“Lyla,” he laughs.
“It’s true and if Dom is stupid enough to have anything to do with her, then there’s nothing you can do except struggle not to slap him upside the head,” I giggle.
“You’re on a r-r-roll.”
“I have some pent up frustration when it comes to her,” I admit. “Seriously, though, you survived. We have time and you’ll talk to Dom and be there for him, whatever is going on.”
“You’re right. We g-g-got a miracle and I’m n-n-not wasting a day of it.”
“It is a miracle. The doctor said the odds of finding a donor so close was next to impossible. I think he said something like only seven percent have O negative.”
“Yeah…” he breathes and now I am worried.
“Thomas, what’s on your mind? It’s churning so hard I can almost hear it.”
“I just k-k-keep re-p-p-p-playing something in m-m-my head,” he says and I see the frustration on his face. I reach up to soothe out his forehead and kiss him.
“Breathe,” I remind him. The doctors have talked to him about his stutter and he’s agreed to go back into the clinical trials. I made it clear to him that I didn’t care either way. His stutter doesn’t bother me in the least. It does bother him though. There’s no magical cure, but there are things he can do to try and lessen it. If that’s what he wants, then I’ll support him completely.
He kisses me. “I love you.”
“I love you, Thomas—with everything I am. Now, tell me what’s going on in that beautiful head of yours.”
“When I was shot, King grabbed my hand and said he’d been w-w-waiting to meet m-m-me. It doesn’t m-m-make sense.”
“Sweetheart, you were bleeding out. Maybe you didn’t understand what he was saying?”
“M-m-maybe.”
“You don’t look convinced,” I murmur with a semi-smile—mostly because Thomas looks really hot when he’s lost in thought. He also is probably the only man in the world who looks good in a hospital gown.
“I guess because I’m not.”
“What other possibility is there?” I ask, trying to get inside his head.
“What if I’m related to K-k-king in some way?”
“How would that be possible?” Now I’m as confused as Thomas is. I don’t see how that’s possible at all.
“Dad doesn’t know anything about his f-f-family. Maybe King is r-r-related to my father.”
I frown. It’s a little strange, but it could happen. “Well, if he is, then that’s a secret that I’m sure King will share with you when he’s ready, sweetheart. I don’t think you should worry about it right now, though.”
“Why’s that?”
“Because right now, you have your old lady in your arms.”
“Yeah, I n-noticed,” he says, and even tired, his eyes sparkle.
“Yeah, well, I want to fall asleep in your arms, listening to you breathing and know that you’re sleeping, too.”
“Babe…”
“The more you sleep and rest, the quicker you get to come home and Thomas, I really want you home with me.”
“My g-girl. S-s-so fucking sw-sw-sweet.”
I grin and snuggle back into him. I stay awake, listening to his heartbeat under my ear with his fingers combing through my hair. Only when his breathing evens out and I know he’s asleep do I let myself follow him. It’s the best I’ve slept since Thomas was shot and the dreams are all of him.
Chapter 46
Thomas
Three Weeks Later
“Thomas! Will you take this thing off me now?” she exclaims.
“P-p-patience, baby.”
“Easy for you to say,” she huffs, making me laugh.
I have a blindfold on her and made sure she can’t see anything. I carefully guide her up the steps to our new home and stop only when we get in the center of what will be a huge living area that’s open to the kitchen and dining room. It looks nothing like it will when it’s finished. In fact, it’s just barely under construction. The walls have been framed and the windows are in now. The roof is done, and it definitely looks like a home, though. I haven’t shown it to Lyla yet because I wanted to surprise her.
I slowly take off the blindfold, wanting to see her reaction.
“Open your eyes, b-b-baby.”
“Oh my gosh! Thomas! It looks like a real house!” she gasps.
“Babe,” I laugh. “It is a real house.”
“I know, but there are rooms now! Thomas! We have walls!”
“Yeah. I’m still thinking we m-may not have it done before Tamsin m-makes her appearance. I’m g-g-gonna have the c-c-contractor hire a second c-c-crew, but…”
I look down at her ever-growing stomach. Lyla’s miserable most of the time and I can’t blame her. I’m almost afraid she’s going to have twins and one is just hiding—not that I would mention that to her. She already says she’s fat and ugly and on that she’s totally wrong. She’s so fucking beautiful sometimes it hurts to look at her. I don’t know why she loves me, but I’m damn grateful she does.