Justified

“I’m fine,” she says sleepily, laying her head in the crook of her arm. “It will pass.”

“It’s no longer your choice. I’m taking you.” I pick her up, carry her to the sink, and help her brush her teeth before helping her get dressed, all while listening to her complain the entire time that she doesn’t want to go to the doctor, but I still call and make her appointment.

“You’re overreacting,” Chloe repeats for the twentieth time since we arrived at the doctor’s office.

I look at her and shake my head. “The doctor will tell me if I’m overreacting or not, and I don’t believe I am.”

“We should make a bet.” She laughs when I look at her and narrow my eyes. “If the doctor says there is nothing wrong and I’ve just got a bug, like I told you I do, you have to be my slave for twenty-four hours.”

“And if I win?”

“I’m at your disposal.” She smirks, and I chew the inside of my cheek like I’m debating agreeing to her terms.

“Are you not always at my disposal?” I grin, crowding her against the table.

“I could say no if I wanted to,” she breathes as I kiss down the side of her neck to the top of her shirt, imagining having my way with her right now.

“You could say no,” I agree, “but you won’t.” I growl, nipping her skin, and I laugh when she moans my name.

“Can’t you just play along?” she huffs, glaring at me when she realizes I’m laughing.

“Fine. If there is nothing wrong, I will do whatever you want. But if I’m right, you have to do whatever I say tonight.”

“Deal.” She smiles and sticks out her hand, and I give her a shake while laughing at how cute she is.

“You really are feeling better, aren’t you?” I question when she begins to laugh.

“I told you I was. I don’t know why it happens. I just feel sick sometimes.”

“I think you should take a pregnancy test, Angel.”

“I already told you I started my period.” She frowns.

“Hello,” the doctor says, walking into the room, ending the conversation between the two of us.

“How old are you?” I demand; the guy barely looks legal.

“Nolan,” Chloe hisses, elbowing me in the ribs.

“The guy hardly looks old enough to drink, let alone practice medicine,” I tell her, looking at the doctor, waiting for him to reply.

“I’m actually thirty,” he says, smiling at Chloe.

“See? He’s old. Now, can we please just get on with this?” Chloe prompts, and the doctor’s face falls at the word ‘old,’ almost making me laugh.

“What seems to be the problem?” he asks, clearing his throat.

“She’s been waking up sick,” I tell him.

He looks at me then back to Chloe. “Are you pregnant?”

“No! Sheesh.” She rolls her eyes.

“Are you sure?” he asks.

“I started my period. So, yes, I’m sure.”

“How about we just test you, just in case.”

“Fine,” she growls.

After snatching the cup he pulled out of the drawer from his hand, she leaves the room, slamming the door. That would be another reason I want to find out if she is pregnant. The past few days, it hasn’t taken much to set her off.

“I’ll be back with the results,” the doctor mutters as he leaves the room.

It only takes five minutes after Chloe gets back for the doctor to step into the room with a piece of paper.

“You’re pregnant,” the doctor says, walking over to his rolling chair to take a seat, and I freeze in place.

“That’s impossible.” Chloe looks from the doctor to me. My mouth opens and closes, but not words come out. “Maybe you were right. Maybe he’s too immature.”

“I did two separate tests to confirm it, and we can do a blood test if that’s what you like, but the results will be the same. You’re pregnant,” he growls then looks at Chloe, who I have pulled into my lap. “A lot of women think they are having their period, but really, they are having what’s called implantation bleeding.”

“We’re pregnant,” she says, and I feel her smooth hand on the side of my face. “We’re pregnant,” she repeats.

My eyes close. I finally have everything I could ever ask for.

“We need to get married,” I state.

“We are getting married.”

“No, I mean we need to get married now.” I pause, kissing her lips. “Today.”

“Do you want to go to Vegas?” she jokes, but I think that sounds like the perfect idea.

“We’ll leave tonight. Mom can plan some kind of party when we get home.”

“Nolan, slow down.”

“No, we’re getting married. I agreed with you before because you wanted to plan the wedding with our mothers, but this is no longer only about you. Now, we have our child growing inside you. Your mother and my mother will just have to get together and plan a party or some shit.”

“Plan a party?” she whispers, looking at me like I’ve lost my mind.

I ignore her and pull out my phone, sending a message to Ricket that tells him to bring the car around. Once we’re out of the office with an appointment for a few weeks later and a prescription for prenatal vitamins, we head out of the building.

“Sir, madam,” Ricket says.

Chloe rolls her eyes, making Ricket’s mouth twitch. She keeps asking him not to call her that, and I believe that, normally, he would stop, but he enjoys ruffling my angel’s feathers.

“Ricket, we need to go to the airport. Just call ahead and have the plane readied to leave within the hour for Vegas.”

“We’re not even going home for clothes?” Chloe asks.

“You can buy clothes in Vegas.”

“This is ridiculous.”

“This is what I should have done weeks ago. Hell, I should have just taken you to Vegas the first night I met you and married your ass,” I say, following her into the back of the car.

“Nolan, you’re being crazy.”

“Beautiful”—I pull her into my lap and grab her face—“this is not up for debate.”

“So we’re going to Vegas and getting married without anyone to witness it? Do you have any idea how mad our mothers are going to be?”

“We’re not going to argue about this. We’re going to Vegas,” I tell her.