“One thing at a time, love.” His tone is placating, albeit a bit unnerved. “A simple phone call will have you and our baby seen to next week. You’ve had a lot going on.” He brings a hand to his chest. “I want you, and I want this child, more than I want my next breath.” His hand balls into a fist clutching his heart. “Nearly losing you was the ultimate wake-up call. I don’t care how this child came to be; I only care that he or she will be ours. That we will have the life we’ve always dreamed of. And I hate that it took such drastic measures to make me stop dragging my feet, but I want you. Both of you.”

How can he be so calm about all of this? He must have some reservations. “I’m worried you may be having regrets and are simply too much of a gentleman to tell me.”

“I’m not,” he promises, “having regrets, nor am I anything resembling a gentleman.”

“Please stay over there,” I beg when he starts to cross the room, “so I can finish.”

He stops in his tracks, releasing a frustrated breath.

“The situation with my father…it’s improved. The results of yesterday’s scans change everything.” It takes all the strength in me to keep going, because I don’t actually want him to take the escape I’m offering, but I couldn’t live with myself if I didn’t give him this out. “So, if there’s any part of you that went back to Nashville and was like what hell did I just get myse—”

“Jailbait?” he says, slowly and steadily making his way to where I stand. “With all due respect, stop talking.”

“Excuse me?” I stammer, ready to tell him what he can do with his bossy self, but I open my mouth and no sound comes out. There’s a very strong chance I’m in shock, because what the hell is happening?

My groom’s hands drop to his waist, where he yanks his belt open. He keeps his gaze locked on mine as he proceeds to unfasten his pants.

“Lyle?” I rasp, my heart rate speeding out of control at the sound of his zipper lowering.

In one fluid motion, he bares his lower half, as his clothes pile around his ankles.

“Th—thought you wanted to wait until tonight?” I am so confused. And also so very turned on.

“Get on your knees,” he commands, his tone leaving no room for dispute.

Clearly something is very wrong with me because I swallow hard, lift my dress, and lower myself to the floor without argument. “Now what?” I ask, both nervous and excited. Lyle would never hurt me. I know that much.

He lifts the tails of his shirt, exposing his rigid length. “Tell me, angel, does this look like regret?”