Call Me Crazy (Bellamy Creek #3) - Melanie Harlow Page 0,107
sign that we’d better stick together.”
“Damn right. After all, I need to pass that on to future generations of Morettis. Even if I don’t pass it through DNA, it can still be taught.”
“I have no doubt our boys will inherit the smolder.”
“And our girls will inherit the moxie. It’s what made me fall in love with you.”
A few minutes later, we were snuggled up just like we used to, my head on his chest, his arms wrapped around me.
“Did you mean what you said?” I asked softly, brushing my fingertips across his chest. “About adoption?”
“Of course I did.”
I tried to cuddle even closer. “I haven’t made up my mind yet about trying again with Clomid. I’m taking a little break.”
“Good,” he said. “You deserve some time to breathe. And whatever you decide—Clomid, turkey baster, adoption, kidnapping—I’m with you. We’re a family, no matter what, remember?”
“I remember.”
He kissed the top of my head. “Night, Lucy.”
I smiled. “Night, Ricky.”
Twenty-One
SIX MONTHS LATER
Enzo
“I’m sorry, what did you say?” I stared at the ultrasound tech, certain I’d misheard her.
She smiled, keeping her eyes on the screen. “There are two heartbeats here.”
“Oh my God,” whispered Bianca, squeezing my hand.
“What do you mean, two heartbeats? Why would the baby have two heartbeats?”
The tech laughed gently, glancing at me. “There are two babies.”
“But we only ordered one,” I said, my voice cracking.
“It happens,” said the tech. “See?” She gestured to the screen, where I saw what looked like two black balloons nestled in a sea of gray. Inside each balloon was a kidney-bean-shaped blob flickering in the center.
“Those flickering things,” I said, my throat tight and scratchy. “Those are hearts?”
“They sure are, Dad.”
My jaw dropped and I looked over at Bianca. Behind the lenses of her glasses, her blue eyes were wide and unblinking. “Two,” I croaked.
“Two,” she said, looking as shocked as I felt.
For a moment, I felt slightly dizzy. Two?
But then a wave of pride crashed over me—TWO!
I stood up taller, puffing out my chest. “Well, damn,” I said. “Talk about overachieving.”
Bianca laughed. “Pretty sure it was the Clomid.”
“Even with Clomid, the chances of twins aren’t that high when conceived naturally,” the tech said. “I think it’s something like five to ten percent.”
“See?” I bent over and kissed her forehead. She’d been through so much over the last six months. In fact, we’d agreed that this cycle would be the last one trying to conceive without additional intervention. “You’re a rock star.”
She smiled up at me, making my heart pound even harder. I love you, she mouthed. To the tech, she said, “Does everything look okay?”
“Everything looks great,” she said.
Bianca’s eyes closed, and she breathed deeply, in and out. Tears leaked from both eyes. “Thank you,” she whispered.
My eyes were blurry too.
Later on that night, we lay in our big bed in our new bedroom at the Center Avenue house. Rolling onto my side, I put a hand on her smooth, soft belly. “I still can’t believe it. How on earth are two humans going to grow in there? It doesn’t seem like there’s enough room.”
She laughed. “Um, I’m going to get really big.”
“Like how big?” I propped my head on my hand.
“Massive. Like I could be wider than I am tall.”
I gasped in mock horror. “No.”
“Yes. Will you still love me?”
“Even more.” I flipped around and rested my head on her stomach.
She smiled at me, playing with my hair. “What are you doing?”
“I’m listening to them. It’s never too early to start eavesdropping on our kids.”
She laughed. “Hear anything good?”
“Shh.” I pretended to concentrate.
“Girls or boys?” she prodded.
“One of each.”
“Really?”
“Yes.”
“And what are their names?”
“Ricky and Lucy, of course.”
“Of course.” She grinned. “What are they up to?”
“They’re arguing. Ricky is taking up too much space. Lucy drew a line and told him not to cross it, but Ricky likes to provoke her.”
“Sounds about right.”
“Are you happy?” I asked her, my heart about to burst.
She nodded with shining eyes. “Are you?”
“More than I ever thought possible. And I know it’s just going to keep getting better.”
“I’m scared too.”
Immediately I sat up. “Why?”
She shrugged. “All of this . . . You, the house, the babies. It’s everything I’ve ever wanted. I’m scared of losing it.”
“Hey. Come here.” I lay down again and gathered her in close. “Nothing can take away what we’ve got.”
“But what if—”
“You talk too much. Have I ever told you that?”
“Probably.”
“And you’re always leaving your books in piles around the house, you constantly rearrange shit in the kitchen so I can’t find anything, you’re a