In Sickness and in Wealth Page 6

  Jus came up behind me. "Kay—"

  Jerod grabbed a bottle of water from me. "No flags. Sorry, Kayla. How about a promise from the boys to be gentle with you? No tackling the coach's wife. That's just bad form." He put his arm around me, dwarfing me.

  In my tennis shoes, I came up approximately to Jerrod's armpit.

  "Who's in?" Jerod said.

  Someone grumbled, "Where's the fun in that?"

  Matt's hand shot up first. A dozen other guys volunteered.

  Jus shook his head. "Kay, this is a bad idea." He flicked a gaze at his team. "These brutes get carried away when they're playing. They don't know their own strength—"

  "Chill, baby bro." Jeremy took my arm and led me to the field.

  After watching an entire day of the game, I knew the basic rules and some of the rudimentary plays.

  I rubbed my hands together. "I can hardly wait to be in the scrum!"

  "You're not going to be in the scrum with those guys' arms all around you and their hands on your butt." Jus shook his head. "You're too small. You could snap your neck. You're playing wing. Stand outside the scrum and wait to get the ball."

  Jerod shook his head and rolled his eyes.

  The guys picked quick teams and formed up—shirts and bare chests. I was with the bare chests, though technically I was wearing a sports bra. Jerod was shirts. Jeremy was on my team.

  "Aren't you playing, Jus?" I asked, hoping he would.

  "Jus never plays, do you, buddy?" Jerod laughed. "He's afraid of getting his ass kicked."

  Jus shrugged. Water off a duck's back. "Someone has to ref. I'm the best damn one we've got."

  Jus took my arm. "Kay, I wish you wouldn't. The guys get carried away out there. The game's played largely without pads. You don't know how to fall and take a tackle. Every one of those guys outweighs you by a hundred pounds or more—"

  I kissed Jus to shut him up. "I'll be fine. This will be fun! Put the ball in play."

  Rugby was a complicated game, similar, yet different from American football. The other team kicked off. On the second play, Jeremy got the ball and ran for a try. In rugby, you actually have to touch the ball to the ground after crossing the goal line.

  The boys were being a little too protective of me, keeping me out of the action. We kicked off and recovered the ball on the next play. Wanting to show them girls could play, I surged forward and begged for the ball. To my surprise, Matt threw it to me. I caught it, tucked it in close to my right side, and sprinted toward the goal line.

  Defenders closed in on me, surrounding me from all sides. I looked behind me for a teammate to throw the ball to and caught a glimpse of a defender in the corner of my eye. I veered right and slammed into a wall of muscle at full speed. I bounced back and lost my footing. I fell too fast. I tucked the ball to protect it and came down hard on it on the hard-packed ground.

  I landed with a sickening oomph. I felt a searing pain in my chest. The wind rushed out of me. I gasped for air and couldn't breathe. I was vaguely aware of a lot of swearing going on around me.

  My baby. My baby. My baby. Have I killed my baby?

  Jus was calling my name. My ears rang. I blacked out.

  When I came to, Jus was kneeling over me on one side, cradling my head, wearing a passionately worried expression. "Fuck, Jerod! I told you not to hurt her." I'd never heard Jus so angry and upset.

  "I'm sorry, Justin. I'm sorry. I didn't mean for it to happen. She ran straight into me. I couldn't get out of the way in time. How is she?"

  A forest of guys towered over me, completely dead silent. Like someone had died.

  One of the trainers, Sam, was on my other side. "She's coming to. Give her room, guys. She needs air. Kayla? Kayla, can you hear me?"

  I nodded and panicked. It hurt so much to breathe. "Can't breathe."

  "It's okay. Be calm. You've taken a fall. Try to breathe slowly and as deeply as you can."

  "It hurts." I couldn't help myself. I whimpered. The pain was so intense. My lungs ached. I couldn't get a full breath of air. I started crying. I caught a glimpse of a first-aid bag out of the corner of my eye.

  "I'm going to examine you," Sam said. "I'll try to be gentle, but it may hurt. Is that okay?"

  I nodded. "Jus!" I cried. I needed Jus.

  Jus took my hand and squeezed it. "I'm here. I'm right here, babe."

  "Can't breathe." I could barely see him through the tears I was trying to hold back.

  "I know." He stroked my forehead incredibly gently, brushing the hair off my face. "I'm going to unzip your sports bra. That may help." He looked at the trainer. "Bruised ribs?"

  Sam nodded. "Or cracked."

  I yelped, just a little, as Jus tugged the zipper down and the pressure on my lungs eased only minimally. The zipper was for extra support. When it was unzipped, it exposed more fabric, not a lot more of me. Not that I was worried about modesty. I clutched my stomach, wondering if I'd just gotten my wish and would soon be unpregnant, and held back a flood of tears. Suddenly, I wanted Justin's baby. Fickle is woman.

  Sam probed my ribcage. I knew he was trying to be gentle, but I thought I was going to pass out again at the pain. "Her ribcage isn't distended. It doesn't look like she's broken anything. Maybe cracked a few. Impossible to tell without an x-ray."

  "No x-ray!" I murmured, thinking of the baby.

  Jus stroked my forehead again. "No, no x-ray. It wouldn't do any good anyway. There's nothing a doctor can do for a cracked rib except diagnose it."

  I heard the rip of an instant icepack.

  "She came down hard on that ball. She's bruising already." Sam pointed, outlining my ribcage in the air. "You know the drill, Justin. Ice on, ice off every fifteen to twenty. Over-the-counter anti-inflammatory painkillers like ibuprofen for the pain. Rest. Lots and lots of rest. Three- to four-week recovery time. Maybe longer. No strenuous activity."

  A tear slid down my cheek. I was still clutching my abdomen. The pain radiated everywhere. I couldn't tell what was what. I kept expecting to feel a warm rush of blood while I miscarried. But so far, nothing. I couldn't ask Sam. Not without Jus knowing. Why hadn't I told him? I had to tell him.

  My head was fuzzy. I couldn't think clearly. I was going to tell. On his birthday. That's right. On his birthday.

  "She's clutching her stomach." Jus sounded worried as he looked at Sam. "What does that mean?"

  Sam leaned over me and gently applied the icepack. "Kayla, does your abdomen hurt?"

  "Can't tell. Everything hurts." I tried to take a deep breath and whimpered again. I was such a baby.

  "I think she's fine," Sam said to Jus. "Rupturing something would be unusual. Take her home and watch her. Make sure she rests propped up. See if Diana has a wedge pillow. You know what to look for." Sam turned to me. "It's going to hurt to breathe for a while, Kayla. But it's important to fill your lungs with as much air as possible. Even though it hurts, try to breathe deeply."

  I nodded. Everyone looked so worried. I tried to joke. "Easy for you to say."

  Jus shot a death glare at Jerod.

  "It's okay, Jerod," I said. "I ran into you. Did I dent you? Did I hurt you?"

  "Nothing hurts me, sweetheart. I'm fine," Jerod said. "Hang tough, kiddo. I've had my share of bruised and cracked ribs. They hurt like hell for a while. But they heal fast if you take care of yourself."

  Jus interrupted. "I'm taking her home." He scooped me up into his arms. As he stood, I wrapped one arm around his neck, held the icepack against me with the other, and laid my head against his chest, listening to the strong, reassuring beat of his heart. A heart that beat for me.

  Chapter Seven

  Kayla

  As soon as we got back to the pensione, I made an excuse to use the bathroom. It hurt tremendously to move. But I wasn't bleeding. I still had the baby. And suddenly, the thought made me incredibly happy. Now that my pregnancy had been threatened, I wanted it more than anything. Some people tried forever to get pregnant. We accidentally fell in
to it. Maybe we were going to have a brood of children. I didn't know. But no matter what happened, I wanted this one.

  Jus settled me in bed and propped up with all the pillows he could find. Dosed me with painkillers. And let me sleep. That night, he slept in the chair so he wouldn't disturb me.

  I stayed in bed the rest of that day and the next and slept. It hurt to breathe. It hurt to laugh. It hurt to cough. And it really hurt to hurl. Morning sickness and cracked ribs were an absolutely painful combination. And hiding the hurling became even more difficult.

  I didn't get much better in a day and a half. But I didn't get worse. Sam said that was key. It turned out bruised ribs were the perfect cover for most of the symptoms of pregnancy. So there was that. I could sleep all I wanted. Was even encouraged to.

  Diana wasn't the nurturing kind. She was the type of mom who simply told you to buck up and bear it. She had no time to baby people. But she was sympathetic in her own way, making sure I iced my ribs on a regular schedule, and always had plenty of cold icepacks. And plenty to drink. Hydration was key. I wondered where Jus had gotten his sweet, nurturing nature from. How had he survived being a small, sickly, nonathletic child in this family?

  Being around his brothers, I'd seen firsthand how they picked on him and teased him. I supposed it was natural for big brothers to be that way. But I could also see how Jus didn't appreciate it. Or still being considered the baby when he'd surpassed all of them financially and was something of a shark in the business world. I wondered if his ambition and drive stemmed partly from a sense to prove himself. If so, it appeared to me to be a losing battle. Birth order was immutable. And so was physical stature. No matter how rich, important, or powerful Jus became, he was always going to be baby bro to Jerod and Jeremy.

  Who were spoiling me rotten, along with Matt and the rest of the players. I hadn't had so much male attention since I'd be the Beauty of Tau Psi in college, the fraternity's yearly princess. The guys brought me news of the tourney, regaled me with their teams' exploits and videos of tournament play, and tried to fatten me up with an ever-growing variety of gelato.

  It became something of a joke and a game with them. The first day I was hurt, nothing sounded good. They tried to tempt me with everything they could think of to get me to eat something. I swore they'd all picked up some Italian mamma tendencies. "You're too-a skinny! Eat-a something, kiddo!"

  Finally sea salt caramel gelato did the trick. I gobbled down an entire bowl of it. Fortunately, I'd stopped short of asking for pickles with it. After that, I was deluged with sea salt caramel everything. And a tempting assortment of gelato in an attempt to give me variety in my diet.

  "At least she loves something from the sea," Jerod had said with a tease in his eyes. He'd been so sweet to me. Deep down he was a lot like Jus. Just more macho on the outside.

  Like Jus, he and Jeremy liked to tease and prank.

  He was so much like Jus that way—it was clear what devilment he was contemplating. I tilted my head and shook my finger at him. "Don't you dare try to bring me baby octopus ice cream!"

  "Polpetta gelato! Never even crossed my mind. I'll have to suggest that. I was thinking more of a topping. Wouldn't a cute, little baby octopus be delicious perched on top instead of a cherry?" He laughed. "Wouldn't dare. Baby bro would use his gray matter to think up a diabolical way to kill me. Either that or give all my electronic devices a virus I'd never get rid of.

  "Word of advice—don't get on his bad side. He holds a grudge."

  I frowned. "He's still upset with you? I've explained a dozen times. I ran into you! Not the other way around. And then I lost my footing and fell on the ball. It was an accident, pure and simple. Part of the game. Contact sports involve risk. And, um, contact." I laughed and immediately winced because it hurt so bad.

  Jerod was sitting in a chair pulled close to my bed. "Oh, he knows that." He winced, too, out of sympathy. "Sorry. I've had my share of bruised ribs. I know what it's like."

  "That's all right. It only hurts when I breathe, laugh, or cough." I tried to take a deep breath of air like Sam had insisted. But it hurt worse than anything. "I'll keep on him."

  Jerod patted my hand and grinned. "Good luck with that. He's pissed. He had a romantic honeymoon trip down the coast planned, complete with a couple of days on a yacht with nothing planned but ogling you in your bikini and lots of sex. Now he's not going to get to bone you the way he'd planned."

  "Who says he's not?" I said.

  Jerod shook his head and laughed. "You're a braver girl than I thought. Then again, any girl who'll do it with Jus deserves a medal." He winked. "Oh, ouch! No. Not there. That hurts. Careful! Watch the ribs." He shook his head. "Not the noises a guy wants to hear. Maybe okay for some guys. But Justin is the sensitive type. Too much pressure not to hurt you to really enjoy the act."

  He patted my hand again. "You need to give yourself time to rest and recuperate. Don't push it. Justin can wait. He has plenty of money to take you on a trip another time. He just needs time to get over his disappointment.

  "My brother isn't a selfish prick. He's already making noises about taking you home. He'd wanted to fly you back to Seattle immediately. Mom had to convince him to let you rest here a few days first." Jerod paused. "I joke around and tease Justin a lot. But he's a good guy."

  High praise from Justin's older brother.

  On Sunday, the tourney ended. July had slid into August. Italy shut down for the month. Diana, Kirk, Jerod, Jeremy, and the team were preparing to leave Naples for home on Tuesday. As far as I knew, our honeymoon was still on. Jus hadn't told me any differently.

  Jus came into my room, sat gently on the bed, and took my hand in his. "I've arranged for a jet. I'm taking you home tomorrow. You need your rest to heal."

  He looked adorably sad and disappointed. His face was set. I'd seen that look before. There was no use arguing the point.

  I didn't have the energy anyway.

  Jerod had been right on target about what Jus would do.

  "I'm sorry." I took Justin's hand. "This is my fault. If I hadn't insisted on playing—"

  He cut me off with a kiss. "It's no one's fault. We can't live in a bubble."

  That sounded like something Diana would say.

  "I'm disappointed." I batted my eyes and put on a pout, trying to get a smile from him. "And really sorry this isn't the honeymoon we both wanted." He hadn't even seen me naked in three days. And I'd been pretty comatose most of the time, anyway.

  "How's the injury?"

  I lifted my shirt to show him my bruises, which were in full bloom now. Black, purple, and scary. "Ugly."

  He grimaced and turned away. "Damn, Kay. They're getting worse."

  "It took a few days for the deep ones to surface." I put my shirt down.

  "I could kill Jerod."

  "That's what he said." I looked him in the eye. "You have to forgive him. It's not his fault."

  "I know. I have." He took a deep breath. "But seeing you hurt like this." He shook his head. "This is some shitty romantic trip I've taken you on."

  I shook my head. "Jus. This is the best trip I've ever had. That night at the pizzeria when you told me you loved me." Tears welled in my eyes. "It was the most beautiful moment of my life."

  He looked almost startled.

  "Way more romantic than when you proposed." I tried to say it with a straight face.

  He laughed. "Yeah. That was something we both can only imagine."

  I laughed and grabbed my side. "Ouch. Don't make me laugh!" I took as deep a breath as I could. "After I heal—"

  He took my hands in his. "I'll make it up to you. I'll take you anywhere you want."

  I leaned forward for a kiss. "Anywhere you are is fine with me."

  His answering smile was radiantly happy. "I love you, Kay."

  "In English, even!" I didn't know why that made me so happy. "I love you, too, Jus. So much. Always remember that."

  I didn't know why I felt the need to warn him, b
ut I had a strange foreboding. Maybe it was the uncertainty of being pregnant and keeping it from him. I was too perfectly happy. I wanted to hang on to this moment forever. Even though I was in pain. Physical pain was easier to bear than heartbreak. Jus loved me! Now if he reacted well to the news of the baby…

  * * *

  Kayla

  How to tell Jus he was going to be a daddy. How to tell him? How to tell him!

  We celebrated two months of "marriage" quietly at home on the Wednesday evening after we got back. Over a dinner Magda had made that was supposed to be good for the blood and help me heal. Only, it wasn't exactly two months of "marriage" for me. I'd come into this marriage four days late.

  When I pointed that out to Jus, he laughed. "Does that mean you want me to adjust my anniversary by four days? Controlling woman! How will we explain that?" His eyes twinkled.

  "You're a billionaire," I said. "You can do whatever eccentric thing you want. Have two anniversaries four days apart if you like." I paused, screwing up my courage. "By the way, as a matter of semantics, isn't an anniversary supposed to be a yearly event?"

  Jus just grinned. "Yeah. Come to think of it."

  My heart skipped a beat. Was he thinking of making this permanent? Was he hinting at it? Or was I reading way too much into things? Would he still be thinking of it when I told him my news?

  I almost blurted it out right then. The two-month mark was a good milestone. Something to celebrate. As Jus had pointed out on the plane home, sixty days were over now. Almost all the surveillance tapes would have been overwritten. Just a very small percentage left, if any. Once ninety days were over, we'd be free and clear of any worry over them…

  Maybe I should tell him on day ninety?

  No, I couldn't wait that long.

  His birthday. I had an appointment with an ob/gyn next week. Once I got the all-clear that everything was well with the pregnancy, then I would tell him. On his birthday. In some romantic way. Some way that made him feel like stud of the century! Like his love was so potent that getting me pregnant was inevitable. And highly desirable, of course.