What Happens In Vegas. Rachel Bailey

too.” There had been a time in Amelia’s life when she’d known nothing about the world of jewels and gemstones. There had also been a time where she hadn’t owned any jewelry worth more than fifty dollars. Tyler had changed all that.

      Every year on her birthday, or for Christmas, he sent her something. The large teardrop amethyst around her neck had arrived on her twenty-sixth birthday. She also had sapphire earrings, a ruby-and-diamond tennis bracelet, an emerald ring and a strand of pearls. She never dared to ask how much he spent. She didn’t want to know. She just bought a small fireproof safe to store it and increased her jewelry insurance policy every year.

      “Of course I have expenses,” he argued. “My point is that we don’t have to rent a tiny place in a cheaper neighborhood on the other side of Nashville. If you’d like to live around here and be closer to work, I’ll have a real estate agent start looking.”

      The average home in the area ran about half a million. A good number of them were twice as much. She couldn’t imagine what the rent would be on a place like that. “You can look,” she said with a tone of disbelief, “but I doubt you’ll find something that works in this area. We don’t need a four-thousand-square-foot mansion with a five-car garage and an indoor pool.”

      He shrugged, leading her down the sidewalk as though discussions of multimillion-dollar real estate transactions were nothing to him. “You don’t know that. I live in Manhattan. Real estate is at such a premium that some people live in apartments the size of a dorm room. The idea of a ridiculously large house—with private parking—sounds awesome to me. Why not? You might like having an indoor pool.”

      “Get real, Tyler,” she said with a wry chuckle. “We may only live in this place for a month. Even if we stay longer, we need at most a three-bedroom house with a decent yard. Maybe a good-size kitchen so I can cook. And that’s only if we like the place enough to put in an offer to buy it. Right?”

      “Right,” he said, looking thoughtfully off into the distance.

      Amelia knew him well enough to know he wasn’t paying any mind to what she said. He’d pick whatever caught his fancy, regardless of price or practicality. All she knew was that if he picked a massive house, he’d better hire a housekeeper to go with it. It would be a full-time job keeping it clean, and she already had one of those.

      They paused at an intersection, waiting for the light to change. “I’ll see what I can find. But like you, I’m not going to compromise, either. This isn’t just about finding a place to stay for a few weeks or months—it’s about finding a home where we can start our life together. It’s the house to which we’ll bring our child home from the hospital. It’s where he or she will take their first steps.”

      Tyler had only known about this baby for an hour, but it didn’t matter. It was still an almost abstract idea in her mind, and yet he’d already revised his entire strategy to accommodate and care for his surprise family. He couldn’t just settle for a house to spend the next few weeks. He wanted a home for his family. He wanted to take care of her and their child. She didn’t understand how he could roll with the punches like that.

      “You know, you don’t have to be so confident and positive about everything. You’re allowed to be upset and scared by the prospect of what’s happening. I threw a grenade at you and you’re just standing there holding it with a smile. I know that you don’t want to be tied down, and a family wasn’t on your radar. I’m freaking out. Tell me you’re freaking out, too, so I’ll feel better.”

      Tyler turned to look at her with a frown. “What good would it do to get upset? Worrying just wastes valuable time. When I’m feeling uncertain, having a plan to go forward and executing it is the only thing that makes me feel better. No, a child wasn’t what I was expecting or wanting. Yes, a part of me wants to get in my car and disappear. But I won’t do that to our child. I have an obligation to step up and take responsibility for my actions, and I’ll do whatever it takes to make it work.”

      It wasn’t a romantic declaration, but she’d asked for his honesty and gotten it. Having Tyler’s child wasn’t her plan, but she knew she would be hard-pressed to find a better father for her baby.

      “You’re only thinking short-term, Ames, but I have no intention of us getting divorced in thirty days. Successful people plan for success, so I’m going to find the perfect house for us. We’ll rent until we’re sure we love it, and then we’ll see if we can convince the owner to sell it. It will be the place where you and I will raise our family.”

      His words should’ve been reassuring, and yet she felt a cold chill run through her as the concept started to sink in. He wasn’t resigned to his obligation or even optimistic about their future together. He was treating this like a challenge to be overcome.

      Until that moment, she hadn’t fully realized that she’d waved red in front of a bull. Laying down a thirty-day challenge to Mr. Overachiever wasn’t very smart if she didn’t want to be with him in the end. Whether or not his heart was in this, he would likely get his way, be it with the house, their child or their relationship.

      She felt a sudden pressure against her chest; the air clamped down in her lungs. Suddenly, a thirty-day trial period had just changed to the rest of their lives.

      What had she really agreed to?

      * * *

      “I’m serious about us making this work, Ames. Our baby deserves it,” Tyler said. Before he could elaborate, he noticed a bit of the color draining from her face. She was fair complexioned, but she was approaching the shade of a sheet of paper. “Are you okay?”

      She grimaced a little but didn’t answer, making him wonder if she was battling morning sickness again. “Are you going to be sick?”

      “No,” she said with a shake of her head. “Suddenly, I’m just a little tired. I didn’t sleep well this weekend and it was a big wedding with three entrée choices. I think it’s just catching up with me.”

      He had witnessed two of his older sisters’ pregnancies, and their biggest complaint was always exhaustion. It started earlier than you’d expect. Taking her elbow, he led her to a bench around the corner.

      Tyler sat her down on the wooden seat and crouched at her knee. He looked up at her, realizing for a moment that he was in the same position he’d been in when he’d proposed to her on a sidewalk along the Las Vegas Strip. The memory made him smile despite his concerns for her. He wasn’t sure what had made him remember their teenage pact that night, but it had seemed like the perfect remedy for her frown. In that moment, he would’ve done anything to cheer her up. He’d never dreamed that their adventure would ever go this far. He’d never even expected them to consummate the marriage, much less have a baby together. Would he have gone through with it if he’d known? That was a question with an irrelevant answer, unless someone had invented a time machine he didn’t know about. He returned his focus to her.

      “Can I get you anything? A bottle of water? Or do you need something to eat? There’s a convenience store across the street. I can bring you anything you want.”

      “Stop fussing,” Amelia said, although her eyes were pinched tightly shut as she spoke. “I’m fine. I just need a minute.”

      “Are you sure I—”

      “I’m pregnant, not helpless, Tyler. I just needed a little break from walking around.”

      Tyler ignored her, jogging across the street to the store and returning with an ice-cold bottle of water. He pressed it into her hand.

      Amelia sighed but twisted off the cap to take a sip anyway. “Are you going to be like this for the next eight months? ’Cause I don’t think I can take you hovering over me all the time. It reminds me too much of my dad.”

      “Hey, now,” Tyler argued in an offended tone. “There’s a big difference between trying to take care of you because I want to and doing it because I think you’re incapable of taking care of yourself. I’m not your father. And you’re not your mother.”

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