he might think of me, how this might play out, or what would happen after this moment left my head as I raced to stand over the toilet.
My stomach coiled, then heaved so hard I couldn’t hold back. Fingers gently scraped my hair back from my hot, sticky neck, and Noah’s hand found my hip as my stomach lurched, and everything I’d eaten exited.
Miserable, trembling, and weak, his hand steadied me, and I could hear him speaking softly, even though I had no idea what he said.
As the pain in my stomach subsided, and nausea eased up, I waited to see if it was over.
“Well, damn, I guess I need to work on my cooking.” Despite the easy humor in his tone, I heard the worry there too.
I couldn’t hold back a sharp laugh because I had to find the humor in something.
“Are you pregnant?” His joking comment came right as my stomach tensed again. It would have been funny timing if throwing up didn’t make me feel so miserable. Still, he held on to me, offering comfort even as my insides purged.
Everything seemed to calm down again, and I took several deep breaths. The shaking ceased, and the sick, sweaty feeling passed.
I knew from experience that all it took was clearing my stomach, and I’d be fine until the next morning. Well, fine as far as throwing up. Whether or not I’d be fine when I faced Noah was a different story.
“I’m better.” I spit the last bit of sourness out before flushing away the evidence. “I need to brush my teeth.”
“Okay.” He backed off a few steps, but stood in the bathroom doorway, arms crossed, watching me as I put toothpaste on the brush while carefully avoiding his stare.
My upset stomach was gone, and the trembling stopped. I felt fine, but sooner or later, he would ask me what the heck was going on. I mean, everybody knows what morning sickness is, right? How could he not know at this point? Unless he really thought it was his cooking, but I doubted he did. After all, he finished the omelet, and he was fine.
If he asked if I was pregnant again, I’d blurt out, “Yes.”
As the minty flavor of toothpaste washed away every trace of bitterness in my mouth, I wished I could just say it now. Why was it so hard? How come it seemed like something stopped me every time I tried to tell him?
With a sparkling clean mouth, I rinsed the brush, turned off the water, and spun to meet his gaze.
Instead of judgment and anger in his features, I saw affection. Warmth. Worry. Compassion. Before I could say anything, he opened his arms, and without thinking, I rushed into them. My heart pounded as I wondered if he knew or was simply being Noah; kind, sweet, thoughtful, loving Noah. He hugged me tightly, and I squeezed my eyes closed and enjoyed being held while he gently played with my hair and pressed his lips to my forehead.
Chapter Seventeen
Noah
I’d never dreaded Saturday dinner at Mom’s before.
“Are you two gonna get married?” Quinn swooped into the kitchen behind me.
“Shut up, Quinn.” I continued peeling potatoes while he moved toward the sink with a colander of salad greens.
“It’s a fair question.” Ethan’s voice came from behind. “We should know if you’re going to elope.”
“I vote for Dave to take his spot when he’s too whipped to come out with us after work.” Quinn made a whip-cracking noise, and I flipped him off before getting back to the task at hand.
“Dave? I thought Paul would be a better fit.” Ethan sounded genuinely surprised.
“Great, guys, talk about me like I’m not here. I’m not getting married, and I’m not whipped. Clearly, if you pick someone to replace me, it’s Greg.” No contest, Greg would be the perfect stand-in for me at the table.
“Greg…” Both of my brothers said his name as if suddenly seeing the light while Bayden made a low sound that told us he wasn’t enjoying the conversation.
“What’s eating you, brother?” I asked Bayden.
“Not the same person eating you.” Quinn moved past me, shaking excess water from the colander on my head. He hurried off when I turned his way, knife in one hand, potato in the other.
He tilted his head, a goofy grin on his face. “You’re scarier with a potato, just so you know.”
“I could kill you with a potato,” I said before glancing at Bayden again. “Anybody know what’s up with him?” I asked