that Mikayla knew all eight of her husbands were okay, she managed to roll her eyes and ask what had happened.
They smiled at each other like kids left alone in a candy store. “Well, it was Bryce’s idea,” Lachlan began, but he quickly got to the point when he noticed Mikayla’s change in expression. Frustratingly, nausea gripped her once more. “Basically, we controlled the detonation. We modified the station’s shields to cover all except the small room that used to be Peter’s office.”
Bryce took over the story. “We also widened the coverage of the shields so that if the explosion was somehow bigger than Lachlan expected, the energy would be aimed away from the house.”
“I assure you, little one, that I wouldn’t have done it unless I was sure it was safe.”
She nodded and managed to say, “I believe you,” before turning away to retch several times. Before she could protest, Ryan lifted her into his arms and all of them hurried back into the house. Mikayla caught a glimpse of Tracey and Ashton in the kitchen with Ty and the still-unconscious Leila before seven husbands hurried her into her bedroom.
“I’m okay,” she managed to say to a group of men so concerned for her health that they seemed not to listen to her reassurance. “Truly, I’m okay.” In fact, she felt better than she had all day. The retching had been awful, but the nausea seemed to have gone completely now. When her men still hovered over her, she wanted to yell at them all for their overbearing attitudes until she realized the level of tension in the room.
All of her men had been frightened for her safety, and she finally realized that she needed to let them react—even if that meant letting them tell her what to do for a little while. She allowed Ryan to lay her down in the middle of the bed and tried not to react when Bryce and Lachlan lay down on either side and the others took up various positions around the room.
The distant sounds of emergency vehicles approaching eventually got them moving, but Bryce and Lachlan stayed by her side until the police finally entered the room to collect their statements. By the time the emergency services had finished traipsing mud into her house, Mikayla was nearly asleep. John’s strong arms wrapping around her and his whispered, “I love you,” were the last things she remembered.
She woke hours later, her stomach rolling once more. Trying to make it to the bathroom without waking her husbands proved futile, and by the time she had the retching under control, she was in Matt’s arms and the other seven were crowding the doorway.
Again, as soon as the retching passed, the nausea retreated. Matt glanced up at his brothers, reassured them that she was fine and then turned to her with a concerned smile. “How long have you been feeling like this?”
“Only since Bryce grabbed the bomb. I was fine before that.”
“Are you sure? You looked quite pale yesterday and the day before.”
“It’s been a long week,” she said with a shrug.
Matt glanced at the now closed door and lowered his mouth to her ear. “Is it possible you’re pregnant?” he asked in a very quiet voice.
Mikayla tried to swallow the sudden excitement and fear that the question evoked. It was possible, but it was also possible that the retching was simply her reaction to the fear she’d felt. She shrugged again, unwilling to get any of their hopes up.
Matt must’ve felt the same way because he moved to the cupboard and rummaged around the back for a moment before retrieving a small looking box. Without a word, he held his hand out for her. She put her hand in his, and he quickly sterilized the end of her finger and then pricked the tip with a tiny little needle attached to a strange little box. He watched the top of the box for a moment and then smiled.
He held it up for her to see, and Mikayla stared blankly at the digital number it showed. “You’re pregnant, honey,” he said with a grin. “This