In Sickness and in Wealth (6 page)

Her hands froze in place. Her eyes went wide. Kay's smile became effervescent. Her eyes sparkled in all the light that fell on them—the moonlight, the candlelight, the light from the window behind her. What had the Italian woman said to her?

The song ended to a raucous round of applause. I took a bow and made my way back to Kay, waving and shaking hands. Taking ribbing and teasing. At the table, I slid in next to Kay and put my arm around her.

She turned and smiled at me. "
Ti voglio bene."

My heart stopped. I glanced at the older woman. My mouth went dry.

"This isn't part of our act." Kay's voice was soft and full of emotion. "I mean it, Jus. I
love
you."

If hearts could sing, mine was playing an arena right then. "
Sei la mio coccola.
I love you, too.

She stroked my beard. "I have no idea what the first part meant."

"It's something romantic. It doesn't translate exactly—"

She took my face in her hands. "I love you, too. Why didn't you tell me in English the first time?"

"Isn't it obvious?" I swallowed hard.

She smiled softly. "Love makes you vulnerable, Jus. Always has. I—"

I stared at her, waiting for her to finish. "Yes?"

"I think it's time we finished our pizza and went back to the
pensione
. That song you sang to me!" She fanned herself.

I signaled the waiter for the check.

K
ayla

Jus loved me. And I loved him. Stunning and surprising as it was, I really, truly did. Without doubt now, I was in love with Justin Green. Who ever would have thought it possible?

There was something poetic and beautiful about our little scene in the Italian restaurant last night. And about an older Italian woman, an eavesdropper, no less, prompting Jus to confess his secret love for me. And the woman teaching me how to say I love you in Italian.
Ti voglio bene.
Words to live by.

I'd almost told Jus about the baby right then. But to blurt out that kind of news so quickly on the heels of
I love you
seemed crass and calculated. As if I'd been waiting to spring it on him until he declared his undying love and called me his treasure. Not that I ever expected to be called a golden treasure, not even with my blond hair. No, I had
gold digger
attached to my name and reputation. I didn't want Jus thinking I'd been waiting for him to commit before I dropped the bombshell and reeled him, and his wallet, in.

He loved me. But did that mean he wanted to spend the rest of his life with me? He hadn't committed to making the marriage long term. And why should he? In his mind he still had ten months to let this love grow and see where it went. Why rush things?

I wasn't sure myself. I only knew I wanted us to have a fighting chance. I tried to dream up some romantic way to tell him. I came up blank. Was there a romantic way to spring an unplanned pregnancy on a guy?

His birthday. Maybe his birthday. If I was still pregnant on his birthday, August 22
^nd
, I would definitely tell him. What do you get the guy who has everything? A child, of course!

No, well, in addition. Jus had been struggling so much with colors in Milan. Wouldn't his life be easier and richer if he could see the world as everyone else saw it? I'd saved the results of his online colorblind test, which would allow me to order the correct glasses for him. I made a note to order him a pair of colorblind correction glasses when we got home. The gift of color and a baby. How would any woman ever top that? Who could be more of a golden treasure?

The Greens shepherded around one hundred "young men," to use Diana's words. They had staff that translated for them and got them to all the places they were supposed to be. Staff that coached. Medics and trainers. Administrators to deal with passport and visa issues. A large, happy family of employees, all of them dressed in the signature black rugby shorts and shirts with the Rugby Explorers logo plastered everywhere. And, yes, shouldn't their color have been green? Or was that too obvious?

Jus left early to help his dad with the morning practice. I'd been so sleepy, again, that he'd let me linger in bed. Diana had left a women's outfit for me with a note that it was a gift for me to keep. But please wear it while helping out around camp. She also left me a nametag on a lanyard.

In Milan, I'd gotten used to having a brioche and cappuccino in the bar for breakfast. I missed the simple ritual as I grabbed a pastry and headed to the practice field to find Jus, pulling a cooler full of iced water and sports drink Diana insisted I take to them.

After being catcalled and propositioned by half a dozen Italian men on my way to the field as I struggled with the cooler—blonds were rare in
Napoli
—and having my butt pinched in the process, I found Jus. Kirk, Jerod, and Jeremy were with him, drilling the guys and running them through warmups.

Jus waved to me as I arrived at the sidelines, pulling my red cooler. Kirk let the guys take a water break, to much cheering. They descended on me, joking and flirting while I handed out beverages. Suddenly I was their angel of mercy. And hydration, apparently.

I kissed Jus quickly. There was an emotional intimacy between us now that hadn't been there before. Confidence in us. And a burning passion stronger than any I'd felt before. What I'd had with Eric felt like a pale imitation compared to this. A mere schoolgirl crush. An immature thing. Being with Jus was headier than anything I'd known.

"Kayla, you going to cheer us on today?" one of the players, Matt, said to me as he grabbed a dripping bottle of water. Matt was probably twenty. And just so darn cute.

"I certainly am!" I did a quick cheerleader jump. "Will that do?"

Matt and his buddies clapped. "You ever play any rugby?"

Matt was the biggest flirt of any of the guys. The way he said it was a challenge.

"No." I shook my head. No way I was letting a challenge go unanswered. I was dying to get on the field and give the game a try. "I usually prefer to give blood the old-fashioned way. Played a little lingerie football in college, though. We called it powder puff, but…" I winked. "Don't suppose there's any such thing as lingerie rugby?"

Matt grinned and pulled off his shirt, revealing rock-hard abs. "Let's invent it. I'm game. And damn if I'd mind being known as the inventor of another lingerie sport."

The guys hooted.

I shouldn't have been teasing and flirting with the guys. I was just so happy. I couldn't stop myself. I was wearing a sports bra beneath my rugby shirt. I stripped my shirt off to reveal my sexy bright pink sports bra with a zipper in front and extra underwire. "College lingerie football is always flag. I don't suppose there's such a thing as flag rugby, either? No flag, no game."

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.