“Where have you been?” Gracie looks suspicious when I come in from the garden.
“Just fixing up a few things.” I shrug, kicking my boots off by the patio doors and stepping inside. “How are you feeling?” I check, for the fifth time today. According to my calculations, she should be due her period any day now.
“I feel fine, just nervous,” she admits, doing that cute, twisty thing she does with her fingers whenever she’s unsure about something.
“Well, it’s a little late to be nervous; our little one is probably already getting settled in there.” I place my hand on her flat stomach and smile at the thought.
“Yourlittle one.” She forces my hand away, and I shouldn’t be surprised by that familiar sting that follows her words; I’m long past denying that I’m developing feelings for the girl. What I have to focus on is finding a way to convince her to stay. “And I told you about doing that, the staff might see.” She looks around cautiously.
“So what if they do?” I laugh at her.
“It’s just best to keep these things quiet. You're acting as if I’m already pregnant and we won’t know for sure until after the wedding.”
“Youarealready pregnant, and there's no way I’m waiting till after the wedding for confirmation of it. The wedding’s still a whole week away.”
“Jack, how many couples do you actually think get lucky on their first try? You shouldn’t be pinning your hopes on this happening so fast.” She fiddles with her hands again.Adorable.
“We could settle this and take a test now. I have a whole bunch of them upstairs,” I suggest, resting my shoulder on the door frame and crossing my legs.
“Jack, I’m not even late yet, and I feel no different to how I usually do.” She shakes her head and starts pacing the floor again.
“Is that what you're nervous about,notbeing pregnant?” I try to hide my amused smile.
“What? No—” Her response is far too defensive to believe. “I’m nervous about standing in front of hundreds of people next week and pretending to marry you.” She growls under her breath, stepping closer with a crazed look in her eye.
“Relax, all this stress isn’t good for the baby,” I remind her, pressing one palm back to her stomach and taking her cheek in the other. “And you aren’t pretending, we really are getting married. Does that put your mind at rest?” I smile sarcastically, and instead of slapping me like I expect her to, her face turns curious.
“You smell different.” She starts to sniff at my body, then takes my hand and places my fingertips under her nose. “You smell like herbs. What have you been doing out there?” She looks down at the mud on my jeans and the freshly ripped hole in my t-shirt.
“I told you, just fixing some stuff.” I wipe my hands on my jeans and check the smell of them myself.
“I thought you had staff for that?” She looks confused.
“I do, but there are some things I want to do myself. Come on, you have your final fitting with Pandora, she’ll be here any minute.” Taking her hand, I drag her through the house.
“Where are we going?” She starts tugging back.
“To take one of those tests. I need to fucking know,” I explain, and she brings us both to a halt before I reach the stairs.
“No, Jack, I can’t. It’s all too much. Can we please just get the wedding out the way first? I need to deal with one thing at a time.” I hate how scared she’s looking. I’ve noticed how she’s been off the past few days, being all jumpy and acting suspicious. I’ve been optimistic and put it down to her hormones changing, now I’m hoping that she’s not having second thoughts.
“What’s wrong, Gracie girl?” I ask, taking a seat on the stairs and patting the step beside me.
“Nothing’s wrong, I’m just overwhelmed.” She tries so hard not to show any more weakness.
“You can’t lie to me. Something’s up, and I want to know what it is.” I rest my elbows back on the step behind me.
“Why? Can’t I just be having a bad day?” She tries playing it down again.
“Never when there's a chance you're carrying my child,” I whisper in her ear.
“Jack, I’ve told yo–”
“If I don’t know what the problem is, I can’t fix it,” I interrupt her before she tells me not to get my hopes up,again.
“For God's sake, Jack. You can’t fix this, no one can!” she yells, getting more and more irate.
“My mum always used to tell me that there's no problem that can’t be fixed.”
