L'amore: The Luminara Series (70 page)

I’m breathing heavily. He’s breathing heavily.

My chest rises and falls with such sweet attention. Closing my eyes, I actually don’t want him to move. I want to stay here forever with his cheek pressed against my fluttering tummy. Safe.

“Lucca, I took a test, and it was negative.”

“I want you to do another one tomorrow. I think Grace is right. It makes sense.”

The dizziness, sickness, headaches, tiredness, and loss of appetite.

More tears break the dam and cascade down my cheeks. I’m shaking and sniffling with the realisation.

Metallic taste to my mouth. Shit.

I
am
pregnant. I must be.

He lifts himself up, looking into my wet eyes and quickly wipes my tears away.

“No, baby, do not cry. Do you know how happy you would make me if you are carrying our baby? I love you more than anything in the world. I thought I could not love you any more, Lexi, and I do every day. I would love us to have a baby. I know this is a little quick for you, but we agreed to have a family at some point. It is just unexpected, but not unwelcome.”

“Hmmm …” I sigh. This is not what I expected, perhaps in a few years’ time, not now.

“We are lucky and blessed to have one another, but a family ... God, Lexi, I cannot tell you how much that excites me, how much I want you to be the mother of my kids, now or in the future. There is probably never a perfect time. It is a miracle and will happen when God sees fit to bless us with this gift.”

His warm hand splayed across my stomach causes light tremors of internal desire deep in my core. The other hand is on my cheek. He leans into me, kissing my cheeks, my eyes, my nose, and then my lips. I’m trying to block out the fact I’ve just been sick.

Yuck.

“And what if I’m not? I don’t want you to be disappointed. You seem pretty convinced and
hopeful,
” I say cautiously.

“If you are not, we live our lives. I protect you. We get married and think about it when you are ready. I feel awful about putting pressure on you before when you have all this other stuff going on. You need to know either way I have you and you are the most important person to me, the most important person in the world and always will be. If I can keep you safe, I will be a happy man. Then we will concentrate on our future when this all passes.”

He always says the nicest, most sincere words when I’m in despair.

“And what if I am pregnant, what then?” It changes everything.”

In the dim flickering light of the lantern, I see a glimmer of excitement cross his eyes.

“I will take great care of you, both of you. I will spoil you and we will have a baby, a very lucky baby I might add to have parents like us to care for it, and we will cherish and love our baby and live our lives, and we will be the happiest parents in the goddamn world.”

“And what about getting married?” I ask a little more rationally now that my tears are subsiding.

“We can marry as soon as possible if you want. You know I want to. I can make it happen or if you want to wait we will until after the baby has arrived then that is fine too. Lexi, I need you and want you to be my wife, baby or not, we are going to get married and have a future together.”

Could I love this man anymore?

I close my eyes.

“You sound like you already know I am.”

He’s so near my mouth, his nose pressed against mine and his warm hand splayed across my abdomen. With one finger hitched under the lace edge of my panties, the other rests on top. He pulls me closer to him. His hot breath gusts over my lips and neck, and it’s deliciously exhilarating. He’s raspy, sexy, and attentive.

“I just know you are. Your mother is right.”

He graces my lips with a chaste kiss. Then he slides back down and kisses my stomach causing little reverberating ripples of pleasure. Sweetly circling and kissing my skin, his tender caress has my sex so electrified with a pulsing desire that I need him. It’s a feeling like nothing else.

For a nanosecond, I’m thinking I may be able to handle pregnancy if this is the pleasure I get from the man I love smothering me in protective blissful caress. I like it, I feel secure, safe, and special. Lucca’s hot air from his nostrils travels across my abdomen, only to turn me on because he’s so near my hot, damp sex.

His attentive fondling is pacifying and pleasing, and I’ve forgotten all about my day of sickness beneath his considerate and thoughtful touch. Rationally, I feel as if I need to pull him away from caressing my tummy in the event I’m not pregnant, but it feels so perfect and I just can’t. My head is full of mixed emotions, but the one thing that pulls me back from fear, doubt, and anxiety is Lucca’s love.

Always, Lucca’s love.

“Lucca?”

“Hmmm?” He sighs, moving his jaw so his bristly stubble grazes across my soft skin again.

“I love you … but I’m scared. I mean I was scared about Michael Parks but this just … well, I don’t know if …” My voice trails off, sounding broken. It scares me on a whole new level. I don’t know that I’m ready right now to be a mum. Lucca is supportive but it’s me, I question my coping mechanisms. What if I screw this up? He’s already talking about having extra therapy sessions with Casey. How am I supposed to be strong and supportive, set a good example to a child, when I can barely do it for myself?

He kneels in front of me on a lower haystack and slides his hands behind my back, pulling my upper body up so he’s between my legs: his chest to mine, my sundress scrunched up in between us. He looks into my eyes, closing the space between us, claiming me, owning me and wordlessly calming me.

I know he’s telling me everything will be okay, and I want to believe in us, our light and our future.

“Tell me what you are thinking.” He searches my eyes, so close and sincere.

Here goes.

“I’m …” Breathlessly, I carry on through my nerves. “I’m worried I won’t be a good mummy, or be fit to look after a child. You said yourself that the specialists suspect I’m on the verge of a breakdown similar to my mum’s.”

Pain and upset lace his voice, but his eyes are so warm and compassionate that they are filled with honest love. He’s hurting that I would even question myself. “Christ, Lexi, they do not know you, but I do. You are strong, loving, caring, and selfless. You put everyone before yourself the way your mother has done with you and Cameron. You have endless support, and I will always love and protect you. We can do this together. I give you my word, I promise. I will be a hands on papa and be there every step of the way, at every aspect of our child’s life. And for you, dolcezza, I will be here for you, always. If you are rotten at changing the nappies, I will tell you so.”

I giggle because he’s alluding to my insecurities and trying to be light-hearted.

“Lexi, your mother may have had issues to face, but she has done a pretty damn fine job of raising you both, especially under the circumstances. She is stronger than you give her credit for, and so are you, Doc. Believe me. Do you feel better?”

“I don’t feel as sick as I did.”

“That is good. I am pleased. Do you feel better now that we have spoken?” His thumb trails down my stretched neck, my chest, my breasts, and to my stomach again.

“Yes, you have a way with me, Mr. Caruso, and I’m thankful you can always centre me. I need your reassurance, and you’ve helped me see a little clearer tonight, so thank you.”

I imagine everyone has doubts and this is normal. I had an amazing weekend with Lucca’s nieces and nephews and I could see myself care for our child someday, but now the reality is overwhelming. I’ve not even had time to file and revisit these thoughts.

His hand travels under my dress, over my thighs, and up to my tummy again. These palms of his are going to be splayed over my tummy for the next nine months if I am pregnant.

“You know, Lucca, it’s the same tummy you felt seconds ago.”

“Baby, get used to it. If you are pregnant, which I am sure you are, I will be stuck to your tummy like glue.”

“Hmmm, and what if I’m not? Does that mean I won’t get any of this TLC?” I challenge, wrinkling my nose.

“I will still be giving you plenty of TLC because I told you I am stuck on you, but that is
if,
baby. I know you are.”

We talk and cuddle for so long my stomach rumbles, which stifles a laugh from both of us.

“Time we fed you. Are you ready to go?” He places a final kiss on my abdomen, then my lips.

“Yes, I hope my mum didn't tell Granny. Oh God, can you imagine? I might be dragged into church tonight after she wallops me with her loafer.” He laughs, fixing my dress. “Then she’ll wallop you,” I add.

We lift the blankets, blow out the lanterns, and walk back to the sunroom.

Church

Everyone has finished their meal when we return to the dining room. Mr. Carlin and Grandpa have a dram of whiskey in hand as they share familiar stories, playing chess.

“Alexis, Lucca, I’m glad you joined us. Would you like some dinner?” Mum asks.

“Yes, thank you, but it’s okay. I’ll fix something,” I say, squeezing Lucca’s hand.

“Okay, I’ll help you.” She picks up the rest of the empty plates and carries them into the kitchen.

“I’ll bring you something. Please, sit down and relax,” I tell Lucca. He picks up my hand, kissing the front of it, and nods for me to go with my mum.

I follow her into the kitchen. My fingers feel tight, my heart rate is quickening, and my head is dizzy. I’m nervous about what she might say.

“Is peppercorn fillet of beef, Diane sauce, potatoes, sautéed vegetables, and soda bread okay for Lucca?” she asks, fetching the ingredients from the fridge.

“Yes, perfect. He’ll love that.”

“And you?” she adds.

“It sounds lovely, but I don’t think I’ll manage tonight. It would be a waste.”

“Did you two talk?” she asks as she seasons Lucca’s beef fillet. I watch her sear it in the hot pan then put the potatoes back onto the cast iron stove to crisp.

“Yes, but I’m so confused.” I lean against the counter and worry my fingers in front of my lips.

Stopping, she turns around to face me. “When did you get this implant thing?”

“Monday, but I’ve been on the pill.” I rub my finger over my arm where it was inserted.

“The pill can be unreliable. Did you take it correctly?”

“Yes, I’ve been very cautious.”
Or have I?

“Have you been sick or taken any prescription drugs that could interfere with the effectiveness of your pill?”

Then like a jolt of lighting shocking me into reality, I place my hand over my mouth. “That’s it. I had antibiotics in Tuscany, but I still took my pill and never realised.”

Shit, how could I be so careless?

“And did you use other precautions?”

Shamefully, I drop my head, embarrassed to be having this conversation with her. “No.”

“There you go. That’s why you’re pregnant.” Noticing the disbelief on my face, she smiles. “Alexis, please don’t worry. It will be fine, I promise you. Regardless of the outcome, you have Lucca and you have us.”

“I don’t think I’m strong like you.”

She walks over and wraps her arm around me, stroking my hair. “Nonsense. You’re stronger and you know it. You’re loved and in love, so it’s completely different. If you had called me and told me you were pregnant, I would have passed out from shock, but this is different and I’m honestly happy for you. Ideally, I would love you to be married first, but it doesn’t matter. Watching you both, I’ve no doubt in my mind that you’ll be great parents together and have a happy life. I don’t want to miss a minute of my grandchildren growing up, and I hope it will bring us closer together again. Second chances, right?”

“I hope so. Second chances,” I whisper.

We hug in the middle of the kitchen, and a few tears escape her eyes. She assures me they’re happy tears, and in this moment I feel love for my mum. I watch her flipping the steak, and the smell of it cooking is making me queasy again so I hold my breath, spreading my toast with cheese and Branston pickle. I fill the whistling kettle and place it on the stove.

“Have you told Granny?” I ask, standing back from the sizzling, bloody beef.

Taking a nibble of my toast, she moves me to get to the clean plates. “No, let’s just wait and see first, but she suspects something. Then I’ll be in the bad books for not telling her.”

“Mum, either way, I just need to know … are you proud of me?”

She drops her utensil and walks towards me, wrapping her arm around my waist. “Every blooming day, more than yesterday and less than tomorrow, so don’t ever doubt that, ever.” I wonder what she would make of this predicament if she was in one of her fragile episodes.

“I’m worried about what Granny and Grandpa will think of me.” Chewing the inside of my cheek, I fidget with an envelope with their name on it that is sitting on the counter.

“Don’t worry about that. If we’re right, it will be lovely news and good for this family to have something positive to focus on for a change.”

My goodness, someone has virtually reprogrammed Mum’s mind. I think she has stared long enough into Lucca’s azure blue crystals and she’s under a trance.