Total pages in book: 23
Estimated words: 21629 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 108(@200wpm)___ 87(@250wpm)___ 72(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 21629 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 108(@200wpm)___ 87(@250wpm)___ 72(@300wpm)
“This place is way too fancy for my outfit!” I sputter. “You should have let me change!”
But Marcus’s strong arm goes about my waist.
“No, you look beautiful, sweetheart. All the women envy you because of those lush curves.”
I nod, feeling better already.
“Okay, but you’re going to pay for this later,” I warn beneath my breath. He merely winks and pinches my bottom fondly. Then, the hostess takes us to our table and we immediately look over the menus. Marcus recommends a few options, and I select the steak au poivre, petite cut.
“Great choice,” he nods approvingly. “But get the king-size cut. There’s no sense in getting the petite when we’re out.”
“Are you sure?” I ask. “I think that’s for two people.”
He nods and grins.
“Live a little honey. We’re traveling, and it’s time to let loose.”
With that, I nod and order the king-size. The piece of meat is going to be huge, but it’s going to be amazing as well!
While we wait for our food, we continue to chat.
“What made you decide to be a makeup artist?” my boyfriend asks while casting me a fond look. “I don’t think you ever told me.”
I nod and smile.
“Honestly, I’ve always loved how makeup can transform a woman. There are subtle looks that enhance your best features, as well as more intense ones that can make you into an alien, a drag queen, or a supermodel. There are a world of options, and the selection is endless.”
Marcus leans forward and takes my hand.
“Yes, but you look amazing, Bella. You always do, with or without the makeup.”
I blush. “Thanks.”
The conversation moves from topic to topic until our food arrives. Marcus is right. The entrees here are incredible, and the king’s cut is enough to feed an army. Yet, my mouth waters at the aroma of the steaming beef, and I fear I might be ruined for all other restaurants from now on.
After we’ve finished eating and the tab is paid, we head back to his car. It’s starting to get late, and it’s time for this amazing day to come to an end.
But as soon as we’re on the highway, I spot a sign for a Walgreens.
“Do you mind if we stop for snacks?”
He laughs.
“You’re still hungry?”
I giggle. “I could go for something sweet. That chocolate cake wasn’t quite enough.”
“Sure, no problem. I need gas, anyway, and there’s a Rotten Robbie right next door.”
Marcus takes the exit and I head inside while he fills his tank. I work quickly and find what I need. Then, I tuck the box furtively beneath my snack pile, making sure it’s thoroughly covered with gaily-colored packages.
“What’d you get?” Marcus asks when I join him at the car.
“A bunch of options. I’m craving sugar and salt, so Cheetos, Mentos, and Oreos!”
He laughs.
“There must be something to those “O” names.”
“The special something is that they’re all delicious.”
With that, we drive back to the hotel, talking and laughing. When we get in bed, Marcus owns my curves again, making me moan and writhe in his embrace. But after he falls into a deep sleep, I creep quietly to the bathroom and flick on the light. Then I pull out the box from the drugstore.
Oh god, oh god. I can’t believe this is happening, but I was feeling queasy earlier today and actually vomited a bit during the conference. With trembling hands, I take the pink box into the bathroom and read the instructions. This should be easy.
After peeing on the stick, I set the indicator on the counter and stare at myself in the mirror. Big brown eyes and wildly mussed curls look back at me. I look like a woman who’s been ravished within an inch of her life, and the truth is that I have, but behavior like that comes with consequences. Does the man sleeping outside suspect? Mentally counting to three hundred, I steel my backbone. Then I count to three hundred again, just to be sure.
Slowly, I pick up the indicator, both eyes closed. Then one at a time, I open them.
Sure enough, there are two little pink lines in the window.
I’m pregnant.
I lean back against the sink. Marcus and I are usually careful about protection, but sometimes things get hot in the moment. There were only a handful of times when we went without, and the alpha male felt amazing in me without the latex. But apparently, one of those times did the trick.
Oh God, what is he going to say? Is he going to be excited, or disappointed? Then Faith’s face flashes in my mind. I’m literally carrying her baby brother or sister right now in my tummy. What will she think? Will she think I’m a skanky ho for banging her dad, or will she be excited to have a sibling?
I take a few deep breaths. I can’t be more than a month or two pregnant, right? I have time to figure things out. But as I stash the pregnancy test under the sink and shut the light, I pause before opening the door. Certainty strikes my heart: I want this baby. He or she was conceived in love, and I’m ecstatic to have Marcus’s child growing in my heart. The question is one of fatherhood: does my boyfriend want to be a dad again, or is he done with that particular role? I hope to god the former because with or without him, I’m carrying this child to term.