Bad Boy's Baby Part 69

Two hours in the hospital with no news drove me crazy. Between the nerves, morning sickness, and ill-fated citrus bruschetta hors d'oeuvres, I should have waited for the doctor while sitting on the floor in the nearest bathroom stall.

It was a strange thing for my worst fear to come to life.

I wasn't ready for this. Getting pregnant should have been my biggest shock for the week. It was supposed to be a woman's most crazy revelation. Instead, life threw me for a loop then, mid-way through the ride, crashed my a.s.s down.

Azariah forced me to sit instead of pacing, but I couldn't handle her hovering. Now wasn't the time to piece together just how, where, why I ended up pregnant. She was a big girl. She'd figure it out. I sent her back to the house to clean up, glad for the quiet.

Another hour pa.s.sed and nothing from the nurses or doctors. I b.u.mbled through my purse for change before discovering the vending machine took credit cards. Halloween came early.

...Until the machine stuck and I hulk-raged to dislodge the candy bar and scared a pa.s.sing orderly. Was it too soon to get an epidural?

I returned to my perch with a Kit-Kat I purchased and a Milky Way that dropped in its own terror. I didn't open either. I sipped my ginger ale but regretted giving up coffee because the internet said it might be dangerous for the baby.

Were mocha frappachinos bad too? I mean, the baby needed to get used to it sooner rather than later. Her first words would probably be double pump.

No.

Her first word would be Dada.

I wouldn't let it happen any other way.

"Shay?"

I bolted to my feet, punting the ginger ale into an unfortunate plant. I turned, candy bars in hand. Gretchen met me with a cautious smile.

"Hey," she said. "How is he?"

Oh, guilt tasted about as good as morning sickness. I hated how I'd acted around Zach's pretty blonde doctor, but she didn't hold a grudge. She hugged me.

"I haven't heard anything yet," I swallowed. "He didn't look..."

"What happened?"

"He just...fell. He slurred his words, and he kept rubbing his head. Then, boom. He went down. I tried to protect him when he...he...seizured. I don't know anything else."

Gretchen nodded. "I did my residency here. I'll find someone who still owes me a favor and ask about Zach."

"Thank you."

"Don't worry," she said. "He's a fighter. He'll pull through."

Pull through what? What the h.e.l.l could completely level a six foot four, two hundred and fifty pound beast of pure muscle?

Gretchen snuck through the nurses' station and ducked though the double doors. She disappeared into the mess of swirling white coats and dashing nurses.

It took her a half an hour to return, and I was proud that I only got sick once. Somehow she knew. She offered me a package of saltines and some apple juice.

"Did you find him?" I asked.

She sighed before sitting. "Yeah, I did. The doctor will be out to talk with us."

"And?" I didn't like her delay. My throat closed. "Gretchen?"

"He had some lasting effects from the head trauma he sustained in combat. An un-ruptured aneurysm. He's heading in for surgery now."

"And that's...going to fix him, right?"

Gretchen nodded, pulling her hair back into a ponytail from a scrunchie over her wrist. "They caught it before any serious damage, they think. We'll know more once he's in recovery."

"Oh."

Gretchen's sigh was a polite frustration. "I told him to get checked out. I didn't like the headaches. But Zach was too stubborn. Didn't want anything to prevent him from getting back into the SEALs." She grunted. "I'm surprised the d.a.m.n thing didn't rupture when the doctor denied him the waiver."

My hand crunched the crackers into dust. I stared at Gretchen. "He was denied?"

She scrunched her nose. "Oh, he...hadn't told you?"

"He told you?"

"I guessed when I hadn't heard from him after he returned from D.C."

"So...he's not re-enlisting in the SEALs?"

"Nope. And he's probably p.i.s.sed."

No, he was probably heartbroken. Crushed.

I rubbed my belly. He didn't tell me, but I should have known. He returned from D.C. and rolled with me over every square inch of the library. He took me so aggressively, just to prove his masculinity to himself, as an outlet for the aggression and frustration building in him.

And I never asked. I only argued. I only made it harder on him.

"How far along are you?"

I pulled my hand away from my tummy. Gretchen smiled.

"Sorry," she said. "I saw the candy and the salty snacks. I a.s.sumed it wasn't stress."

"You a.s.sumed right."

Gretchen leaned closer. "When did you find out?"

I shrugged. "Only a little bit ago, I'm still wrapping my head around it."

"Does Zach know?"

I grimaced. "I told him just before he went down. Thinking that wasn't the best time."

"Men are so melodramatic."

I felt bad laughing. Gretchen took my hand.

"How..." The nausea flared. I stuffed crackers in my mouth until I convinced my body I was a chipmunk instead of an expectant mother.

Gretchen understood. "Zach and my brother served together. But Robby died in the same attack that almost killed Zach. He said that Robby was the reason he had a chance to live, so he vowed to take care of me." She shrugged. "When he got his trust, he gave me the money to open my own practice. Said it was the least he could do."

Of course he did. It was never about the money. Not with him.

Gretchen looked nervous, twisting her fingers in her lap. "I promised to keep an eye on him after his injury. I should have done a better job."

"You didn't know."

"Those headaches..."

"He hid them. He wouldn't have told anyone."

Not even me. Or was I not listening?

Gretchen looked up. "Do you love him?"

The lump formed in my throat. It didn't feel right to say it if he wasn't there.

"He invaded every aspect of my life. Now I can't imagine one without him."

"Hold onto that. It'll get him through this."

I ran a hand through my hair. "Is the surgery dangerous?"

"Doctor Milbower will do the procedure. He's very good."

That wasn't my question, and her answer scared the h.e.l.l out of me. "I don't want good. I want the best."

Gretchen's eyebrow rose. I met her gaze.

"I mean the best," I said. "Find out who he or she is. I'll pay for their airfare, for their lodging, and for whatever they'd charge to do this surgery."

"Shay, it doesn't work this way."

She wasn't the first person to underestimate my bank account. "For me it does. Price is no option. I want Zach healed, better than he was before. Can you help me?"

Gretchen smiled. "You really do love him, don't you?"

"I'm not going to miss my chance to tell him."

Chapter Twenty Two - Zach.

Most men didn't survive getting their heads nearly blown off. I wasn't most men.

I once considered myself fortunate for surviving the IED. After waking up in the hospital the second time, I decided I was the luckiest son of a b.i.t.c.h still barely breathing.

The miracles kept on coming. My eyes focused on the chair next to my bed. Shay curled in the cushions, softly sleeping.

I had enough opiates pumping through me to clear out a whole poppy field in Afghanistan, but I trusted my blurry vision.

Shay was the most beautiful woman on the planet. A woman I almost let slip through my fingers. Someone challenging and courageous and so d.a.m.n vulnerable it hurt my own heart.

She had to be mine. I wasn't giving her up.

That was a s.h.i.t-ton to take in while a half dozen tubes p.r.i.c.ked me in a variety of uncomfortable locations. I smelled antiseptic. I tasted dry chemicals. I was pretty sure my head cracked open again.

But there she was. Sleeping by my side in a hospital room.

Like she cared.

Like she loved me.

And it only took a brush with death to get her to admit it.

I shifted. I couldn't remember a d.a.m.n thing besides getting upset. I yelled at her. I threatened to leave for some bulls.h.i.t reason. I might have given her my half of the estate.

But she trumped me. Had I not crashed against the ground, her revelation would have laid me out flat.

She was pregnant.

My heart monitor beeped too fast. It woke her. Shay's gasp warned me, but I didn't have time to adjust the tubes pouring every type of liquid from me. She collapsed at my side.

I welcomed the soft brush of her lips against mine, the herald to her chastis.e.m.e.nt.

"Don't you ever scare me like that again, Zach Harden. You had me pacing for five hours while they knocked out your skull and put it back together."

"Sorry about that." The words rasped. I managed a smile instead. "I'll be more considerate next time."

"h.e.l.l no. There is no next time. This is it, Zach. You're done. No more scrambling inside your brain, you hear me?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"Glad we have that straight."

Shay brushed my cheek. If I weren't so hopped up on pain-killers, I might have felt it. But having her close was just as good.

"What the f.u.c.k am I doing here?" I asked.

She smirked, but I saw through it. She took my hand.