“See what I mean,” Bailey says to Grandma.
Grandma pats Luke’s hand. “Get ready for the ride, dear.”
“Got my hands in the air and am ready for the first drop.”
“Good. Let’s eat. The food’s getting cold and I didn’t spend all day in the kitchen for us to eat cold food.”
When we’re alone in the hallway, Luke wipes the wetness from my face with his thumbs. “You okay?”
I shrug. “I’m fine. I don’t know what came over me.”
“Mood swings are common in the first trimester.”
“Luke Bauer, have you been researching pregnancy?”
His cheeks turn a light shade of pink as he shrugs. “Maybe.”
“You’re adorable.” And well on your way to earning my forgiveness. I don’t say those words out loud. No need for him to realize he’s on the right path. A little suffering is good for character growth. “Let’s go eat!”
Chapter 26
If I apologized to you in my head, but you didn’t hear it; that’s on you. ~ Violet’s Secret Thoughts
I groan when I hear the doorbell ring. Can’t the world leave me alone to be miserable? When I open the door and see Luke standing there dressed up for our New Year’s Eve party, I feel my lady bits quiver. The man is sex on a stick. But then my stomach gurgles to remind me why I’m in no state to enjoy the man.
I wave him in and run to the bathroom where I throw up the soup I tried to eat for dinner. Luke pulls the hair out of my face and holds it back as he rubs my back while I continue to heave long after the soup has been ejected from my body.
“Morning sickness finally kicked in?”
“Morning sickness my ass. It’s all-day-sickness.”
He hands me a glass of water to rinse out my mouth and presses a cold washcloth to my forehead. “Have you been able to eat anything at all?”
I shake my head. “Baby Bud doesn’t like chicken soup.”
“Bed or sofa?”
“What?”
“Bed or sofa?” he repeats. “Where do you want to lay down?”
I’ve been in bed most of the day, so I choose the sofa. He picks me up and carries me to the living room. “I can walk, you know.”
He ignores my protests and carries me to the sofa and tucks my super-soft fleece blanket around me. “Do you have any ginger ale or saltine crackers?”
“Ginger ale? Saltine crackers? You weren’t kidding when you said you were reading up about pregnancy.” I can’t deny how sexy his concern about my pregnancy and Baby Bud is. Too bad I’m looking about as sexy as a piece of regurgitated shit right now. Which is pretty much how I feel as well.
Luke rummages around in my kitchen for a while. “You have nothing in your cupboards,” he complains. He places a glass of water on a side table for me. “I’m going to run to the store and get you a few things.”
“No, Luke.” I try to get up, but he puts a hand on my shoulder to keep me in place. “It’s New Year’s Eve. Go to the party. Have fun. You don’t need to stay here and take care of me.”
“There’s nowhere I’d rather be than with you, Petal.” He kisses my forehead. “Make sure you drink some water. You need to stay hydrated,” he says as he heads for the door.
“If you’re going to insist on ruining your night, take my keys so you can let yourself in!” I shout before he can escape.
I switch on the television and start streaming a movie. I wake with a start when my front door opens and Luke stomps inside.
“How many groceries did you get?” He’s carrying at least four packed grocery bags. “Did you buy enough food for the entire apartment building?”
“I stocked you up. I want to make sure you have enough emergency provisions if you aren’t feeling well again and I’m not around.”
He hands me a can of ginger ale and some crackers. “Here. See if you can keep these down. Did you throw up while I was gone?”
“No. I mostly slept.”
“Good.” He nods. “You need your sleep.” He kisses my forehead. “I’ll put the groceries away and then I’ll join you.”
“Luke. Seriously, you’ve got me settled with food now. Why don’t you go to the party? I feel bad for ruining your fun.” I’m overjoyed he wants to take care of me, but I don’t want him resenting me and the baby. Am I overthinking this? Maybe.
“And miss spending the evening with you watching one of those corny fight movies you like?”
Ugh! I may have gone through a Jean-Claude Van Damme obsession in my late teens and early twenties. It’s not the worst obsession to have at that age, but it’s damn sure embarrassing now. “I outgrew those movies.”
He groans. “Don’t tell me we have to watch some lame ass romance movie.”
I glare. “Be nice or I’ll make you watch The Notebook.”
He finishes putting the groceries away and joins me on the couch with a beer. “You don’t mind, do you?”
“No.” I’m not going to tell him he can’t drink alcohol because I can’t. “But where did you get the beer? I didn’t think I had any in the house.”
“You didn’t. I bought a twelve-pack.”
My eyebrows raise. “Planning on coming over a lot, are you?”
He grabs the remote. “Eat your crackers,” he orders. What he doesn’t do is answer my question.
I nibble on a cracker while he channel-surfs. He settles on an action movie, which is fine with me. I may have outgrown corny action movies, but I still enjoy the spy thriller type.
I make it through the opening credits before my stomach revolts against the single cracker I managed to eat. I untangle myself from the blanket and race to the bathroom. Luke’s right behind me. “Go away!” He saw me puke once today. That’s enough for a lifetime if you ask me. The man doesn’t listen to me. I’d growl at him, but I’m afraid projectile vomiting is a distinct possibility.
When my stomach is once again empty and the dry heaves finally stop, I collapse on the floor of the bathroom. I’ll move again next year. Literally. I giggle at my corny joke.
“We should take you to the hospital.” The giggle dies in my throat.
“I’m not going to the hospital on New Year’s Eve because I have morning sickness. This is a perfectly normal part of the process. If you’ve been doing your research like you say, you should know this.” And no way am I going to the hospital when I look like death warmed over.
“I know getting sick is normal, especially in the first trimester, but it’s different when I see how much you’re suffering. I wish I could take it away somehow.”
I throw my arm over my eyes to block out the harsh bathroom light. “Maybe if you weren’t the sperm god I wouldn’t be in this predicament. You realize Shelby is going to call you sperm god from now on.”
Luke joins me on the bathroom floor and pulls me close. I rest my head on his shoulder. “I am sorry, you know.”
“Sorry about what?”
“For forgetting to use a condom. It was irresponsible. I should know better.”