Page 19

19

THORN

“Are you feeling okay?”

Wilder leaned against the bathroom door while I showered.

“Yeah, why wouldn’t I be?” I turned off the water, and my mate handed me a towel.

“You didn’t eat much when everyone was here, and you didn’t touch the beer Frank gave you.”

“I just wasn’t feeling hungry.” My appetite had decreased recently, and I put that down to late nights, meeting new shifters, and running a business that was just getting off the ground. “And I was busy entertaining the guests so I forgot about my drink.”

That was true, but if I’d really wanted the beer, I would have guzzled it.

“Okay.” Wilder smacked my wet butt as I strolled into the bedroom. I stopped, as I always did, to gaze at the view over the lake and to the mountains beyond.

But my mate stared at me as I took out clothes from the closet.

“I don’t mean to harp on the issue but have you lost weight?”

I pulled on my briefs and jeans, thankful I no longer had to dress in a suit and tie for work. He was dwelling on it, and I was irritated. I felt fine, just a little more tired than usual, and that was expected with all the changes in my life.

“Not that I’ve noticed.” But as I said that, I zipped up my jeans, and yeah, there was a lot of extra space. The pants hung lower because they’d either stretched or Wilder was right and I’d lost weight.

I pushed past him, anxious to end this conversation, and headed into the kitchen. I stuffed a day-old danish in my mouth, to prove to my mate I was eating, and started the coffee. But I really wasn’t hungry and chewing the pastry and swallowing was difficult, and I hoped Wilder didn’t take note of how long I took to eat it.

The coffee aroma that I loved was making my belly churn, but I had my back to Wilder so he couldn’t see me grimacing. I anticipated that first cup of coffee each day and usually drank it on the deck, no matter how cold it was.

I had to keep up the pretense or my mate would haul me off to the doctor, and I didn’t want to hear that I had a tummy bug or I was low on iron or I needed more sleep.

“Here you go.” I handed Wilder his coffee in his favorite mug and took mine out on the deck. Don’t follow me, please don’t follow me, I said to myself.

He didn’t at first, and I leaned against the railing, breathing in the fresh air, tinged with the scent of spring blossoms. But I rested the coffee on the top railing, unable to drink it. If Wilder took a shower I could tip it out, though his enhanced shifter scenting ability might pick up a coffee aroma on the shrubs below the deck.

He appeared at my shoulder, downing his brew as he usually did. He’d usually have three cups in the early morning and go cold turkey the rest of the day.

“Beautiful day.” He was staring at the scenery, not at me and my full mug or how I was gripping the railing. The world was a little lopsided, or perhaps it was me. I was lightheaded and would have preferred to go back to bed. But there was too much work, and I had to plow through the day.

I tensed, waiting for Wilder to ask why I wasn’t drinking the coffee. But he continued to sip his and study whatever was in front of him. I couldn’t stand it anymore, and I dumped the lukewarm liquid into the garden.

“Fine. I don’t feel great, but it’s nothing, okay, so don’t say anything.” I stormed inside, furious with my mate for not saying anything. Gods, what was wrong with me?

I slammed the mug on the kitchen counter and put both hands on the granite countertop. Leaning forward with my head between my arms, tears trickled over my cheeks and one plopped on the floor.

Wilder padded over the tiles in that quiet shifter way of his and put a hand on my back. “You’ve been working hard and need a day off.” He steered me toward the bedroom. “Back to bed with you.”

“I’m sorry I snapped.” He took me in his arms, and I rested my head on his chest, enjoying the reassuring pounding of his heart.

“No need to apologize. I can take being shouted at.”

A giggle burst out of me, and my mate joined in. The laughter washed away my anger, but I was exhausted and didn’t grumble when he tucked me into bed. He sat beside me, saying he’d get me some tea instead of the coffee.

“Would you be able to eat toast?”

I nodded.

He disappeared and was back with a tray five minutes later. Again he sat on the bed while I nibbled the toast.

“Gerald noticed you weren’t well.”

“How would he know?” It was the first time we’d met.

Wilder cleared his throat and hesitated. My belly clenched, thinking the guy was a cancer specialist and had decided I was going to die.

“He’s a midwife.”

Oh. That wasn’t bad, though he was a qualified nurse, so it was almost as bad as a doctor diagnosing me at a social gathering.

“Did he suggest I have some tests?” I gripped the tea cup and was unable to swallow the mouthful of toast I was chewing.

“Not unless you want to. Humans do need the evidence a test gives them.”

Now I was convinced I was dying. “Just tell me what’s wrong with me.” Cancer research had advanced since my father died from that insidious disease.

“He scented that you were or might be pregnant.”

“Pregnant?” My knee jostled the tea in the cup, but Wilder grabbed it and saved the bedding. “Pregnant?” I repeated. I couldn’t be pregnant because I had too much to do. The lodge was our current baby, and adding a human baby to our family would overwhelm me.

“Yes. He might be wrong, but he rarely is.”

I sat with the knowledge of me having a little one inside me and cupped my flat belly. A baby, one Wilder and I had made. Tears pricked at my eyes, not because me possibly being pregnant was an inconvenience, but because I was already in love with our child.

“Was he certain?” But as soon as the words left my mouth, I knew. I was. “I am.”

Wilder removed the tray and got into bed with me. “It isn’t exactly what we planned, and I know how you love a plan.”

Perhaps I’d have to change my habit because I suspected with a baby on the way, there would be no plan.

“It’s fine.” We’d talked about a family but decided to put it off until the business was established, but life had other ideas. “I can’t wait to meet our little one.”

“Me too.”

Uncle had never had children, so the house would need to be baby-proofed, but that was for later. Today we lay together, talking about becoming a family and whether the baby would be a shifter.

“So there’s no need to get a test from the pharmacy?”

“Nah.”

I had to let Dad know. He’d spoken to Wilder during my weekly calls, but he wasn’t aware how serious our relationship was. He deserved to hear the news today, but I needed a nap first. Wilder had to work, and we should both be there when I announced the pregnancy.

And when I did tell him, his silence and gaping mouth told me he wasn’t expecting a pregnancy announcement.

“You need to come and visit, Dad. We’ll give you the best cabin, and you can meet all the people who were Uncle’s friends.”

“Okay.” He sounded less than enthusiastic about being surrounded by people who loved my uncle. But when he came, I’d explain why my godfather had lived under the assumed name.

“Can’t believe I’m going to be a grandfather,” he said just before we finished the call.

“Now I have to tell my entire cougar family.” Wilder’s loved ones included blood relations and found family, and while there weren’t a lot of cougars, there were plenty of other shifters. He was on the phone for ages before getting back into bed.

“Our baby is going to grow up surrounded by loving family and friends,” he said when he was finished.

“I’m so glad.” When I’d first arrived in Cougar Lake, I was saddened thinking of my uncle without his family. But he had found family instead, though it was a shame his blood relatives didn’t understand why he’d distanced himself from them.

“What do you think about naming the baby after Father and Uncle if our little one is a boy?”

“That’s a great idea,” Wilder responded. “But now we have to come up with a girl’s name.”