Knocked Up by the C.E.O (Knocked Up)

“Not again?” I ask him. He’s sitting in the chair beside the windows and built-in electric fireplace.

“No, but if you think we’re not going to the doctor today, you’re wrong, sweetheart.” I was praying he’d leave well enough alone. I’m not even feeling that bad right now.

“Why? I haven’t gotten sick since yesterday afternoon. Things have settled.” Nine times out of ten, I fall asleep with my bare skin against his. Last night was the exception. We were both exhausted by the time Wesley did damage control and I fielded emails, phone calls, and employees that seem to have zero manners. I’m wearing one of his old Stanford college shirts; it reaches the tops of my thighs, and I know if I stripped out of it, I’d waylay this talk about doctors.

“I know that. It doesn’t mean nothing serious is going on. If you’re not going to take care of yourself, I will.” He prowls towards me, already dressed for the day in a pair of jeans and a black shirt.

“I only got sick a few times, though, but if it will help you rest easy, we’ll go to the doctor,” I relent when his arms go around my waist, bringing me into his warmth.

“That’s good, because the doctor will be here in about ten minutes,” he states.

“Mr. Overbearing is here to stay, I see.” He knows all about my mister euphemisms too. It’s kind of hard not to with the way I sometimes toss them around when we’re in a heated discussion at work or at home.

“You got that right, and I’ll be this way until my dying breath if it means protecting you.” He kisses my forehead. I let out a sigh. Wesley isn’t wrong. This is who he is, and there’s no changing him. Not that trying would do a bit of difference. My independence streak and smart mouth are what he was first attracted to, well, besides the way I filled out a pencil skirt. Wesley’s words, of course.

“Fine, I swear you’re the king of telling me everything last minute. Can you make me coffee while I brush my teeth and get dressed?” I ask him, hugging him closer and breathing in his scent.

“Yes, but don’t take too long. The faster we know what’s going on, the less I’ll worry.” He swats my ass and then walks out of the master bedroom. I should be getting ready for the doctor, but instead, I make the bed, placing the plethora of decorative pillows on it, a blanket at the end, making sure it’s nice and fluffy. Only then do I head into the bathroom, take care of business, and get dressed for the day. At least once this doctor business is over, maybe Wes and I can relax on the balcony, order in, and I can read a magazine while he reads the newspaper.

“Hey, sweetheart, no matter what the doctor says, know this, and let it soak in. I love you. It’s you and me against the world, okay?” Wes sneaks his head into the walk-in closet. I’m clad in only a bra and pair of panties—lace, just how he likes it, this one emerald green in color.

“And I love you. I’m going to be okay, you realize that, right?” I ask him but continue getting dressed, or the doctor will be here and Wes will have me against the wall.

“I know that too.” I nod my head. He takes my hand once I’m dressed, and we walk out to the living room to wait for the doctor.

Eighteen

Wesley

“Holy shit, we’re going to be parents,” Dylan breathes out. I guess that’s what happens when you screw like bunnies and on every surface.

“We are. Are you happy?” I ask her.

“I am so happy. Are you?” My hand gathers up her shirt, my palm moving to her lower abdomen.

“Best day of my life was walking into the office and you spitting fire at me, not putting up with my shit, going the extra mile. When you finally gave into temptation, I knew you’d be mine forever, sweetheart. This little nugget, it’s the icing on the cake.” I get down on my knees, kissing her lower abdomen. “Listen here, little one, learn now that your mom will always be right, no matter what. Well, unless it’s about her health, then all bets are off. She’s got a head for numbers, has no problem giving as good as she gets, and will love you with her whole heart.” I stand up, my palm replacing my lips.

“God, you’re going to make me cry, Wes. And I know that you’ll be the best father you absolutely could ever be. I can’t wait to see you holding him or her in your arms, watching you bond with our child.” Water leaks from her eyes, and my mouth seeks hers. There’s nothing left to say. The only thing I care about is this woman in my arms, the life we’ve created. Money is replaceable. Hell, since I met Dylan, I’m not running from one city to the other. The constant need to take over another failing company ended when I found my home with Dylan.