Page 29 of Rushing Her: Seattle, Westerners
“I got him a year ago when I decided to seriously make a play at getting back together with you. His name is Teal’C.”
I straighten from my bent position and stare Brayden down. “You named him after my favorite character inStar Gate SG1?”
“I did. It made it easier to wait until the perfect moment to be with you. I still watch those shows when I can.”
I saunter over to him and pull him in for a kiss. There’s a faint growl, and Teal’C is again next to me.
Brayden stares him down. “She’s mine, asshole.” Then proves it with a hungry kiss.
When we finally separate, he shows me around the house, and I instantly fall in love. Staying here full-time will be a pleasure, and I’m about to relay that when we begin walking through the closet that leads to the primary bathroom. I halt because there, on one wall, are all my clothes.
“Wait, when did you move my stuff in here?”
“While we were at the press conference. You said you’d move in with me.”
I can’t argue with him; I did say that I would, but I also didn’t expect him to move me in without having to pack or finalize things. A part of me is agitated that he made this decision for me, but another isn’t all that upset. That part is glad he took away the worry and stress of it.
In this moment, I opt to allow him control over some things, just not everything. I kiss him fiercely, then pull back and say, “Thank you, but don’t think you can get away with things like this all the time.”
“I understand. I thought it was better to ask for forgiveness than to ask permission.”
I point at him. “And that right there is what you need to work on. Please ask for permission from now on.”
“I’ll try.” He leans in for another kiss when the doorbell goes off. “That would be the police.”
I completely forgot we left the scene of an attack.
A couple of hours of interrogation later, the cops leave. We learned that Warner had been taken to the hospital, but she’s back now, and Brayden has set her up in the small mother-in-law apartment over the garage. She’ll have her own space but remain close by if I need her.
Chapter 13
Brayden
Sitting in the private room we were shown to immediately, I watch as Alexandra strips off her slim, navy skirt, and if you lifted the ruffle of her shirt, you’d see her little belly before she replaces them with a medical gown. We are at the twelve-week checkup for the babies, who are showing already, and even though she won’t admit it, I know she’s worried.
We were told that the woman who threw the acid at Warner was hired by the person we call Kimberly. It’s the name she used to register with Dr. Jarvis, but we found out the last name was fake. All her information, too. She’s still out there and has doubled down on her letters to me. She now refers to Alexandra as ‘the red-headed bitch’. I’m pissed that it’s taking so long to find her, but my worry is more for my family now.
Alexandra needs to remain calm for our children, which is why we arrived here in two different vehicles. I also have an appointment set up with a different doctor in the same building, in case anyone ever searches. I even came in through a back entrance of the clinic so that I could be with Alexandra for her appointment.
All the sneaking around is getting on my nerves.
This is the last week of the first trimester, which has been a hard one on Alexandra. There were days she would work from home because the nausea was so intense, but we never resorted to the medications.
The doctor walks into the room. “Hello, Alexandra and Brayden.”
I’m glad Alexandra stuck to her guns and didn’t let me change her physician. Dr. Grands has been extremely helpful and willing to work with our unique situations. She’s also been wonderful with Alexandra, which is crucial to me. Oh, and that she’s female, too. The thought of another man between my woman’s legs makes me want to shove a football up their ass.
Dr. Grands reviews all of Alexandra’s current symptoms, takes baby measurements, checks her internally, and then we go over the schedule. Our appointments will switch to bi-monthly for this next trimester.
Due to my travel schedule, our last visit was two weeks ago, and they determined that we have trichorionic triplets—each baby has their own placenta and amniotic sac. Proof that my girl had several eggs drop at one time when she was given the trigger shot by mistake.
I don’t regret how my babies came to be because it was done with love. I love Alexandra, and even though she hasn’t said the words, it’s clear she does. They will come soon enough, as will the marriage—she’s still holding out on that as well. I’ve asked her every week, but she just keeps saying it’s not time yet.
The doctor says, “Alexandra, you asked about when we’d be able to find out the sexes of the babies. I would like to wait until we do the anatomical survey ultrasound at eighteen weeks, just to be sure. All right?”, but Alex doesn’t acknowledge her.
I take my girl’s hand in mine and squeeze. She has been unusually quiet since we arrived, and now she’s trembling. I lookto the doctor and back to Alexandra, noticing that she’s become pale.
“Lexi, are you okay?” I ask just as her eyes roll back, and she collapses. I grab hold of her to keep her from falling.
