Chapter Eleven
Whitney
So far I’ve been pretty lucky. Other than a few times, morning sickness hasn’t been a blip on my radar.
Today that changed in a major way. I take a look at myself in the mirror and squeeze my cheeks, hoping to put some color into them.
I still have the nasty taste in my mouth since I have no toothpaste or mouthwash.
I hope it doesn’t cause me to get sick again.
I have to figure this out, I have to pull myself together and make this work.
“Are you sure you don’t want to go home?” Addison, asks as I come out of the ladies room for the third time in the last hour. I hope that no one has noticed and that no one thinks I was on a bender the night before. That’s the last thing that I need right now.
I shake my head. Being able to do my job, being able to support myself is the only thing that’s kept me going for years.
It was the one thing that pulled me through my divorce.
It forced me to get up every morning, put my feet on the floor, and face the day.
It didn’t matter how crappy that day was, I faced it because I knew I had to.
If I give up that piece of myself now, where will I be?
Besides in a few months, I’ll be a single mother.
No matter what Ryan says, I’ll still be getting up at night by myself and doing things on my own.
No matter what he thinks, what he wants to give, or what he feels I deserve, I don’t expect anything from him.
I won’t because I’m used to doing for myself.
I pop a peppermint into my mouth, the only thing I’ve found that’s halfway soothing my stomach today and square my shoulders.
“I’m fine,” I tell her. “This is something I’m going to have to live with, something I’m going to have to learn to maneuver around. This kid isn’t going anywhere.” It’s the same thing I’ve been telling myself all morning.
“Are we ready, Whitney?”
I turn around, facing the mother of the bride and hope that I don’t look as awful as I did a few minutes ago in the restroom or as awful I still feel. This is one of the most important clients I’ve ever had, and I can’t screw this up.
“We are,” I tell her, going through my mental checklist. At least I’m pretty positive I’m not lying.
I can do this job to the best of my ability without anyone knowing that the child in my womb is wrecking my stomach.
“Tell Peyton that it’s okay for her to come out, and I’ll get everything situated.
This is going to go off without a hitch. ”
I watch as the mother of the bride goes back into the bridal suite and give myself a talking to.
Nothing that I’m going through can ruin my client’s experience.
I have to put my own issues aside and make this the perfect day for the people who are paying me.
My reputation counts on it, and my business needs it.
With a looming maternity leave, I’m going to need to bank everything I can.
Addison is beside me, holding my arm. I’m not sure whether it’s to get my attention or if she just wants to make sure that I stay upright. “I’ll make sure everything is set up, but if everyone has done their job we should be fine.”
I employ only the best, and I know without a doubt that we should be.
I’m through with the peppermint, so I grab a cracker out of my emergency stash and will it to stay down.
I will never again be relying on someone else to make my way through this world.
Even if that person is named Renegade, has arms of steel, and eyes I could lose myself in.
I have to prove that I can do this for me.
Renegade
I’m in my element at the shooting range.
It’s a place where I can control all the variables, and it’s also a place that I can let my anger and anxiety go as I focus on the piece of paper in front of me.
It’s important that all of us keep our skills sharp, but it’s also something that’s carried over since my military days.
“Did you ever think about being a sniper?” Holden asks as he stands next to me, examining my shots.
I’ve put a few rounds into the heart and head of this piece of paper and it feels good to know I haven’t lost my touch.
No matter what the situation, I’m still good under pressure and I can protect whoever needs it.
“I thought about it, even applied to school, but I couldn’t bring myself to go,” I tell him.
It’s hard to explain to people who aren’t familiar with the military way of life that – at least for me – kill or be killed was different than being a contract killer. To me being a sniper was no more than someone putting a bounty on someone else’s head, and my conscience couldn’t take it.
Looking back, it probably had to do with the fact that my parents would purposely put me in situations where I was forced to make a decision, taking away options for me.
I had a really hard time taking away options for someone else, which was why I never wanted to put a bullet in someone else’s head.
I think that’s why I’m having an issue with letting Whitney call the shots on everything having to do with this baby. I’m trying though, trying to tamp down the need inside that says if she won’t offer it to me, I’ll be forced to take it.
“You alright?” Holden asks. I realize then that I’m standing there like an idiot, holding my gun, looking at nothing in particular.
Holden is our leader. If something is bothering me, realistically he’s the first person I should go to when I’ve needed to talk to someone. Obviously Trevor is out of the question, which explains why I blurt it out.
“Tank’s sister and I are having a baby, and he doesn’t know yet.”
Holden is quiet for a minute, before he whistles through his teeth. “Son of a bitch, Renegade, he’s gonna kill you.”
Don’t I know it. At least being here at the gun range says that I’m preparing for the inevitable.
Whitney
It’s close to ten at night when I turn onto my street.
I’m yawning and I’m exhausted, but happy.
The wedding went off flawlessly. The bride was happy, the groom was happy, and the flower girl made it all the way down the aisle before she had a meltdown.
All in all, it was an amazing night. My team and I did our job to the best of our abilities, but it took a lot out of me.
When the wedding party looks back at the pictures, they hopefully won’t see how tired and pale I look.
They won’t pay attention to how dead my team is on their feet, if we’re somehow in the background.
Hopefully all they’ll see that we made their dreams come true and gave them the best time of their lives.
“Shit,” I whisper as I pull into my driveway and turn off my SUV. Parked in the back far enough away that you can’t see it from the street near the storage building is Ryan’s truck, and given that there’s a light on in the house, I see he’s let himself in again.
Grabbing my purse and shoes, which I took off hours ago and replaced with flip flops because my feet hurt too much, I get out of my SUV. I’m slow as I walk up to the back door and let myself in. I’m not prepared for what’s waiting for me.
Ryan is standing at my stove, cooking something that smells delicious. My mouth waters and I realize then how long it’s been since I’ve eaten.
“I see you’ve made yourself at home,” I joke, putting my purse on the counter along with my expensive heels.
“You should just give me a key, sweetheart. Then I won’t have to keep breaking into your back door,” he picks up his keyring and jingles it at me.
I’m not quite sure how I feel about him possibly having a key to my house.
It doesn’t instill fear or anxiety in me, so there’s that, but at the same time I’m not sure I want to give up any of the freedom I’ve become accustomed to.
Instead of answering him, I give him a small smile and a non-committal “We’ll see.
” I pull out the chair I have at the breakfast bar, gratefully sinking into it, sighing as I do so.
“Long day?”
I nod as I take a good look at him. He’s as mouthwatering as whatever it is he’s cooking.
The jeans he wears hugs his ass in an almost loving caress, and the shirt covering his torso clings to his back just enough to make me want to go tear it off of him.
Since the night with him, my dreams have been plagued.
While I’ve never been a sexually needy type person in the past, now all my dreams are filled with a play-by-play of what we did to create this child.
“Are you hungry?” He turns around, and I’m breathless. Renegade is a good-looking man.
“Famished.” It’s then that I realize I don’t have to lie. Whatever was making it difficult for me to eat earlier in the day is now gone, and I think I could attack him and gnaw off his arm.
“Good,” he gives me a panty-melting smile. “Dinner is served.”
I slowly get up from the bar and follow him over to the table where he has two place settings already prepared.
Experience with my ex has me questioning what this is all about, but for once, I’m going to put the part of me that’s wary about all things nice in a box and enjoy this for what I hope it is.
A nice guy cooking dinner for the woman who accidentally got pregnant with his baby.