The Billionaire's Reluctant Pregnant Bride: A BWWM Romance Page 3

  “No we don’t,” he says.

  “Yes we do. You’ve done nothing but make my life a living hell since the day we met. And I’ve repeatedly kicked you for it. Literally. You used to wear shin guards to my house, remember?”

  “Well…that was unfortunate.”

  Yeah, unfortunate was one way to put it. “What are you trying to say exactly?”

  He squeezes my hand. “That only one of us hates the other.”

  Okay. Back up.

  Back way the fuck up.

  Does that mean he was serious about that free mammogram thing? Was that him trying to hit on me? Seriously? I didn’t think it was possible for a guy to strike out so hard. If it were anyone other than Preston, I’d feel bad for him.

  He presses another impossibly soft kiss on the back of my hand. “I love you, Tachell. I always have. I always will.”

  Alright. There was only one explanation for everything that had just occurred: it wasn’t actually happening.

  I was dreaming. I’d been having a lot of dreams featuring Preston lately, along with the obnoxiously amazing orgasms only he could give me. Come to think of it, they were more like nightmares. Yeah, nightmares where I writhed beneath his godly body in unholy ecstasy. I swear, the things he could do with his tongue weren’t possible unless it was forked. He’d made a deal with a sex demon, and now he was invading my subconscious while I lay defenselessly in bed.

  Yes. That was it. Or at least it made far more sense than the other explanation—that he actually wanted to marry me.

  But in the end it didn’t matter if I was dreaming or awake. I needed to get out of here before I lost my mind.

  I yank my hand from his grasp, turn, and start running.

  It’s a bit unfortunate that I somehow forgot about all the screaming wall of bodyguards and paparazzi, though. Also unfortunate was the fact that my eyes were right in line with some dude’s flashing camera.

  For a second, the world goes white. I know I should stop running, but I don’t. Instead, I dig deep again, and find a bit of that strength that had eluded me before. Strength that launches me forward right into said camera.

  Pain shoots through my head. The screaming roars in my ears as something else hits me. An elbow, maybe? I don’t even realize I’m falling until the back of my head smashes against the ground.

  Then everything goes silent, and the blinding white light recedes into darkness.

  Chapter 4

  I’m sinking, or maybe floating. I don’t know. I can’t feel anything except a damp chill. All I can make out is darkness. Far off in the distance, something beeps. If I can hear it, that must mean I’m still alive, right? I focus on the soft, steady sound and try to imagine what it could be.

  It stops.

  No.

  I search the darkness once more, but all I find is silence.

  No. Come back. Please, don’t leave me.

  It’s getting colder. Something aches and throbs in the center of my chest. My heart?

  It starts throbbing faster. Too fast.

  This isn’t right. Something is wrong. It shouldn’t be beating that fast. Why can’t I see anything? Where am I? What’s going on?

  A low, masculine voice cuts through the panic with three little words.

  “I’m so sorry.”

  Why are you sorry?

  There’s a long pause. A choking sound. “I’m so sorry,” he repeats.

  The aching in my chest returns. I want to comfort him, but I don’t know why. I don’t even know who he is.

  And then, I feel it. Something warm in that world of cold. It envelops me. Cradles me.

  It’s a hand, I realize. A hand holding my own. I wish I could be held by these long, strong fingers forever.

  But even though the hand is giving me so much, it’s sad. No, sorry. I don’t want it to be sorry anymore. It’s holding me—I want to hold it back.

  There’s a sudden stab of pain as my extremities start to feel again, but it’s quickly replaced by a tingling pins and needles sensation. I fight through it. I won’t let pain stop me. I want to reach that voice. I start to shake.

  “Tachell?” the voice whispers.

  The name means nothing to me, but I can now hear a hint of relief in that sad voice. I squeeze with everything I have.

  It isn’t much, but it’s enough.

  “Tachell!” the voice cries out.

  I can’t keep it up, though. The darkness is coming back. My strength is fading.

  But that hand doesn’t let me go. It holds onto me like he will never let me go. And before the darkness takes me completely, I think I smile.

  I open my eyes and immediately wince.

  It’s too much. Swiftly, I close my eyes again but I can still feel it in the back of my skull. It hurts—everything hurts. My throat is dry. My head pounds. My shoulders are stiff. And yet…it’s welcome. All of it. Because it means I’m still alive.

  I force my eyes open again and keep them open this time, fighting against my instinct to close them. And even though it hurts to look at the world, I’m happy. For too long I’ve lived in darkness, and now everything is bright.

  “Tachell?”

  My heart beats faster. He’s here. The owner of that soothing voice, of those warm hands. I don’t dare close my eyes. I want to see him before he disappears.

  “Tachell,” I hear again, this time closer. Minty breath spills over my cheeks, along with the scent of something richer and masculine. Suddenly, my heart is beating quickly for a completely different reason.

  What is happening? Is this normal?

  A warm hand rubs my shoulders and caresses my hand.

  “Stay with me,” he whispers. “Please, Seashell. Stay with me. I’ll do anything, I promise. I don’t care if you hate me. Just don’t leave again.”

  I turn my head to the voice Slowly, shapes come into focus. Hair so blond it looks like a halo when the light hits it. Strong, sculpted cheekbones. Lightly tan skin. Eyes such a deep and penetrating blue that it strips me bare. And lips so soft I wonder if kissing him would taste like heaven.

  An angel. I’m being held by an angel.

  And, being an angel, I know that I should have purely platonic thoughts but…

  Um…

  Okay, let’s just say “I don’t” and leave it at that.

  I don’t know why he pulled me from the darkness, or why he’s stayed by my side. Maybe to take me to the afterlife, or maybe to give me new life. Either way, it doesn’t matter. My heart has already decided it will follow him anywhere.

  He stands, pulling away from me.

  “Wait!” I reach out, grabbing his shirt. “Don’t leave!”

  He turns slowly, frowning. “I’m not going anywhere. I’m just calling in the doctor.”

  The doctor? A quick glance around shows me that I’m in a hospital. I sit up, wincing.

  “Hey, hey,” he whispers, and again those warm hands rub my body. “Don’t push yourself. You’ve been out for a few hours.”

  A few hours? I feel like I’ve been sleeping for centuries. Why, I can’t even remember a time before the darkness.

  “Your parents has been notified. Sondra is on her way over, as is Reggie. Bastard’s phone went straight to voicemail, and he had the gall to yell at me for it. But that’s Reggie for you. He’s got a serious soft spot for his twin sister.”

  My heartbeat starts to escalate. What is this man talking about?

  The monitor by the bed starts beeping.

  “Hey,” the man whispers. “It will be alright. I’m going to call in a doctor—”

  I grab his shirt tighter. “Don’t.”

  He breathes deeply. His warm fingers gently trace my hairline. “I’ll be right here, alright? I’m just going to use the phone on the wall.”

  “Promise?”

  “Yeah. I promise. I wouldn’t leave even if you asked me to.”

  Relieved, I let go. “Good.”

  He has an odd expression on his face, like that wasn’
t the response he expected to get. But before I have time to think more on it, he picks up the phone. “Tachell Jones is awake…She seems stable…Yeah, she can talk…Okay.” He hangs up. “They’ll be here in a few minutes.”

  He looks down, sighing. “There’s something I need to tell you.”

  My stomach drops. Oh God. Anything that can upset the angel this much must be horrible. He’s so strong and beautiful. Every part of him, perfection. I’m sure even the parts I can’t see are perfect. Not that I’m thinking of them, or imagining what he’d look like without his shirt…

  Okay. You’ve only been conscious a few minutes. Get it under control, girl!

  “I told them I was your fiance.”

  “You did?”

  “Well, they actually assumed based on what happened, but…I think that’s part of the reason why I’m still in here. I mean, I’m also the father, but generally it’s only family allowed.”

  Wait…father? FATHER?!?!? Oh God, please tell me I didn’t just fantasize about seeing my dad naked!

  I vomit a little bit in my mouth. “Y-you’re my dad?”

  He frowns. “What?”

  “You said father.”

  “Yeah, of the baby.”

  “Um…what baby?”

  He kneels down beside the bed, concern etched into his features. “Tachell, do you know who I am?”

  I know I should answer: I have no idea who you are. But I can’t bring myself to say it because I feel like I do know.

  He’s the warm hand in the cold.

  He’s the lone voice in the darkness.

  He’s the only thing I do know.

  And having him look at me like this—ask me like this—hurts so bad that I can’t put it into words.

  “Oh shit, I didn’t mean to upset you,” he whispers. He wets his lips, about to say something else, when the door flies open.

  My head whips up to the door just in time to see a very large black man glaring with deadly intent at the angel. “Easterbrook,” he rasps menacingly, raising his hands to crack his knuckles. “Get the fuck away from my sister.”

  Chapter 5

  So, apparently I have a brother.

  A very big, very intimidating, very protective brother.

  And right now he’s super pissed.

  I’d like to say I’m glad he’s not mad at me, but at the moment all I can feel is fear for the angel’s life.

  I think the angel is a little afraid, too. “Now Reggie, your sister is an adult.”

  The power of reason has no affect on Reggie. “You make me sick.”

  The angel tries again. “She’s had a lot happen today and she just woke up. You’re scaring her.”

  Reggie then twists his lips into the kind of smile nightmares are made of. “Are you sure she’s the one I’m scaring?”

  Alright, I think it’s time to intervene. “I’m sure that I’m the one you’re scaring.”

  Reggie’s head whips towards me, and his entire demeanor changes. “Oh, Tachell. I was so worried. Are you okay?”

  I don’t think it’s possible for my eyes to bug out any further than they are right now. He was glaring laser death rays at the angel…but he’s looking at me like I’m a basket full of mewing kittens and he’s trying to bottle feed them all at once.

  “I don’t think she’s okay,” Reggie announces. “Where is the doctor?”

  “On his way. She’ll be here any minute.”

  “Why isn’t she here now? Why did they leave you alone in the room with her?”

  “Now, Reggie, calm down…”

  Wrong thing to say. Reggie leaps up and shakes his finger in the angel’s face. “Did you fuck my sister, Easterbrook?”

  My heart gallops out of my chest. Oh my God…Did he? Did we…?

  No way.

  No fucking way.

  I’d remember bumping uglies with him even if it happened. You don’t forget things like that. He is an angel. I figured even having those thoughts before would give me a one way ticket to hell. One night with him? Oh, I don’t even want to know what kind of damage that would wreck on my poor soul, but I’m pretty sure it would be worth it.

  The angel sighs. “I don’t think now is the time to have this conversation.”

  I sit up. No. Please have this conversation. I need to know.

  “Oh, would you rather take it outside?”

  “Not particularly. I’d rather we discuss it over coffee in a few weeks, or if that doesn’t work for you, some other public place after you’ve had time to…digest things.”

  “Digest what, exactly?” Reggie hisses. Yes, actually hisses, like a serpent.

  The angel shuts his eyes and takes a deep breath. “Not now.”

  “The only reason why I haven’t smashed your face in is because she is here.” Reggie points at me.

  “I know. That’s why I don’t want to take it outside.”

  “Traitor,” my brother sneers.

  The angel grits his jaw.

  The promise of bloodlust hangs in the air. My mind races with nervous anticipation.

  Wait.

  Hold up.

  Reggie seems to think I…did it…with the angel. And wasn’t the angel talking about fatherhood earlier? Does that mean…?

  I bring my hand to my stomach. It doesn’t feel pregnant. Well, not that I’d know what “pregnant” felt like, but there doesn’t seem to be anything there except a generous helping of a few extra pounds.

  The angel notices my gesture immediately. “Don’t worry, Tachell. Our baby is fine.”

  Our baby!?!?!?!?

  “OUR BABY!?!?!?!?” A masculine voice bellows. And, not gonna lie, it freaks me out because for a second I thought my belly just roared.

  The angel ignores his friend. He places his hand on top of mine. I glance down at his white fingers intertwined with mine. “I’m sorry, Tachell,” the angel murmurs. “It should have been the first thing I said when you woke.”

  My throat is too full to speak.

  I’m having a baby? With this gorgeous man? How can this even be possible? Did I actually die and go to heaven, because this can’t possibly be real.

  And then my loud, obnoxious brother brings us all back down to earth. “Get your filthy mitts off her!”

  The angel works his jaw. “Reggie, I’ve tolerated your outbursts so far because you are my best friend and I know this is hard for you.”

  “You think this is hard for me?” His pointer finger stabs at his chest. “You better make things right, Easterbrook.”

  My entire body shudders. I don’t think the phrase “make things right” has ever sounded so much like “make things wrong.”

  The angel seems to have come to the same conclusion. “What, exactly, are you suggesting?”

  Reggie shakes his head. “You screwed with the wrong guy, Easterbrook. I’m not letting you get away with this shit. Don’t think your billions are getting you out of this one.”

  “Billions?” I whisper. Was he talking about…money?

  “This is Tachell,” Reggie continues. “Tachell. And I’m not leaving this room until you promise to make an honest woman out of her.”

  My heart stops.

  Is he saying what I think he’s saying?

  “I’m guessing you’re talking about marriage,” the angel says.

  Marriage? My heart flies out of my chest, does a turn around the room, lands on the metal frame holding up the curtain around my bed, and starts singing like Snow White just busted out her broom.

  My brother nods.

  “Well, that’s up to Tachell,” the angel says, removing his hand from my belly and placing it on my shoulder. “And you and I will both respect her decision.”

  Wait, did he just insinuate that the decision to marry was up to me? Alright, this better stop. Otherwise, my heart is going to explode.

  “I already asked her,” the angel continues. “And she said no.”

  “What?” I shriek.

  Both Reggie and the angel’s hea
d whip towards me.

  I hold up my finger and wet my lips, ready to speak, but words fail me. This makes no sense.

  “‘Don’t force yourself, Tachell,” my brother tells me, eyebrows heavy with concern. “If you don’t want to marry this piece of shit, I’ll gladly…take care…of him for you.”

  All I have to say to that is another shrieking “What!?!?!”

  “Don’t worry. He’s not getting away with this,” Reggie mumbles.

  What the hell do I say to that? Actually, brother dearest, that’s exactly why I am worried!

  “I didn’t say no to him,” I blurt out.

  The angel’s grip on my shoulder tightens. Reggie frowns. “I don’t believe you. Are you just saying this because you’re worried about me kicking his ass?”

  The angel then does something very unangelic—he snickers and jokes, “I’d like to see you try, Jones.”

  My brother jumps to his feet. “That is it!”

  “No! Stop, both of you!” I yell.

  My brother cracks his knuckles again. “Look away, Tachell. This isn’t something a lady should see.”

  “Then it isn’t something a gentleman should do,” I shoot back.

  My brother shuts his eyes and dramatically pauses. “Sometimes, to protect a woman’s honor, you have to sacrifice your own.”

  Wow.

  Yeah, for a full two seconds, the room goes silent. Was this person actually related to me? Was the angel actually friends with him? Maudlin lines like that should only be uttered when accompanied by bagpipes, or whispered into the shadowy corners of dark, empty rooms. And do you know what? There were no bagpipes in the hospital, and every inch of white wall was humming with florescent light.

  I sigh. I have no idea what’s going on, but I’m pretty sure it was up to me to end this.

  Unfortunately, I don’t act fast enough, and the angel decides that the best way to diffuse this hostile situation is by saying: “Calm your tits, Reggie.”

  Oh God.

  Calm your tits?

  Is that even a thing you say to people?

  Is that a thing you say to men????

  I think that was just about the worst thing he could have said, and I’m vindicated when my brother gives a battle cry and charges across the room, slamming the angel against the wall.