When she was done, I helped her up and set her on the sink before giving her a glass of water to rinse her mouth. “I’m calling the doctor,” I informed her.
“No, don’t be silly,” she said. “I shouldn’t have had coffee and sugar on an empty stomach. I know better than that. I was just excited and not thinking clearly.”
What she said made sense, but I wasn’t sure I agreed. However, I let her have her way for the moment, choosing not to tell her that I was going to make an appointment as soon as the office opened. She went upstairs to shower, and when she returned, she didn’t look a whole lot better.
“Here.” I pushed a plate of pancakes slathered with butter and syrup—just the way she liked them—toward her with a fork and glass of orange juice. “Eat. Or we’re going to the doctor.”
Alyssa picked up her fork and took a bite, then gave me a fake, overly bright smile. “See? All better.”
I grunted in response and watched her closely while I fixed my own plate, but when she’d eaten every bite, I considered that maybe I’d been overreacting.
“Awesome breakfast,” she said as she hopped off her stool and took her dish to the sink.
“Put that down,” I told her firmly. “The dishes are my job.”
“But you cooked.”
I raised an eyebrow and stared at her.
She looked as if she might argue some more, but then she gave me that same fake smile and squeaked, “Okay. You win”—which made me very suspicious—“I’m going to do a little exploring.”
I watched her walk out of the room, and after a minute, I decided to go after her, but then my cell rang, and I saw Mac’s number.
“Prez.”
“It’s done. Fuckers tried to get out of town, but they were stupid as shit and bought bus tickets with their debit cards. They came out of hiding, and we took ’em from the station. Quietly. But I have to preserve our relationship with the sheriff, so…” He trailed off, and I filled in the blanks.
“You tell him where she is yet?”
“He’s in a training exercise until this afternoon. You’ve got until then to figure shit out.”
“Thanks. I owe you.”
“Yes, you do,” he agreed before hanging up.
I slipped my phone into my pocket and went in search of my girl. We had shit to work out before her father complicated everything. When I walked down the hall toward the front room, I heard the sound of vomiting and hurried to the bathroom by the front entry. Alyssa was bent over a toilet again, losing everything she’d eaten for breakfast. “Shit.” I grabbed a hand towel and wet it at the sink, then knelt behind her.
She’d twisted her hair up into a bun, so I laid the cool fabric on the back of her neck. When her stomach finally stopped heaving, she collapsed back against me, and I used the cloth to wipe the perspiration from her face before setting it across her forehead.
Rather than argue with her about the doctor, I took out my phone and hit Patch’s speed dial.
“I was just about to call you,” he said the moment he picked up. “Your girl’s dad—”
Whatever he wanted to tell me couldn’t be nearly as important as Alyssa’s health. “You need to get your ass over here. Something’s wrong with Alyssa.”
“I’ll be there in ten. What's happening?” he asked in a serious tone, going straight into medical mode.
“She’s sick. I don’t know—”
“It’s nothing,” Alyssa grumbled. “I must have eaten something that didn’t agree with me.”
“Bullshit,” I hissed.
“Tell me her symptoms,” Patch instructed.
“She’s been vomiting for a couple of days and not sleeping well.”
“I probably have the flu,” Alyssa snapped loud enough to make sure Patch heard her through the phone.
“I’ll let the doctor decide what’s wrong,” I grunted. “She always seems better after throwing up, but then she gets sick again.”
“After every meal?”
“No, it’s been pretty random.”
“Are you having sex?”
Alyssa snorted, but I wasn’t amused.
“Why the fuck are you asking about our sex life?”
“If you haven’t figured it out, then I have to wonder…you do know how babies are made, right?” Patch drawled.
“Of course, I know, asshole. I’ve been working on it since we got here.” It had occurred to me the first time Alyssa was sick, but it was too early, and she wasn’t just vomiting in the mornings. Maybe I’d been wrong…
“Then why are you freaking out about her being pregnant?”
I had one arm curled around Alyssa, and my hand drifted down to splay on her flat belly. “I didn’t think she would be sick this early. And she’s been having trouble a hell of a lot more than just in the—”
“How do you not know that morning sickness is different for every woman? There have been babies popping out all around us for years.”