The Monster (Boston Belles #3) - L.J. Shen Page 0,140

of place at the cheesy chapel, I let out a giggle.

“We couldn’t afford to wait.” I bit down on my lip. “My residency is starting in a couple of weeks, and I wouldn’t have time to plan my lunch breaks, let alone a wedding, not to mention—”

“I knocked her up.” Sam delivered the news flatly, no hint of emotions in his voice. I whipped my head toward him, shocked that he let our secret out and grateful that my parents weren’t in our vicinity anymore.

Sam kept his eyes on our friends, not me, while I very possibly blushed myself into an early grave inside my respectable white dress.

“Aisling wanted to wait until her residency was over, but my sperm had other ideas.”

“What do you mean?” Persy frowned, her hand moving in circles around her belly.

“Did the condom break?” Belle interfered, keeping it blunt. “Do you buy cheap-ass johnnies, Samuel? Or did you poke holes in it with a needle? I heard a rock star autobiography where something like that happened to him. Okay, fine, watched a movie.”

“Phew,” Hunter laughed, “for a second there I thought you started reading.”

“I’m sorry, isn’t the illiterate idiot convention next door?” Cillian inquired tersely. “I believe Samuel and Aisling are trying to break the news of a new pregnancy in the family.”

“Hell, bro,” Hunter snorted. “I’m just trying to take your mind off the fact that Brennan sexed our baby sister up.”

“Hunter!” Everyone shrieked in unison, other than Emmabelle, who laughed, enjoying herself, and Devon, who was too busy staring at Belle to care what everyone was saying.

“Anyway, no.” I shook my head. “I was on the pill and was very good about it. There’s always a very slight chance the pill won’t work. And I guess it happened to me.” I grinned, looking up at Sam while he pressed a proud kiss to my forehead.

Two months after Sam told Vasily Mikhailov he could have Brookline back, we went out to celebrate the fact I got accepted to a nearby hospital to begin my residency. It was my favorite Thai place, and even though we had a wonderful time, I went to bed feeling ill. When I woke up the next morning, I puked my guts out and figured something must have upset my stomach.

But then it happened the morning after.

And after.

And after.

“When’s the last time you had your period?” Sam had questioned when I closed in on a week of throwing up each morning and feeling miraculously better during the rest of the day. “Because we’ve been having sex every day for at least nine weeks in a row now.”

I’d scrunched my nose, thinking about it.

My cycles were pretty regular, and besides, I was on the pill.

“I can’t be pregnant,” I’d said finally.

“Can’t or don’t want to be?” Sam had raised an eyebrow.

“Both?” I’d winced, but deep down I knew there wouldn’t be one part of me that would be upset if I found out I was pregnant.

“I’ll go get us a pregnancy test right now.”

“Thank you.”

And here we were a week later, married in Vegas in front of our closest friends and family. I’d always imagined having a grand, fancy wedding, but as soon as I realized I was pregnant, I knew a massive wedding wasn’t what I wanted. It was simply what was expected of me. What I really wanted was to be married to the man of my dreams as soon as humanly possible.

The man who had given me a new ferret for my last birthday and didn’t even look surprised or put off by the fact I had named it Shelly, after my previous ferret.

Besides, as Sam had pointed out, he won our marriage in a card game. It was only fitting we would get married in the gambling capital of the world. The symmetry of the narrative pleased me.

Two monsters, promising their lives to one another in Sin City.

“I bet Sam managed to knock you up somehow when he realized the kind of wedding your parents wanted you to have would take half a century to plan.” Sailor laughed, side-eyeing her brother knowingly.

I looked up to my husband and noticed the sly smile on his face.

He couldn’t have.

He wouldn’t … would he?

Cocking my head slightly, I narrowed my eyes at him.

“Sam?” I asked.

My husband pressed a kiss to my mouth.

“I’m the fixer,” was all he said, keeping it at that.

I had never told anyone what the last thing Ms. B told me right after she demanded I stop visiting