Page 56 of Beautiful Storm

My seatbelt flings back as my gaze snaps to Luke, waiting for him to burst out laughing. One, two, three seconds pass and he doesn’t so much as smile, making me panic. “I… You… Tell me you’re joking.”

“Nope.”

“Nope?”

“I’m not joking.”

What in the world?I take a deep breath as he stares at me in challenge, and while my instincts scream at me to tell him to fuck off, there’s a small part of me that needs to know his thoughts, otherwise it will drive me crazy thinking about it.

“Okay. I’ll hear you out. Why?”

Luke smiles but it’s not his usual cocky grin, and my insides churn because of it. I glance away, uncomfortable, and lock eyes on the photos in my lap. Our baby. My heart clenches as a small smile pulls at my lips.

I’d walked out of the ultrasound with my mind blown, my heart full, and these photos in my hand. Photos I could have spent hours gazing at no matter how hard it was to believe there was a tiny human growing inside me. After the initial awe, I couldn’t shut up with my reactions, gasping, oohing, and aahing any chance I got. Luke, on the other hand, hadn’t said a word since the heartbeat, leading me to imagine so many crazy theories in my mind—he was freaked-out, he changed his mind, we broke him. But no, he had other things rolling around in his head.

A goddamnmarriageproposal.

What?

He’s silent again as I clear my thoughts, and when I glance back his way, he’s staring at me.

“I need you to pay attention,” he says slowly, probably worried about startling me, and he should be. I’m ready to run away screaming.

Instead, I smile. “I’m all ears.”

“Good.” He nods. “That ultrasound wasn’t as bad as I thought it was going to be considering how run-down the building was.” He rolls his eyes as though it was awful, but rather than snapping at him, I let him continue. “And Jill was nice and all—maybe a little too bubbly—but the thing is, I’m not waiting another ten weeks to see our baby again. And I’m not leaving the delivery to chance based on whatever hospital we can get on your insurance. I want to know the doctor I’m trusting with my child. I want all the bells and whistles…and I want to be able toarrive at a building and not stress because it looks like it’s about to fall down.”

“Wow. Look at you and your firm grip on reality.”Sarcasm is better than anger, right? Because I’d much rather be angry.

“I’ve got the means, Amelia. I’m not going to pretend otherwise. I told you. Nothing but the best for my child.”

“Ourchild.”

“Nothing but the best forourchild.”

I’m not sure what to say next, but his calm and serious demeanor is freaking me out. He wants to get married? The guy that undoubtedly left a naked woman in his bed to meet me here…wants to marry me.

My mind whirs as he leans his shoulder against the backrest of his seat and he angles his body to face me, making sure I know he’s completely in this. Giving me his full attention. Telling me this conversation is important to him. His dark eyes bore into mine as he waits patiently, perhaps hoping I’m going to catch up with this thought process, while I’m still a long way behind.

“And you think that if we get married, we can use your insurance?” I ask slowly. That much I gathered, otherwise, this makes less sense.

“Yes,” he practically cheers as though it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “I’ve researched it. And while I may not be able to changeyourinsurance without waiting periods, I can change mine.”Jesus. He’s really thought this through. Here I was thinking he was randomly throwing the idea out there. “If we do it now,” he continues, “we can have the full gold class service before you’re halfway.”

Gold class service?God, as nice as whatever that is sounds, he’s crazy. We can’t get married.

“I’ve survived perfectly fine without riches and so have you. I’d never let anything happen to our baby regardless of money. This isn’t a good idea.”

“Why?”

“So. Many. Reasons.” But let’s skip the obvious ones—how much we can’t stand each other—and instead go with the most important. “For one, I’m not breaking the law.”

Luke’s brows furrow. “Who’s breaking the law?”

“We would be. You know…by pretending to be married.” I whisper the last part in case someone overhears us, making Luke chuckle.

He leans in conspiratorially. “Again. Who’s pretending? For it to work, we’dactuallyhave to be married,Joy.” He throws out my nickname as though I’m ruining his fun and he’s right. I’m not going to make this easy. I can’t. “We’d make it official,” he adds. “That’s not breaking the law.”

He doesn’t get it. “It would still be fake. Marriages are supposed to be about love, and surely this isn’t new information for you when I say there is no love here.”

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