Chapter 40
When I woke that night, Gray was gone, and my hand was on my stomach. My flat stomach.
As if, even in sleep, I couldn’t escape the horrifying acceptance that this life inside me was going to die with me, or the devastating possibility we’d been told to prepare for, even after I’d woken and stayed awake in the hospital.
“Despite the changes we’ve seen, it’s likely the fetus won’t survive.”
“Too much trauma. Too much blood lost.”
“Don’t let these numbers get your hopes up.”
And then . . . “I don’t know how to explain it, but the fetus seems to be thriving. Give your OB a call and see if they want to have you come in before your next scheduled appointment.”
Except, I hadn’t had a next scheduled appointment, and when I’d called my doctor and told them everything, they hadn’t seemed worried about getting me in any time soon, since I’d just been monitored at the hospital for nearly a week.
So, I still had another two and a half weeks to go.
“Come on, baby,” I whispered into the dark room as I gently trailed my fingers over my stomach. “Let me know you’re okay.”
I’d obsessively researched whenever I snuck away to take naps and draw, considering I wasn’t only terrified, I also needed to know things I’d never been allowed to even consider before.
I knew some women didn’t show until much later in the pregnancy, and I knew some women didn’t have any symptoms at all—unless we counted my near-constant crying as a symptom, which .
. . Gray was. I also knew I might still have weeks until I felt it move, but none of that eased any of my fears.
Funny how I could bounce back from dying like it’d never happened, but I couldn’t seem to shake this.
I shifted my hand so it was resting on my hip at the sound of the doorknob twisting and apparently failed at swallowing back my anxious sigh, because Gray’s murmured, “I heard that,” filled the room just after.
“No, you didn’t,” I argued.
Amusement wove through his voice when he said, “Whatever you say, Peach. Light,” he added seconds later in warning, and I braced myself for when he switched on the lamp behind me. The bed dipped behind me, and then his mouth was brushing across my temple. “She’s fine.”
I didn’t bother getting back into that argument again today.
With another tender kiss to the same place, Gray added, “Cloud couch still fits twelve, by the way.”
A hushed laugh started leaving me before I registered the hesitation in his voice. “What?” I snapped, and started turning toward him, only to stop before that pain could twist through me, thanks to Gray’s hands on my shoulder and hip, as if he’d known I would react that way.
“You okay?” he asked in a way that let me know that hadn’t been what he’d wanted to say. I knew he’d been holding back every plea for me to be careful and go easy this past week, and I was thankful for it.
I felt weak enough as it was.
At my confirmation, he slowly released his hold on me, and I did everything to keep from letting my discomfort show as I rolled to my back. “Explain.”
“Right, so, there are a lot more of those ARCK people than we knew of, and they wanted to stay in both Dallas and Huntley.”
“In hotels,” I stated in low warning, prompting that stupid face that made me want to simultaneously punch Gray and kiss him.
All mild hesitation mixed with that signature wry amusement as his wicked smirk stole across his face and showed those ridiculous dimples.
Really, how was he so attractive? And why when he was purposefully frustrating me?
“I’m going to punch you if you say what I think you’re about to say.”
His smirk shifted into a bright smile before settling into something softer . . . settling into mine. “Don’t,” was all he said as he shifted on the bed so he was propped up on his arm, lying beside me. Fingers automatically finding their way to my stomach and making lazy circles as he continued.
“They wanted to be places where the Wreckers might go looking, so they’re at Thatch’s, Wren’s—since Evans still isn’t handling this well—my place, and, yes, yours.”
Embarrassment and shame stole through me so quickly as I worried over who was in my condo and what they were seeing, it felt like I was drowning under them.
“I let them in there,” he informed me before I ever managed to untangle my thoughts, “and they know not to mention anything they might see in there to the rest of our team.”
“Might?” I said on a strained laugh. “Gray, it’s the walls.”
“And as soon as the walls were brought up, it was strongly suggested that what they were seeing wasn’t meant for them,” he told me meaningfully and waited until my head unsteadily dipped in understanding and gratitude.
“As incredible as you are, and as much as I think you shouldn’t be hiding this part of you, I understand that you aren’t ready for everyone else to know.
However, I could only push back against Briggs so much without revealing why you didn’t want people in your condo.
The ARCK guys aren’t going to say anything. ”
“Thank you,” I whispered after a few seconds, even though every part of me wanted to get whoever was in my condo out of it. Wanted to hide whatever thoughts and heartbreaks I’d left painted on the walls.
With a steeling breath, I said, “So, if they’re staying, that means . . .”
“We gotta prepare for a war we know nothing about.”
“You have to prepare for a war.”
His head slanted. “You’ll still be right by my side, Peach.
Just in a different way this time.” Before I could voice my protest at that, he pushed up higher on his arm to lean closer.
His lips a teasing breath from mine when he added, “This time. The only place I want you, when you’re ready, is fighting by my side. ”
I drew in a breath and held it for a few seconds before exhaling with a nod. Reaching up, I lightly touched his jaw, knowing he’d close the rest of the distance between us, and was rewarded with his lips against mine.
Like every other kiss we’d shared since I’d fully woken in the hospital, there was an intoxicating level of desperation that made my heart race, yet somehow, there was a slowness to it that was tender and pure.
As if Gray had found the delicate balance between experiencing the rush of a life that was about to be cut short, and enjoying the unhurried, quiet moments of a life that was expected to stretch on forever.
Gently nipping my bottom lip, he placed another kiss to the same place before reaching for where I’d secured my hand in his hair at some point. “How do you feel about your last name?”
“What?” I asked, still embarrassingly in a daze from the kiss.
Curling his fingers around mine, he pulled them away and pressed his mouth to my palm before letting my hand fall to my chest. “Your name. How do you feel about it? As much as you got a kick out of everyone calling me by your last name, you and I both know I only let that slide because I was afraid they wouldn’t let me stay in your room.
Then it was just too late to start correcting them. ”
I didn’t bother fighting my smile at that memory—the amusement that had grown closer to irritation every time one of the doctors or nurses had called him Mr. Monroe. But I still found myself asking, “What is it you’re asking me, Gray?”
“That,” he rumbled. “What do you think of the last name Gray? Of taking it?”
I pretended to actually consider that and watched as a smile slowly stole across his face, because he already seemed to know what I would say. “Work would get confusing.”
“I have no doubt they’d still call you Monroe.”
“And you’d be okay with that?”
“Wouldn’t change that you’re mine,” he said without hesitation.
“And would I be, even if I said I liked my name?” I gently challenged, because I couldn’t help myself.
“Mallory, you’ve always been mine,” he claimed roughly. “If everything we did to keep us apart couldn’t change that, then a name won’t either.”
My head slowly dipped at the words as warmth spread through my veins. “And what do you think about the name Hudson?”
From the way his pale eyes flared and darkened, I had a feeling he liked it when I called him by his first name. Given the way my heart had tripped over itself far too many times when he’d started using my first name, I understood the reaction well.
But he just swallowed, the action slow and seeming to take effort before he lied, “I could get used to it.”
“You do that,” I muttered seriously, playing his game, “because I have no attachment to the name Monroe. But Gray?” I let a small smile slip through. “You could say I’m strongly attached to that name.”
“Noted.” That soft smile greeting me, his dimples just barely whispering a hello. “And what about diamonds?” I must’ve made a face because Gray—Hudson barked out a laugh.
“You’ve been bragging about knowing me, and you just asked what I thought about diamonds?” I asked, my eyebrows drawing together in something close to disbelief and repulsion. “They’re impractical and useless and—”
“And your dad’s the worst,” he said over me, his smile never once fading. “And I do know you.”
Just as I was about to argue that he really didn’t if he was bringing up diamonds, he lifted his hand, stealing my words and my breath as he produced a ring that was an endless circle of large, rectangular diamonds.
As if he’d known I’d only want a band and yet, he’d somehow known I might like more, when even I hadn’t known that.
“If you hate it—”
“I don’t,” I breathed as tears blurred my vision.
“Really, who knew you got emotional at all, let alone over diamonds?”
A breathless laugh left me. “Shut up.”
Lifting my left hand from where he’d let it fall to my chest earlier, he once again passed his mouth over my palm before sliding the ring onto my third finger, speaking as he did.
“No second ceremony. No people. No second dress. But you did promise me the rest of time, Mrs. Gray, and I’m holding you to that. ”
Blinking away the tears, I pulled my hand from his to curl it around his neck.
The foreign object on my finger seeming to shine, even in the dull glow of the room, as I urged him closer.
Just before his mouth met mine, I offered back the words he’d once said to me, “The world would need to tear me from you now.”