plans and engorgement. . .”
Emma groaned and buried her face in his shirt. “This is the most unsexy experience of my life. It’s ironic that it was caused by sex.”
“Since you brought it up, I hope you know sex is completely safe during pregnancy.”
“Are you wondering if you’re ever getting any again?” Emma pulled back and looked up at him with a smile.
“No, it’s only been seven weeks and three days, so I actually haven’t thought about it that much.”
“I’m sorry. I haven’t thought about how hard this whole thing’s been for you.”
“Don’t say that, Em. It’s been hard for you. You’re the one who’s sick and upset. I wish I could make you feel better.”
“Let’s go tell our parents,” she said. “That’ll be a load off.”
“Okay. So . . . just so we’re on the same page before we go over there . . . did you want to get married?”
Emma fought an urge to give him a death glare and stomp out of the room. The man who’d made her feel like the most beautiful woman in the world when they started dating was now asking her if she wanted to get married the same way he’d ask if she wanted cheese on her burger. “No.”
***
Emma clutched Cole’s hand for dear life, and he stroked a thumb over her skin to reassure her. Shawn Carson was a mild-mannered guy. This would go fine. Her parents would be surprised, sure, just like his would when they went across the street to tell them next. But like it had with Cole, the shock of the news would wear off and they’d all be excited about becoming grandparents.
“What’s this about, you two?” Emma’s mom asked, smiling. “Do you have some news to share with us?”
Cole caught her glance at Emma’s left hand.
“Uh . . . yeah,” Emma said, clearing her throat. She looked at Cole and he offered a reassuring smile. “I’m pregnant.”
The room was silent as the words sank in. Then Eliza Carson’s eyes filled with tears and she smiled.
“Emma! I—”
She went silent when her husband bounded up from his chair at the kitchen table, his face reddening. He pointed a finger at Cole.
“You.” His tone was ominously measured. “You’ve really done it now. First you date Layla, then decide you want Emma, and now this?”
“Mr. Carson—”
“What can you possibly say in defense of yourself? You’ve insulted my daughter and our entire family.”
“Dad!” Emma cried. “I was just as much a part of this as Cole was. And we’re adults. Don’t treat me like a teenager who’s dropping out of high school because I got pregnant.”
“Well, you’re acting like a teenager!” he yelled. “Is this how we raised you?”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Emma’s fear had apparently been replaced by anger. “I love Cole. We live together. We didn’t plan this, but we’ll make it work.”
“Don’t expect us to be happy about it,” her dad said, his face so flushed it was almost purple. “And don’t expect us to pay for your shotgun wedding, either.”
Emma rose from her chair, her voice wavering with emotion. “I didn’t come over here to ask you for anything.”
Shawn Carson’s eyes blazed as he pointed at Cole again. “You’d better marry her.” Cole had never seen this side of the neighbor man he’d known more than a decade.
“I want to marry her,” Cole said. “I love Emma. And I’m sorry I disappointed you, Mr. Carson.”
“We both disappointed him,” Emma said bitterly. “And this isn’t the middle ages, Dad. I’m . . .” Her voice shook as she fought to hold back tears. “. . . hurt that you’re acting so backwards. It’s not supposed to be about him marrying me to preserve anyone’s honor. If we get married, it’ll be for the right reasons.”
“If?” This time it was Emma’s mom who spoke, her face twisted with sadness.
“Yes, if.” She glared at her mother and then at her father. “I don’t know how you guys raised two independent, forward-thinking
Jean-Marie Blas de Robles