Eyes Wide Open (The Blackstone Affair #3)(47)
Author: Raine Miller

“Okay. I think I can do that for you.” I splayed out my left hand and looked at my ring again, the dark purple stone looking almost black in the dull morning light. “And I love you too.” It still shocked me a little seeing it there on my hand. I was engaged to Ethan, and we really were getting married. And I really was having his baby. When did the bottom drop out from beneath me? I had to keep telling myself this was not a dream.

“Do you really like the ring?” he asked softly. “I know you like antiques and that was so unusual I hoped you might like it instead of something modern.” He held my face to his and rubbed over my jaw with his thumb. “But if you want a different one, just say. I know it’s not a conventional engagement ring and I want you happy in all things.”

I clutched my left hand with my right one protectively. “I love my ring and you’re never getting it back,” I teased. “You know, in certain light it almost looks black sometimes. A black stone.” I smiled wide at him.

He smiled back at me as realization dawned. “Good?”

“Very good, Mr. Blackstone. You have remarkable taste with your gifts, which are far too extravagant but that I love all the same. You spoil me rotten.”

He rotated his hips down below, reminding me our bodies were still connected. “My prerogative, and I’ve hardly gotten started, baby. Just you wait.” He winked.

“I haven’t given you any gifts,” I said, plucking at the sheets bunched under my knees.

“Look at me.” His voice was all seriousness, the teasing gone.

I lifted my eyes to meet his blazing blue ones.

“Don’t say that. It’s not true. You’ve given me this.” He took my hand and placed it over his heart. “And this.” He put his hand over my heart. “And this.” He put both our hands over my belly and left them there. “There are no greater gifts, Brynne.”

15

 The shopping expedition proved my theory that this would be an exercise in lunacy.

“What do you mean you’re not wearing these shoes?” Benny held up what had to be at least a six-inch Louboutin stiletto encrusted with crystals. “They’re hot. You can pull it off, luv. Will make your legs miles long.”

I rolled my eyes at him. “And the point of that is?”

“To look sexy?”

I shook my head at Ben. “No, darling. The point of the day is to get married, not to look like I work for an escort service.” I pointed to my belly. “Pregnant, remember?”

“Yeah,” Gaby said sarcastically at my left. “I still can’t believe you kept it a secret from me for nearly two weeks!”

“Sorry, it wasn’t intentional, and have I mentioned that it was a total shock to my system? In more ways than one.” I returned the sarcasm right back with good measure. “I’m barely starting to feel human.” I frowned. “Emphasis on the barely.”

Gaby shook her head. “I bet,” she said, looking over a rack of dresses in hopes of finding something that could pass for a maid of honor’s. “Seven weeks, Bree. We have seven weeks to get this wedding together. It’s insane.”

“I know. I wish we could have a little more time to plan this, but Ethan wants it done as soon as possible. We get a whole two weeks’ leeway after the Olympics finish up.” I lowered my voice to a whisper. “He thinks being married in a big public event and announcing we are expecting will deter whoever is watching me from taking any action. I can only hope he’s right.” My stomach did a little flip, but I pushed the fear away. I really didn’t have time to worry about who might be after me anymore. I was having a baby—another person to protect now. It surprised me how easy it’d been to fall into that role too. Biology was hardwired into us, I realized. Protecting my unborn baby was just a natural instinct that I had to follow. I took a deep breath and reminded myself that Ethan had me well guarded, and that I didn’t take risks. Not anymore. No, that freaky message on my old cell had spooked me thoroughly, along with the idea that two of my attackers on the video were most certainly dead. I looked over to where Len was literally standing guard, the bridal shop not deterring him even the slightest little bit. He was my shadow these days, with Ethan and Neil so busy with the Olympics. I smiled at him and saw the softening of his expression for just an instant before he went back to guard duty, scanning the room and keeping the crazies away. Thank God.

Gaby must have sensed my worry, because she put her arm around me. “You’ve been through so much. How in the heck are you not stark raving mad by now, girl?” She barely paused to take a breath. “Color? You want us in a shade of purple or lavender?”

“That is a very good question. One I’ve got no answer for.” I shrugged. “I was referring to the stark raving mad inquiry,” I told her with a sigh, “and I would love you in purple if you find something that strikes your fancy. I want you and Elaina to feel good in whatever you choose, Gab. And your dresses don’t have to be the same at all, or even the exact same shade or material. I want you guys to wear what you love. You’ll be beautiful in anything—”

“Okay, enough useless prattle, ladies. We have to find a wedding dress, and time is slipping by,” Ben announced imperiously with a theatrical look down at his watch. “Can you tell me what your requirements are in a gown, darling? If I know what you’re looking for, I can do this.” He snapped his fingers on both hands with a flourish.

Gaby rolled her eyes at Ben’s announcement. “That’s a little bold, Ben. You are a guy. What makes you think you can locate Bree’s wedding dress out of the million shops in London?”

Ben looked at Gaby and clucked at her. “I’m g*y. ’Nuff said, woman. When have I ever steered you wrong?” Ben gave Gaby a thorough long look up and down. It was no secret he picked out her clothes all the time, and that she always took his suggestions to heart. Ben was good with fashion and design. God, I loved them both so much.

“I like your earlier suggestion, Benny. Something vintage-inspired, simple—lace is pretty, and I want sleeves. They can be short, but no sleeveless gown for me.” I gestured with my hands over my stomach. “Maybe a higher waistline would be best, in case I start to explode. A little splash of purple, maybe?”

Ben rolled his eyes. “You don’t look up the duff at all, darling.” He cocked his head curiously. “Will you have a bump by August the twenty-fourth?”