lower and I lift my hips so he can get my panties off. When they’re discarded, I begin working on the top button of his shirt. “You’re overdressed. Help me.”

He yanks at the waist of his pants and I recognize the sound of his zipper sliding down. I hook my toes in the waistband of both and help him push them to his feet and then off. We’re bare and pressed against one another. His erection is right there, ready to dive in, yet he waits. “This won’t hurt you or the baby?”

“No. He’s in a safe little cocoon.” I bend my knees and part them further before shifting my hips upward to push his tip inside.

I know he’s dying to. I am too. We’ve never gone so long without making love except when we were separated, but I see the hesitation on his face. “We’re fine.”

He presses his forehead to mine. “You’ll tell me if something hurts or doesn’t feel right?”

“Yes.”

He enters me slow and easy, then stops. It’s frustrating as hell. “I didn’t suddenly become breakable because I’m pregnant.”

“I know. I’m just being gentle.”

I can’t take this. “I’m taking control so get on your back. I’m topping.” He pulls out of me slowly and does as I tell him. I climb over and sink down until he fills me completely. “Mmm … see? Doesn’t that feel much more satisfying?”

He puts his hands on my hips and guides me up and down. “You can ride me anytime.” And I do until we both come.

It’s been five days since the paternity test and the pediatrician’s office just phoned to let me know I can come by to pick up the results—but it’ll have to wait. I have more important business to tend. Laurelyn has her first prenatal visit in two hours and I won’t allow a special moment like this to be ruined.

Her morning sickness has reared its ugly head every day this week, so it’s taking longer for her to get up and get going. Her face is so pale and thin—I’m pretty sure she’s already lost weight. That can’t be good for her or the baby. “Mrs. Porcelli mixed a home remedy for you.” She glances at the glass and looks as though she might vomit any minute. “She seemed sure it would help.”

“So she knows?”

“She must since she made this for you, but I didn’t tell her.” She slides up in the bed slowly with her eyes closed. “It wouldn’t be hard for her to figure out since you’ve been sick every morning this week.”

She takes the glass and looks at it. “What’s in it?”

“I have no idea. It just looks like water to me.”

She brings it to her nose for a sniff. “I smell something familiar but I can’t put my finger on it.” She brings the glass to her mouth and takes a tiny sip. “It’s not terrible. There’s a little tanginess with something sweet—maybe a touch of honey.” She takes another sip. “I don’t care if it’s bad if it helps this feeling go away. I hate being nauseated.”

“What about some toast?” I want her to eat because she doesn’t need to lose another ounce. I worry she and the baby aren’t getting what they need.

“Maybe a little later.” Not what I want to hear.

“Promise me you’ll try.”

“I will.” She puts her hand on my arm. “Don’t worry, McLachlan. I’ll feel better in a few hours and I’ll eat something then. I’m not going to let the baby starve.”

I hate not being able to help her. “I can’t control this situation and it makes me feel helpless. I take care of you—it’s what I do—but I’m not able to with this.”

“This will pass in a few weeks and I’ll eat you out of house and home. I’ll probably gain way too much weight and get lots of stretch marks. You’ll wish I had morning, noon, and night sickness.”

“Never. I want you and this baby to have the nourishment you need.”

Laurelyn sips on her drink until she has about half of it down—and it stays. It’s mainly water, I think, but it makes me feel better to see her at least get a little hydration.

It’s a slow process but she gets out of bed to shower and dress for her appointment. We somehow manage to get out the door at a decent time. Despite her present condition, she looks beautiful and I can’t stop looking over at her as I drive.

“What is it?”

“You’re beautiful and I love looking at you.”

“Well, find a time to look when you’re not driving.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

We do the necessary paperwork as we sit in the waiting room, but we don’t get called to an exam room for an hour and a half. “Waiting this long is fucking ridiculous.”

She turns and gives me the
shut the hell up
face. I know it well. “I’m seeing an obstetrician. She has to leave the office to go deliver babies at the hospital. That’s nonnegotiable so expect delays. We’ll get our turn at making people wait when she comes to deliver this one.”

L pees in a cup, gets weighed, and has her blood taken. All of that happens before she’s even put in the exam room. “What else are they gonna do to you?”

She starts taking off her clothes to change into a patient gown. “I’m sure I’m getting a Pap smear since it’s my first visit. She’ll probably feel around to make sure everything is in good working order and I’m hoping for an ultrasound. I really want to see the baby.”

She sits on the exam table and we wait some more—long enough for the doc to deliver at least a dozen babies. I’m becoming very irritable and L knows it. “Be patient, McLachlan.”

“You shouldn’t have to sit and wait like this. You haven’t had anything to eat and it’s well past lunch now.”

She opens her mouth to reply—or argue—but doesn’t when the doctor finally comes into the exam room. “Hello, Mrs. McLachlan. I’m Dr. Sommersby. I’m really sorry you’ve had to wait so long. I don’t usually run so behind but I had two deliveries this morning and one was twins so it took longer.”

“It’s not a problem.” Yes, it is. I won’t have L sitting for hours like this every time she has an appointment.

They talk a few minutes about things I know nothing about as she feels L’s breasts. That’s awkward, having another woman touch my wife like that, but I guess it would be worse if it were a man. Dr. Sommersby asks L to slide down on the table and her feet are placed in metal footrests. I hear a lot of clanking and keep my place in the chair by her head. I don’t even want to know what’s going on under that drape. “Everything looks good. Now let’s take a look with the ultrasound so we can document how far along you are.”

This makes L very happy. And me. I want to see the baby and know everything is all right as well.

The doctor squeezes gel on L’s belly and spreads it around. She takes notice of her navel piercing. “That’s very pretty but I recommend you change it out to something flexible when you get a little further along. Sometimes these stiff rings leave ugly scars.”

“I expected you to tell me I had to take it out.”

“I’m pretty lax on most things, but I do want it out on delivery day in case of emergency. It’s terrible trying to get those things out when everyone is scrambling around in a mad rush.” An emergency—I hadn’t considered anything like that happening. I guess no one goes in to have a baby and thinks something bad will happen to them.

I take Laurelyn’s hand in mine as Dr. Sommersby adjusts her glasses and straightens the monitor screen of the ultrasound for a better view. She moves the probe one way and then another. I can’t guess what she’s seeing but for me, I see nothing but white noise on a black screen. “I was hoping we could see something with an abdominal scan but you’re too early. We’ll need to do a transvaginal.” She returns the probe in her hand to the machine and exchanges it for one that looks like a huge dildo. What the fuck is she gonna do with that?

My thought isn’t quite completed when she rolls a condom over it and I find out. “Relax your legs and let them fall apart, Laurelyn.” Her hand and the dildo disappear under L’s gown. “This doesn’t hurt but it does feel full, especially if your bladder isn’t empty.”

L looks at me with large eyes and takes a deep breath before releasing it. She makes a face that tells me she’s uncomfortable and squeezes my hand. “Whew! That’s a lot of pressure.”

“Hang in there, Laurelyn. It’ll get better once I stop moving the transducer … which should be right about … now.”

Laurelyn sighs a breath of relief. Her grip on my hand relaxes but it trembles as she searches the screen, waiting for the doctor to say something. Anything.

“This is just a two-dimensional ultrasound so the picture isn’t the best. I basically only want to document the gestation. We’ll do a three-dimensional when you’re further along and have something to see that you’d recognize.” She finally points to the screen. “Looks like you’re six weeks, give or take a couple of days. This big dark area is your uterus and that white circle is the sac. And if you’ll look right here …” She adjusts for a better look and points to a white area. “There’s your baby.”

Laurelyn squeezes my hand. “It’s amazing. We’re looking at our baby for the first time. Do you see it, Jack Henry?”

It’s truly an incredible sight to behold, this tiny little person inside my wife. Part me, part her, but whether boy or girl, I hope to see more Laurelyn than me in him or her. “I do. It’s incredible.” I’ll be forever changed by it.

We leave the office and Laurelyn can’t stop looking at the ultrasound picture the doctor printed for us. “I haven’t been able to get the bleeding episode with Addison off my mind since I found out I was pregnant, so it’s a relief to know everything looks okay at this point.”

“Everything is going to be perfect. No worries, okay?”

“I’m excited. I decided I don’t want to wait about telling everyone since we got a good report.”

I debate bringing up the test results. I don’t want to taint our good news but I’m certain Laurelyn wants this over as much as I do. “Dr. Gates’s office called this morning to tell me the paternity test results are in. Do you want to go by and pick them up while we’re in town or wait?”

She sighs. “I don’t want to put it off. It’s better to get it done so we can either stop worrying and move forward or begin the process of accepting that boy as yours.”

Laurelyn waits in the car while I go in to retrieve the report. The woman at reception smiles and wishes me a good evening as she places a sealed envelope in my hand. My name is typed across the front in all caps but all I can think is how it should read, JACK McLACHLAN’S FATE.

Laurelyn and I didn’t discuss how we’d do this, but I don’t open the results. I think it’s something she and I should do together in the privacy of our home—mainly because I don’t know what either of our reactions will be—but I’m giving her all the power. It’s her choice to decide when and how.

I get into the car and hold the envelope out for her. “Tell me how you want to do this.”

She takes a breath and her cheeks puff out as she exhales. “I think we should do it at home.”

“Agreed.” I toss the envelope on the dashboard and steer her Cayenne toward Avalon. The drive has never seemed longer.

I pull into the garage and grab the envelope. “I think we should be alone when we look at this. Do you mind if I give Mrs. Porcelli the rest of the day off?”

“I think that’s best.”

I go in ahead of Laurelyn and relieve Mrs. Porcelli of her duties for the rest of the day. L waits until she’s gone to come into the house and I see why when she comes inside. She’s already crying. “I’m sorry.” She cups her mouth with her hand. “I told myself I wasn’t going to be like this but I can’t help it.”

“It’s okay, L. Your hormones are all over the place so you can’t help this crazy emotional roller coaster you’re riding.” I hold my hand out to her and after she takes it, I lead her to the couch. “Is here okay?” She nods and tears roll down her cheeks as I break the envelope’s seal.

She stops me, placing her hand on mine. “No matter the results, I love you. If he’s yours, I’m not going anywhere. I’ll stand by you and be the wife you need me to be.”

I’m instantly relieved, and for the first time since my life spun out of control, I feel like my world won’t end by what could potentially be on this piece of paper. “I can’t tell you how much it means to me knowing you’ll be here with me either way.”

“I wanted you to know before so you could be assured that negative results aren’t why I stayed.”

I take the paper out and it isn’t what I expected. I thought it would be a letter stating I was or was not the father of Ashton Rosenthal, but I’m wrong. I panic, trying to decipher its meaning. “It’s the actual lab result.” I search through lots of words and numbers I don’t understand about alleles. One set is for: child. The other for: alleged father. And then I see what I believe to be the results.

Based on the DNA analysis, the alleged father, Jack McLachlan, is excluded as the biological father of the child, Ashton Rosenthal, because they do not share sufficient genetic markers. Combined Direct Index: 0. Probability 0%.

I’m not his father.

“Gah!” I put my hands into my hair and fall back against the couch. “Fuck.” Is it wrong for me to be this relieved when the result leaves a little boy fatherless? I don’t have time to sort that out in my head because I’m pulling L into my arms. “Zero percent probability. Jenna Rosenthal’s son is not mine.”

Thank fuck. I’ve managed to put another shitstorm behind me.

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