Page 13 of Beneath His Vow (Knocked Up and Locked Down #1)

ELEVEN

CASEY

Another doctor’s office, another examination table. Lexi’s lying down, her shirt bunched up under her breasts to reveal the swell of her belly. She’s twenty weeks, her bump soft and round.

She should be happy. We’re about to see whether we’re having a boy or a girl, but her expression is lost.

She’s staring at the ceiling, like it holds all the answers and I’m a heart beat from losing my shit.

Since Lexi got written up, she’s withdrawn more and more. I don’t know how to bring her back and she’s too shut down for me to break through the walls she’s thrown up.

I suspect more is going on than she’s telling me, but every time I ask her she denies anything else has happened.

I’m scared.

My beautiful little wife is never quiet. She’s a fucking rocket, a hurricane with a sassy mouth.

I stroke her bump while we wait for the tech to get set up, bringing her attention to me. Lex smiles, but it’s brittle, like she’s not really here.

“You okay?” I ask her softly.

She nods. “Just nervous.”

The tech turns, the probe in her hand, stopping my reply.

“Okay, let’s see what baby’s doing in there.” She squirts gel onto Lexi’s belly, then presses the probe into her skin.

I hold my wife’s hand, leaning down to press a kiss into her hair. “Love you,” I murmur, sensing she needs to hear it.

She squeezes me, some of the tension draining out of her. “I love you too. So much.”

Fuck. When she says it like that it wrecks me.

Nobody ever loved me before Lexi. Nobody ever made my life feel worth something. So seeing her hurting fucking destroys me.

“Baby looks good,” the tech says. “Measuring right on track for twenty weeks. Do you want to know the sex?”

Lexi peers up at me, even though we already discussed this before we left the house.

But that little check, just to make sure I haven’t changed my mind, makes me love her even more than I already do. “Yeah,” I say. “We want to know.”

The tech turns the screen toward us. Between the grainy image, there’s a baby-shaped object filling the screen and my throat gets tight.

“That’s your baby. There’s the spine, and the head.”

I don’t blink. I don’t look away. I don’t breathe. Fuck. That little bean is our kid—growing inside the woman I love. It’s so fucking surreal. Even though I know she’s pregnant and I’ve seen the baby on screen before, this time it hits different.

“You okay?” Lexi asks me.

I nod, not sure I can speak.

The tech squints at the screen. “It looks like baby is a… girl.”

My heart spasms and stops. Lexi lets out a barely contained sob. “We’re having a daughter?”

The tech smiles. “Yeah. It can be hard to tell sometimes depending on the position but she’s not being shy. She’s a girl.”

A daughter… A little girl with Lexi’s eyes and sass. I can already see her running around our feet, giggling hysterically, curls bouncing around her face. I didn’t know I could love someone I’ve never met, but my chest fucking bleeds for this kid.

Our baby.

I don’t care that Lexi’s belly is covered in gel, or that the tech is still moving the probe around the lower part of her stomach. I lean down and I kiss over one of her stretch marks, so overwhelmed and in love with the woman who gave me this great gift.

My wife gives me a half smile, the same one she’s been giving me all week. It’s too practiced, too clean.

Too fake.

Her eyes won’t meet mine and I don’t know why.

The tech hands her a tissue, and I help her sit. Then I clean her bump. Her eyes don’t leave mine, and my chest cracks open at the look in her eyes.

Fuck.

The tech leaves the room and a moment later, the OB steps in. Dr. Holt is warm, but no-nonsense. She sits on the stool at the desk, clutching her file to her.

“Everything looks good with baby. Your bloodwork should come back in the next few days, but Lexi, I have one concern.”

I’ve been shot and stabbed and felt less fear than I do at those words.

Concern?

Concern about what?

“Is something wrong with me?” Her voice is so small that I want to shield her from whatever is about to be said.

“All of your observations were fine, apart from your weight. You’ve lost almost five pounds since your last appointment. Are you still experiencing morning sickness? Eating enough?”

I snap my gaze at her.

She’s lost weight?

I study every inch of my wife that I can see, trying to figure out how the fuck I missed that.

“No, I’m not having any sickness. A little nausea here and there, but not like it was in the first trimester. And I eat.”

“You pick,” I counter.

“I try,” she argues back.

The doc smiles gently. “We can look at supplementing your diet if you’re struggling. I want you back in two weeks time.”

Lexi nods and slips off the table. I steady her, my hands on her hips as she pulls her leggings over her swollen belly.

She’s quiet as we step out into the sunshine, but she slips her hand into mine as we walk to the truck.

Guilt slithers hot through my veins.

I should have noticed.

“I’m taking you for lunch before you go back to the office,” I say. No more skipping meals or picking at her food.

She needs to eat properly.

“I don’t want to be late back.”

My thumb swipe circles over her hand. “I don’t give a fuck if you’re late back. The doc said you need to eat so you’re eating.”

She blows out a breath. “She didn’t mean as soon as I left the building.”

I stop at the side of the truck, turning to face her. “What’s going on with you? You’ve been quiet, withdrawn. I ain’t stupid. I can see you’re struggling. I just don’t know why.”

She glances down, shrinking into herself in a way I don’t like. “I told you. It’s just work stress.”

I lift her chin, refusing to let her hide. Her eyes are shiny as she meets my gaze. “We just saw our baby, learned that we’re having a girl and you look like the world is ending. Just talk to me, Lex. Please.”

She flinches. “I’m sorry.” Her fingers rub her temple like she’s getting a headache. “I’m excited it’s a girl, Casey, I’m just tired.”

I kiss her, desperate to hold onto the pieces slipping through my fingers.

“Darlin’, you don’t need to be tired. If the job is too much, you leave the job. I don’t want you stressed while you’re pregnant. I sure as fuck don’t want you stressed to the point where you’re losing weight.”

“I’ll eat more. I promise. I’ll do better.”

“Babe, fuck that noise. You’re doin’ fuckin’ amazing. I didn’t mean it like that, but I can tell you’re carryin’ something. Let me hold it with you.”

She opens her mouth, then closes it, wincing. “You’re right. Work is taking too much out of me. I need to stop stressing so much.”

It’s weak, thin, but she’s not ready for me to push her, so I press a kiss into her hair, open the door for her, and secure her into the car, the belt sitting below her bump.

What the hell am I missing?

I take her to a small restaurant to eat and I watch every bite she takes, noticing how she nibbles, but doesn’t eat a substantial amount. She’s trying. That’s all I can ask for.

When I drop her off outside her building, I can see the tension radiating through her shoulders, even though she kisses me before she gets out.

Every step toward the building looks like she’s headed to the gallows.

As soon as she’s safely inside, I pull my phone out and dial Nitro.

The call connects after a moment.

“Prez?”

“I need you to look into something for me.” I give him everything. Her workplace, the names she’s mentioned—especially fucking James—and I tell him to dig deep.

Because something is going on with my wife, something more than just a write up at work, and I’m going to find out what the fuck it is.