sure?”
I don’t even say anything—I just walk to my bag, pull out the internal ultrasound pictures, and hand them to him.
“You’re pregnant,” he says, looking at the picture.
“I am.”
“How far along are you?”
“He thinks eleven weeks,” I say quietly, closely watching his face.
“Do you…” He stops to look at me and I see his Adam’s apple bob as he swallows. “Do you want to keep it?”
Shit. Through all of this, I haven’t even thought about not keeping him or her. I nod then bite my lip to keep from crying.
“Jesus, I don’t even know what to say about this,” he says, looking back down at the pictures.
“I don’t know either.”
“Will you be okay?” he asks, looking at me again.
“The doctor assured me that the baby and me should be fine.”
“You’re sure?”
“There are risks at my age, but he says they are minimal considering how healthy I am.”
His body relaxes and his hands pull me closer as he shoves his face into my neck. “I’m scared to death but happy as hell,” he says against my neck.
“Me too,” I say, pushing my fingers through his hair.
“I think it’s going to take a few days for this to sink in.”
I smile as he kisses my neck before he pulls away and puts his hands on either side of my face.
“You’re pregnant,” he says, and I nod. “With my baby.”
I smile and whisper, “Yes.”
“Wow.” He pulls my face towards his.
When I’m close enough, his lips press against mine. His tongue runs over my bottom lip and my mouth instinctively opens up under his. My hands fist into the front of his shirt so I can keep standing as his taste and the feel of his hands tangling into my hair cause my legs to go weak.
“You guys have a whole house. Do you have to do that in the middle of the kitchen?” Brandon says, breaking the moment.
Mike pulls his mouth from mine then smiles, looking over at Brandon. “Thought for sure that we would be on our own in a year. Looks like we have along ways to go until we have an empty house,” Mike says quietly.
“What?” Brandon asks, walking fully into the kitchen. I notice that he’s dressed in a nice sweeter and a pair of dark jeans that actually fit him.
“How do you feel about me marrying your mom?” Mike asks, and my stomach drops.
“What?” I whisper.
“I’m cool with it,” Brandon says with a shrug.
“Do me a favor and run out to my car. There’s a box in the glove box. Can you bring it to me?” Mike asks.
Brandon looks at me then Mike and heads towards the front door. I stand there, stunned, as Mike turns to face me.
“Give me one second, babe.”
I don’t say anything. I don’t breathe or even blink as he heads towards the direction where Brandon just left. It feels like an eternity for them to come back. When they come back around the corner, Mike is holding a small box in his hand and Brandon is behind him with a large smile on his face.
“How do you feel about marrying me?” Mike asks, pulling my hand towards him and slipping the perfectly simple diamond ring on my finger.
“I had no idea,” I stutter, looking at the ring on my finger. His laugh causes my head to come up and my eyes to meet his.
“I think that’s the point, Kitten,” he says softly as his hands come up to hold my face.
“You want to get married?” I ask him.
“Yes. I planned on asking you this weekend, but this seems like the perfect time to me,” he says. Then he looks over at Brandon before looking back at me. “So what do you say? Will you and Brandon both take my last name?”
“What?”
“You and Brandon are mine and I would like it if we we’re all Rouger’s.”
“I say yes,” Brandon says, coming over to put his arm around my shoulder.
“Oh my God,” I whisper, feeling a tear slide down my cheek.
“What do you say?” he asks again.
I tilt my head back to look at Brandon, who looks at me and nods, kissing the side of my head. “Yes,” I say through my tears when