Chaos series by Kristen Ashley (Page 85)

God!

That was beautiful too.

He wasn’t making this easy.

“Hop,” I took in a breath then told him, “That’s not it.”

His eyes moved over my face for a second. I knew he again registered my look so he invited gently, “Tell me what it is.”

“I don’t really want this moment spoiled but, I had the ring, the gown, the whole big thing planned with Elliott and—”

“Okay.”

I blinked.

“What?”

“Okay,” he repeated.

Was he giving in?

“You’re okay with us not being married?” I asked hesitantly.

“You gonna live the rest of your life with me?”

My heart warmed, my body softened under his, and I felt tears sting my eyes. “Absolutely.”

“You’re happy about our baby?”

Oh yes, but happy was an understatement.

“Over the moon,” I whispered, though I didn’t tell him then I wanted a boy.

A boy that looked like him.

His mouth went soft and he dropped his forehead to mine.

“Then okay, lady.”

He was giving in.

“Okay, Hop.”

“Now kiss me.”

I lifted my head and kissed him.

After some time, he broke the kiss, his lips moving over my cheek to my ear as he lifted his hand up, palm cupping my cheek, thumb dragging at my lips.

“She’s havin’ my baby,” he murmured in my ear and my arms, already around him, squeezed.

“Yeah.”

“Makes me happy, Lanie.”

“Good.”

“You make me happy, lady.”

A tear rolled out of my eye and my voice broke on my repeated, “Good.”

He lifted his head and looked down at me. “Have it all now, I made a baby outta love.”

He was killing me.

“Stop making me cry and kiss me.”

Hop grinned.

It was the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen.

Then he did as ordered.

* * *

The next morning, way too early, I found myself with a bed head in the clothes I picked up from the floor, and in Hop’s Ram on my way to get donuts with my man.

I had no idea why I had to go. If Hop wanted donuts, he was perfectly capable of going alone and he well knew by now my order and backups if they didn’t have what I wanted, seeing as every weekend when his kids were at his house, Saturday morning we had LaMar’s donuts.

I also had no idea why I had to get up so freaking early to go. It was Saturday and anyway, LaMar’s kept stocked all day every day, especially Saturday.

Hop was insistent so I hauled myself out of bed, got dressed and there we were.

I was groggily staring out the window, sipping at a travel mug of coffee Hop planted in my hand on the way out of his house, and I watched LaMar’s coming closer.

Then I blinked as we passed.

“You passed it, honey,” I informed him, looking over my shoulder and watching LaMar’s get smaller in the distance.

“Give me your hand,” he said. Unthinking, I gave him my hand and looked at him.

“Are you going to a different LaMar’s or did you find another bakery?” I asked, hoping he was going to a different LaMar’s. If he was going to drag me out of the house to try a different bakery, I feared we’d have words.

Things with Hop remained good, great, the best, but that didn’t mean we didn’t fight and LaMar’s was definitely worth fighting for. If it was that early and I was out in the world with bed head in clothes I’d worn the day before, I wasn’t taking chances on any old bakery.

“Got up early, went out, got donuts. They’re in the back,” he stated and I blinked again.

Then I heard the ratchet of a handcuff. My head jerked down and I saw the bracelet on me and watched as Hop steered with his knee while he ratcheted the other bracelet on his own wrist.

My head jerked back up and I cried, “What are you doing?”

“Kidnapping my woman, takin’ her to Vegas, and getting married.”

My mouth dropped open.

I snapped it shut to ask, “What?”

He glanced at me then back at the road. “Babe, learnin’.”

That didn’t answer my question. That didn’t even make sense!

“Hopper, what are you talking about? We can’t go to Vegas!”

“Yeah, we can.”

My eyes narrowed on him. “I thought you were okay with us not getting married.”

“Never said that.”

“Yes you did.”

“You asked, ‘You’re okay with us not being married?’ I asked, ‘You gonna live the rest of your life with me?’ You said, ‘Absolutely.’ Never said I was okay with it ’cause I’m not. So we’re gettin’ married in Vegas.”

I stared at him then yanked my wrist, shouting, “You’re crazy.”

“Headin’ drama off at the pass and doin’ it using drama,” he retorted.

“What?” I shrieked and got another glance.

“Babe, knew, I fought it out with you then, we’d hit a drama. I love your drama, you know it, but just found out you have my baby inside you, just put a ring on your finger which, by the way, you didn’t take off.”

I didn’t.

I still had it on.

Gah!

“Didn’t want to spoil the moment,” he continued. “You passed out after our baby celebration last night. While you were sleepin’, I decided to fight off drama with drama. Commence kidnapping which, over the next few hours, will go over state lines. Twice.”

“You still aren’t making sense, Hop.”

Suddenly, he pulled off the road, put the truck in neutral and turned his full attention to me.

“You got somethin’ twisted up there,” he pointed at my head, “about a wedding. You didn’t say shit about a marriage. You said we can’t get married, not be married.”

“You’re kidnapping me on a technicality?” I shouted and he grinned.

Then he used our hands cuffed together to pull me closer and went on.

“You talked about the dress, the rings, the plans. I get that. I get why. So no dress. No flowers. No big thing. We get hitched. We live our lives. I get you’d shy away from the big thing. I’m a man. I’m all about not havin’ a big thing. What you gotta get is, no baby of mine made of love is comin’ into this world with her momma not wearin’ my rings and carrying my name. It’s just not gonna happen, Lanie. What’s gonna happen is, we’re goin’ to Vegas, we’re getting married, we’re comin’ home, and you’re moving in.”