“Yes.” I rest my temple to his shoulder. “I didn’t know you knew how to dance.”
“This isn’t dancing; this is swaying. The moment they put on dance music, you’ll see my moves.”
“I can’t wait.” I laugh and close my eyes, swaying with him until it’s announced that dinner is being served.
We go back to the table. Thankfully, Bonnie keeps her hands to herself, and the rest of the dinner goes by without incident. After dinner, we spend most of the night on the dance floor, where Wesley proves that he’s not a liar. He can dance—and well.
Getting into the back of the cab a few hours later, I’m all danced out. I can’t stop smiling.
“Did you have a good night, gorgeous?” Wesley asks after shutting the door.
“Yes, and I learned something new about you,” I say as the cab pulls away from the curb and into traffic. “You are really good at dancing. If they ever have a Dancing with the Stars NYPD edition, I think you should try out.”
I yawn, and he laughs and kisses the top of my head.
“I’ll keep that in mind. Are you tired?”
“Very.” I yawn again. He wraps his arm around my shoulder, and I snuggle into his side.
Suddenly, the cab is jolted forward, and my body is tossed against the partition that separates us from the driver. My head and knees hit it hard. Wesley’s arm wraps around my waist, but a second impact comes, even worse than the first. He’s unable to keep me in his grasp as the car is jolted again. Glass rains down around us from my window as it shatters. Grabbing my head, I feel wetness on my fingertips.
“Are you okay?” His eyes scan me, and I nod my head.
“I think so. But . . .”
“Fuck.” He looks around, then settles me back against the seat. “Do not move.” He opens his door and gets out. My knees ache and my head is pounding, but with all that, my biggest concern right now is our baby.
Our baby that Wesley doesn’t know about.
“Wesley!” I call his name as he reaches into the backseat for me.
Helping me out, he looks me over once more, then inspects my forehead and the wound that is causing blood to run down my face and onto my chest and dress. Libby is going to kill me.
“Hold on, gorgeous. I want to get you safely across the street. Okay?” I shake my head no. “I promise it will be okay. I know you’re bleeding, but it’s just a small scrape. I promise, it’s small.” He picks me up and moves quickly through the cars that are now piled up in the middle of the road.
“Wesley . . .”
“Here you are.” He heads toward a bench at an empty bus stop, then helps me sit.
From my new vantage point, I can see the full scene of the accident. Two cars hit our cab—one in the back and one on the side. The yellow cab is not just wrecked, it’s totaled.
“Stay here. I’ll be right back. Don’t move. Just keep pressure on your head,” he says, taking off his jacket and wrapping it around my shoulders.
“Wesley!” I repeat once more as he puts his cell phone to his ear.
“I’ll be right back.” He kisses my forehead, then stands.
Completely frustrated with him, I shout, “I’m pregnant!”
Even being in the middle of a busy intersection with police sirens off in the distance blaring as they race toward us, and people who have stopped on the sidewalks to take in the accident—even with all that, I know that if I had a pin to drop, I would have heard it. It was like the air went still, and all the people froze just like in those superhero movies when everything stops, even the bullets in midair.
Then time returns to normal and chaos ensues.
“Get a fucking ambulance, and get it here right fucking now!” Wesley shouts to whomever he’s talking to on the phone; then he drops to his knees in front of me. “Are you okay? Are you hurting? Are you in any pain?”
“No pain, but what if the accident shook the baby loose?” I say, knowing rationally that that is ridiculous and impossible.
“I don’t think that’s possible, but when the ambulance gets here, I will have them check to make sure that didn’t happen.”
“Good.” I pull in a sharp breath when his large palm reaches under my coat and covers my stomach.
“You’re pregnant.” It’s not a question; I know he’s just asking me to confirm what I just told him.
“Yes.”
“With my baby . . . ,” he says.
I narrow my eyes on his. “That better be a joke, because if it’s not, I swear the moment I know I’m okay I’m going to kick your ass all over New York City.”
“Gorgeous, shut up and kiss me,” he demands.
So of course I do.
Chapter 11
OH, BABY, YOU’VE LOST YOUR MIND
WESLEY
Sitting in the hospital with my elbows on my knees and my head in my hands, I try to keep my shit together. Mackenzie is pregnant. She’s pregnant with our child, and I could have lost her and the baby tonight. The idea of going through my life without Mackenzie is completely unbearable. I’m in love with her. Fuck. I feel happy as hell and sick to my stomach at the same time.
“Are you okay?”
Lifting my head, I look at Mackenzie. She’s looking like she doesn’t have a care in the world as she sits on the top of the table reading one of the ripped-up magazines that got left behind in the room by someone. When the ambulance showed up on the scene, I made sure they saw to her first. The wound on her head was superficial, like I thought, but they still used butterfly tape to close it up. She will have a bruise for a few days. Her knees are also black and blue from where they hit the divider, but they weren’t causing her any kind of abnormal pain. They were most concerned with her losing the baby.
“Okay, mister. Snap out of it.” She taps my cheek before carefully draping herself across my lap. I didn’t even realize she had stood up.
“I’m all right.” I adjust her, then rest my hand over her flat stomach. The idea of it growing with our child is overwhelming and unbelievable. I can’t get my mind around the fact that I’m going to be a dad.
“You’re such a liar.” She sighs, resting her hand over mine on her stomach and dropping her head onto my shoulder. “We are not very good at being traditional, are we?”
Dipping my chin to see her face, I hate the worry I see there. “Have I told you today that I like you a lot?” I ask.
Her eyes meet mine, the worry slowly fading into something else that I like a lot more.
“No.” She shakes her head.
Cupping her cheek, I smooth my thumb over the soft surface. “Actually, I think I’m in love with you.”
“You do?” she whispers, searching my gaze.
“I do,” I say, watching her smile a beautiful smile before resuming her previous position. Frowning, I give her a gentle squeeze. “Do you?”
“Do I what?” she asks.
I can’t tell if she’s joking or not. “Do you love me, woman?”
“Miss Reed?” The door opens and the doctor comes into the room before she can answer my question. I throw the doctor a dirty look—not that she notices. She’s focused on the stack of papers in her hands. Easing Mackenzie off my lap, I help her back onto the table and stand next to her. “It’s nice to meet you two.” The doctor looks between us.
“You too.” Mackenzie gives her a warm smile.
I grunt my greeting, still annoyed that we were interrupted moments ago.
“Stop it.” Mackenzie hits my chest with the back of her hand, and the doctor looks between the two of us before continuing.
“Your blood test came back positive, so you are definitely pregnant.”
I reach forward and take Mackenzie’s hand when I see it start to shake.
“I also ordered an internal ultrasound so that we can just make sure that everything is okay. I don’t predict that there will be a problem since you haven’t had any bleeding or cramping. The baby should be okay,” she says.
I let out a breath I didn’t know I was holding. I knew that chances were that the baby was okay, but it’s a relief to hear that from the doctor.
“So the accident didn’t shake him loose?” Mackenzie says.