Hung (29 page)

"
K
atie
…" I venture.

"
Y
es
?" she asks, gradually opening one eye as though she's about to drop off to sleep. "What is it?"

"
Y
ou can slap
me any time you want, but can I ask you something?"

"
A
nything – you know that
," she says.

I
feel
like what I'm about to ask is so potentially relationship damaging, and quite frankly – so rude – that I need to warn her about it. If it was any other girl, I wouldn't bother – I've slept through dozens back home at Fort Bragg, but Katie's different. She's special, she's smart – and she deserves to know.

"
I
'm
serious about you slapping me," I say. "I need to ask you something, something serious – and I'm pretty sure you're not going to like it…"

"
W
ell
," she says, propping herself up on her elbows and staring at me as though I'm a blundering idiot for asking her these weird questions, "spit it out – the question isn't going to ask itself, is it?"

"
I
guess not
," I say, a red flush of embarrassment suffusing my face. "I need to know something – were you, you know…" I pause – completely unable to get the words out. I don't know how something so small as asking a question can be so difficult, when charging into battle is so easy… "With anyone while I was out in the field? I wouldn't blame you if you were or anything – I just want to know.”

K
atie studies
my face seriously for a few seconds, and the longer she stays silent, the longer I think that she is about to kick me out of her room. I begin to think that I've seriously screwed up. And honestly – I wouldn't blame her. What I'm asking is unforgivably rude, after all.

"
N
o
," she finally says.

N
o
!

"
R
eally
?" I ask, elated, my face suddenly filling with a broad smile. "That's incredible!"

K
atie raises
an eyebrow and stares at me, a haughty look on her face. "Are you saying you think I'm the kind of girl who sleeps around?"

O
h shit
, I've really gone and put my foot in it this time… Still – that's the best news I've ever heard!

"
N
o
, no," I say, raising my hand and babbling in my attempts to mollify my beautiful lover, "that's not what I think at all. It's just…"

"
I
t's just
…" she repeats, mimicking me and arching her eyebrow ever higher. "You better get explaining yourself soon, Mike, or we're going to have a problem…"

S
he hasn't got
up and bolted yet, but I feel at this rate it's only a matter of time. Still, my hand's still resting between her chest and her tummy, and I decide to use it to test my suspicion, dragging downwards and feeling the gentle rise in her tummy. It's almost imperceptible, and I think that the only reason I've even noticed it is due to my training with Delta Force. They've always trained us to pay attention to the smallest of details, and this is definitely one of those.

"
H
ave you noticed any
… changes recently?" I ask.

"
C
hanges
?" Katie asks, now just looking confused. "Stop talking in riddles, Mike – just be straight with me."

"
O
kay
, I will," I say, pausing. I feel a massive surge of pride swelling up inside me, something I never guessed I'd feel in a moment like this, and for a second, a little frog in my throat stops me from telling her the good news.

"
K
atie
… I think you're pregnant."

C
hapter Eleven - Katie

"
P
regnant
?" I say, my hand racing to my stomach. "You can't be serious? What makes you think that? Why?"

T
he questions rush
of my mouth faster than my brain can come up with new ones, and before long I realize that I'm babbling.

"
F
eel your breasts
," Mike says, gently squeezing my left. "They're definitely heavier than they were last time I bedded you, and you've got a glow about you – have done for at least two weeks now. I don't know how I didn't notice it until just now. I think I was blinded by my attraction for you. But I'm sure, Katie – I'm sure you're pregnant."

W
hat the hell
do you know about pregnancy?
I want to scream, but resist, trying to figure things out in my own brain before I descend into a gibbering wreck
.

"
I
t’s just the pizza
," I say plaintively. "I've been eating too much – that's all."

"
Y
ou could never eat too
much pizza to make me not attracted to you," Mike grins, "and besides – does pizza give you a radiant glow? I thought it just gave people acne. Hell, you're the nurse – if pizza makes people look this good, then let's go back to the states and start selling it as a health supplement!"

I
open
my mouth to spit back a sharp, biting retort, but close it after a few seconds as the logic of Mike's words begins to hit home, leaving me looking like a goldfish for a short period of time.

I
have been hungrier
than normal. And the nausea – I'm such an idiot, it can't be morning sickness, can it? What the hell kind of nurse misses their own pregnancy?

I
focus
my eyes on my naked body, desperate to get to the bottom of things one way or another. I bring my hands up to my breasts, cupping each one gently.
He's right,
I think
, they are bigger than normal. I did notice that… But how could I have been so stupid as to think that it was just eating too much pizza? How did I not think more about the fact that I’ve been feeling horrible in the mornings? How could I have just thought I was overworked and overstressed…

"
K
atie – you okay
?" Mike asks, concern in his voice. It sounds so sweet, so genuine that my heart can't help but melt, no matter the emotional turmoil coursing through me as I try and come to terms with the storm he's just unleashed.

"
O
kay
?" I croak. "You're asking me if I'm okay after telling me that I'm pregnant!"

"
I
t's a good thing
, isn't it?" he asks, looking slightly uncertain. "I thought you'd be happy?"

"
H
appy
?" I half say, half laugh back in surprise. "I haven't planned a baby – hell, I don't even really know I'm pregnant or not. What makes you think that I want to bring up a child right now? Hell, I'm living in a war zone!"

"
Y
eah
…" Mike drawls, his momentary lapse into indecision almost immediately disappearing, subsumed by his overpowering, alluring self-confidence, "but it's
my
baby, and you wouldn't be doing it alone…"

T
he meaning
behind his words doesn't hit home until a couple of seconds later. "You'd… You'd raise a child with me?" I ask, stunned by the suggestion. Hell, everything that's happened since Mike first mentioned he thought I was pregnant has left me reeling, and this is no different.

"
Y
ou think
I'd let you do it alone?" he asks, looking almost insulted at the suggestion. "You're the mother of my child, Katie – tell me you aren't – and it's my job to protect you, my job to keep you safe, my job to
love
you."

M
y stomach does
a backflip at the word, but I keep my face level, not wanting to crumble once. A child is a big commitment. No – it's a fucking
huge
commitment, and it's easy for Mike to say that he is interested now, but what about when it's more real…

"
M
ike
," I say, stumbling over my words because they're difficult to say, "why would you want to be with me?"

H
e suddenly fills
the room with a peal of laughter and slaps me gently on the shoulder as though I've told the funniest joke he's ever heard.

"
Y
ou're kidding me
, right?"

"
U
m
, no…" I say, still bemused by the turn this conversation’s taken.

"
K
atie – do
you think you have to
prove
yourself to me or something?" he asks, a barely disguised look of mirth on his face.

"
K
inda
…" I say, trailing off as I realize how much merriment this is causing him.

"
Y
ou're mad
! Katie, you saved my life. You nursed me back to health. You rescued my dog, you've been the best sex of my life,
and
now you're bearing my child – I couldn't be happier if I tried. Hell, if this is you
not
proving yourself, then I'd love to see what you could do if you tried!"

W
hen he puts
it like that, I can kind of see what he's getting at.

"
M
ike
," I say, "think about it – what kind of life do you think you're going to be able to give this kid if you're always jumping from deployment to deployment? Do you think I could stay with you when I don't know from week to week whether you will even be alive? What kind of life is that for our child?"

O
ur child
…

M
ike goes silent for a second
. "I'll leave," he says simply.

"
L
eave
, what, you mean – leave?" I say.

"
I
mean
it – I'll leave the army for you, Katie. I've done my time, hell – apparently I'm a goddamn American hero these days. If I ask my colonel to speed the papers through, he'll do it in a flash."

I
can tell
, just by looking at him, that he is serious. I have no doubt that if he was on a mission, he'd be harder to read than a professional poker player, but he doesn't hide anything from me – he's just an open book. And I can tell he's serious, truly serious, about settling down and raising a child with me.

"
I
f you want
to keep it, that is…" he finishes uncertainly.

I
fix him with an immediate
, serious, motherly stare, suddenly feeling maternal instincts that I'd never known existed. "Oh, if you think that I'm doing anything other than raising this child –"

I
stop
as soon as I notice that his face is filling with a smile. "Thank God!"

"
S
o you're
serious about raising a child with me?" I ask, knowing the answer, but wanting to hear it regardless. "You'll leave the army, come settle down with me – white picket fence, all of that. You won't be bored?"

H
e grabs
my hand with his left and squeezes it tightly, as though he's marking his territory. With his right, he sneaks it down my body and brushes my wet slit.

"
T
rust me
, Katie – when you're around," he grins, "I'm never bored."

C
hapter Twelve - Katie

F
ireworks
?

I
groan quietly
as my body stirs from its slumber. Judging from a quick glance around the room with eyes that are still heavily lidded with sleep, it's still dark out. Except that the fireworks are, intermittently, giving off flashes of a brilliant golden light.

B
ut fireworks
?

O
ut here in the desert
, fireworks aren't exactly the kind of thing I've come to expect people to be loosing into the sky. After all, on a heavily armed military base, people are far more likely to mistake them for bombs.

B
ombs
.

I
slap my forehead
. How can I be such an idiot sometimes? Of course the fizzing thumps and crackling pops that I can hear all around me aren't fireworks, they're explosives. And if someone's setting off explosives in what's supposed to be the most secure part of the country for hundreds of miles around me, then I'm as sure as I've ever been that this isn't a place I want to be hanging around. Especially not now that I know I’ve got another life inside of me. Mike’s child…