Page 69 of Broken SEAL'S Secret Baby
“They missed it?” I’m horrified.
He makes a gesture to negate my feelings. “I don’t blame them. There were twenty of us in that truck, and some of the guys were worse off than I was. They did a pretty good job of patching me up, and the doctors at the naval base got me walking again. This was a sneaky little thing that eventually worked its way out to lodge between bone and the titanium hip replacement. Then it got infected.”
“Oh, Charles! It was a near thing, then?”
He nods. “It was. But here’s what I need to talk to youabout. It will heal, and I can give you a fun time, but probably not any children. Somehow, the doctors think the fever cooked my little guys into a sterile soup.”
I laugh. I’m so relieved. I thought it was something serious.
“Kate!” he exclaims. “It isn’t a laughing matter!”
I put my head down on the arm of my chair and explode with mirth. “Katie! You’re hysterical. I’ll call the nurse. Please stop, tell me what’s so funny.”
I lift my head. My face is wet with tears, I had laughed so hard. “Charles, you know how I’ve been feeling tired all the time?”
He nods.
“I’m pregnant. I’ve never been with anyone else, so it has to be yours. So you don’t have to worry about your virility. And even if you are or will be, did you think I would care about that?”
“You’re pregnant?” Charles exclaims. “Oh, Katie, sweetheart, are you sure?”
I nod. “About two months along, if my notes on my calendar are right. We’ve just been so busy, I didn’t pay close attention.”
He sighs happily and leans back on the bed. “You’ve found one new way to make me happy. No, two, because you aren’t worried about having more.”
“I’m not the least worried,” I assures him. “Cece’s enough of a handful all on her own. If this precious bean I’m carrying turns out to be anything like Big Sister, they will keep us hopping. If the pair of them aren’t enough, and we can’t start more, we’ll adopt.”
Charles lets out a weary chuckle. “In that case . . . this isn’t how I was going to do this. I talked to your brother, and even made a trip out to discuss it with your parents. Your dad couldn’t stop shaking my hand and saying howglad he was that his Katie had found a war hero. I don’t see myself as that much of a hero, but if it makes him happy, I’m for it.”
I stare at him, trying to figure out what he was saying to me.
He notices my confusion, squeezes my hand, and goes on. “I had it all planned for Christmas morning, I wanted to put it in your stocking. But with as uncertain as things have been, I don’t want to wait. My clothes are over there,” he gestures toward the far wall, “in a cabinet. Will you please go check my jacket pocket?”
“All right,” I say, feeling more than a little confused.
I go to the cabinet, pull out his neatly folded jacket, and search through the pockets. A small package is in one of them. I bring it over to him.
“Oh, good,” he says. “I was afraid they might have put it somewhere for safe keeping or that it might have fallen out.”
He turns his face toward me and holds onto my hand. “Katherine Ann Bailey, will you do me the honor of becoming my wife?”
I gasp in surprise. “Charles, you don’t have to . . .”
“I know that,” he says, exasperated. “I could pay child support and view this kid from afar, but I think that’s a bad deal for all of us. I’d rather formalize our arrangements and have this little spitfire where I can keep an eye on him or her as the case may be. Come on, Katie,” he coaxes, “I’ve been trying to get up the nerve to ask you since the first time we went glamping. I thought maybe I might get it across to you with music, but I guess I need to learn more about how to use my words. Please, please, just say yes. It’s the easiest way, and it will make me happy.”
“Yes,” I say. “It will make me happy, too.” Mindful of the nurse’s instructions, I cuddle his hand to my face, then kiss his fingers, and cry happy tears. Cece is safe. Charles is safeand will get well. And we are getting married! My world is as perfect as it could ever be.
“Katie! Don’t cry,” Charles says, in alarm.
“I love you, Charles,” I tell him. “I’ve been trying to get up the nerve to say it ever since the night of the tornado.”
“I love you, dainty Kate,” he says, pulling my hand to him and kissing each finger in turn.
“For all cates are dainties?” I ask roguishly, smiling through my tears.
“Delicious, nibble-able dainties,” Charles says. “As soon as I am well enough, I plan to show you just how delicious. I want to offer you my kingdom, such as it is. And I promise I have absolutely no desire to ‘tame’ you or change a single thing. You are perfect to me.”
“And you are perfect to me,” I say softly.
