Chapter 36 #2
Thirty minutes later, we left with a restored vintage record player, an amp and some small bookshelf speakers and several vinyl albums.
Arms full, we carted everything back to the hotel.
“Should we venture out again?” I asked.
Archer set the record player in the corner of the room and then came to me. He grasped the scarf around my neck and unwound it.
“No,” he stated. “It’s cold out there. Let’s stay in where it’s warm.”
After Archer made love to me, I conked out for a bit. When I woke up, he was lying in bed next to me, staring at me.
“Hmm, hello,” I whispered, my voice sleepy.
“Hello.” He brushed a kiss to my brow and then wrapped me in his arms.
My fingers traced his ink. “You ready to tell me about your tattoos?”
He touched the ink on my skin. “If you’re ready to tell me about yours.”
I nodded. “You first.”
He pointed to his ribs. There was a beautiful skull with angel wings. “Club tattoo.”
I grazed the ink on his right pectoral.
“My parents’ initials.” He released me so he could roll over to show off his back.
It was a mural of several images that bled together.
Flames. Smoke. A motorcycle. What looked like steel bars.
“I used to think being part of a motorcycle club meant living free. Living outside the bounds of what’s considered normal.
But it’s just another box. Another label. ”
He turned over and peered at me. “Now you.”
“One day, Hadley, Salem, Poet and I decided to get tattoos together. They don’t match or anything, but we all wanted to get one. Even Poet.”
I smiled when he took me back into his arms. “I didn’t think she’d go through with it, but she surprised us all.”
He stroked his hand up and down my spine.
“We all got a tattoo that meant something special to us.” I paused. “I had a friend in high school. She was my best friend. She died of cancer. Aubrey had the most gorgeous hair . . . Black, like a raven’s wing.”
He brushed the raven feather on my wrist. And it made me shiver.
“I told Lenni about her,” I admitted. “After we got her hair fixed.”
“You told Lenni about her? Why?”
“I wanted Lenni to . . . Lenni’s not a normal eleven-year-old, you know? She’s still a kid, obviously. But she’s had to deal with some very adult stuff. I wanted her to know that she’s not alone in that. So, I told her about Aubrey.”
Archer held me tighter against him, his fingers tracing the knobs of my spine.
“Is that okay?” I asked him when he hadn’t said anything for a long time.
“Is what okay?”
I leaned back so I could peer at him. “I worry sometimes. That I’m overstepping.”
“Are we together, Wyn?”
“Yes.”
“Are we going to get married?”
“Yes.”
“Are we going to have more babies?”
A delicious curl went through me.
“Yes.”
“You can’t overstep when you love her as much as I do,” he said, his eyes boring into mine.
“Archer,” I whispered.
He took my lips in another kiss, making me forget my own name.
Making me forget why I had to wait to have a baby with him.
Early the next morning before the sun had even risen, I ran to the bathroom and threw up.
Nausea churned through my belly and just when I thought I was done puking, another bout of sickness hit me.
Shaky and clammy, I flushed the toilet and washed my hands. After rinsing out my mouth, I grabbed a washcloth and ran it under the water and bathed my neck before slinking back to bed.
I wasn’t sure if it was the gas station breakfast sandwich that had done it, or if it had been the few beers from last night at the honkey-tonk bar where we’d had dinner.
I hadn’t even been buzzed by the time I went to bed.
Archer wasn’t awake yet, but even in his sleep he pulled me back toward his chest.
The nausea dissipated and I fell back asleep next to him. When I awoke the next time, the sun was up and Archer wasn’t in bed next to me anymore.
I couldn’t hear the shower, so I knew he wasn’t in there without me.
He didn’t like showering alone.
I stretched my arms over my head. Unfortunately, my body was now awake enough to be nauseous again.
I ran to the bathroom and barely made it to the toilet before puking up bile.
My head was over the toilet when I heard the door to the hotel room open.
I closed my eyes and pressed a hand to my mouth, but I wasn’t done vomiting.
“Wyn?” Archer asked, knocking on the bathroom door. “Are you okay?”
“I think I have food poisoning!” I yelled back. “Stay out there.”
I flushed the toilet and crawled off the bathroom floor. I washed my hands and rinsed out my mouth. And then I hobbled back toward the bed and collapsed onto it.
Archer had brought a tray of breakfast food to the room, and it was currently resting on the small table in the corner.
“Is that orange juice?” I asked.
He nodded and handed me the glass.
I drank it in three swallows and then sank back into the pillows.
“You think you have food poisoning?” Archer asked, his tone flat.
“Yeah. I think I might,” I said. “I puked once already early this morning. The sun wasn’t even up yet.”
“I didn’t hear you.”
“Thank God,” I muttered. “I don’t need you to hear me throw up.”
Archer walked over to the bed and rested his hand on my forehead. “You don’t feel warm. Any other symptoms?”
“Just the puking.” I made a face and closed my eyes. “I feel better now.”
When he didn’t say anything, I cracked my eyes open to look at him. “What?”
He rubbed his thumb across his jaw. “I’ve had food poisoning before. It’s not pretty.”
I wrinkled my nose. “No, I don’t expect it is.”
“Your stomach . . . any cramps?”
I frowned. “No. I mean, right before I threw up, yes. But now I’m okay.”
“Any diarrhea?”
“Archer!”
“Yes or no, Wyn.”
“No,” I mumbled. “God, that would be embarrassing as all hell.”
“You don’t have a fever,” he said. “You feel better after puking. And you haven’t had diarrhea . . .”
“That’s right.”
He stared at me, his maple syrup eyes liquid. “Any chance you could be pregnant?”
I blinked. “Pregnant?”
“You know? Sperm meets egg. Few weeks later you miss a period.” He paused. “Have you had your period?”
“Oh my God!” I grabbed his pillow and pulled it over my face.
He tugged it away and waited. Calmly. Patiently.
“I had my period before I got to Huckleberry Hill,” I finally admitted. “Which was what? A little over a month ago.”
“And then we slept together,” he said. “And we didn’t use protection.”
“You pulled out.”
“Yeah, because we know that works one hundred percent of the time . . .”
Hysteria rose in my voice. “Oh God. Could I actually be pregnant?”
He rose from the bed.
“Where are you going?” I demanded.
“To the drug store,” he said, reaching for his coat. “I’m buying a test.” He returned to the bed and leaned over, pressing a kiss to my forehead. “I’ll be back in a bit. Whatever you do, don’t panic.”
“Panic?” I cried. “Who’s panicking?”
He raised his brows. “We’ll talk about it when I get back.”
“What if I am? What if I’m actually pregnant?”
He grasped the back of my neck and forced me to look at him. “Then you’re going to have my baby and we’re going to be really fucking happy. Eat some toast. It’ll settle your belly.”
Archer released me and then left.
Swallowing, I climbed out of bed and went to the breakfast tray. With a sigh, I grabbed the whole thing and put it on the bed.
I tried not to think about being pregnant, so I turned on the TV while I ate. I was three quarters of the way finished with breakfast by the time Archer returned with a bag from the store.
“Feel like taking a test?” he asked.
“Is there a wrong answer?”
“No. There’s no wrong answer.” He handed me the box.
“Why are you so calm?”
“I’ve already had one kid show up unannounced and I told you I want kids with you. For me, this works.”
“Archer,” I whispered, tears filling my eyes.
“Whatever that test says, I’ll be okay with it. But honestly, Wyn? I’m hoping like hell it’s positive.”
“Why would you want that? Your life—”
“Our life. Yours and mine. We found each other, Wyn. That’s a damn miracle, isn’t it? And Lenni needs a sibling. A few in fact.”
“We just got together.”
“So what?” He exhaled. “What the hell is the point of it all, Wyn? Why are we here? What are we supposed to do? Wait a respectable time to get married and have a family? For fuck’s sake, we’ve already established we’re a family. Now go take that test and tell me if I get to be a father again.”
I climbed off the bed and ducked into the bathroom. I ripped open the box and read the instructions, though it was fairly straightforward. I followed the directions and then set the test on the counter. While I waited for the results, I brushed my teeth. And watched a big pink plus sign appear.
Archer was sitting on the edge of the bed, his eyes tracking me as I moved toward him, test in hand.
A smile appeared on my lips as I showed it to him. “Congrats, Dad.”
He didn’t move for a moment, and then all of a sudden he wrapped his arms around my body and pressed his cheek to my belly.
With my free hand, I dragged my fingers through his hair.
Archer and I were going to have a baby.
“What the fuck is in the water in Huckleberry Hill,” I said after a few moments of tender silence.
He didn’t release me, but he did tilt his head up to look at me. “What do you mean?”
“I mean, I have three friends who fell in love with cowboys and all three got pregnant. And now I’m in the same boat.”
He grinned. “Cowboy sperm. Nothing like it, babe.”
“Hmm. Yeah . . .” I sank down on the edge of the bed next to him. I leaned my head against his shoulder. “Archer?”
“Yeah, Wyn?”
“I know we’re supposed to stay another day, but can we go home?” I lifted my head and stared at him and smiled. “I want to be with family right now.”
He brushed a strand of tangled hair away from my face. “Yeah, babe, we can go home.”