Page 80 of Let Me Love You

My stomach tightens, and I let out a slow breath.

“Not feeling it?” Mack murmurs, keeping his voice low so only I can hear him.

I shake my head. “It’s fine.”

Mama Taylor appears from the kitchen with an apron wrapped around her waist as she greets us, kissing Mack’s cheeks and doing the same to mine. “Hello, my beautiful Macklin. Hello, my beautiful Kate.”

“Hi, Mama Taylor,” I reply.

“Hi,” she repeats. “Now, come sit down. Theo and Blakely have an announcement.”

An announcement?

Oh.

The engagement.

Mama and Papa Taylor must not know about Theo’s proposal during the Lions’ banquet. Honestly, it’s kind of surprising. I figured Theo would be shouting it from the rooftops. When Blake said yes, the guy looked like he’d won the lottery. And in a way, I guess he has. They’re perfect for each other. I’m excited to see Mama and Papa Taylor’s reaction to the whole thing, despite my newfound desire to keep the bun in my oven a secret so I don’t steal the limelight. I glance at Macklin and squeeze his hand, curious if he’s thinking the same thing. Before he has a chance to read my mind, Blake and Theo round the corner from the kitchen, each balancing mugs of hot coffee. Blake’s red hair is even messier than usual, and she’s sporting a dopey grin, her lips red and swollen. When he mutters something under his breath to her, Blake smacks his shoulder, smoothes out her hair, and touches her fingers to her lips as if they can hide the fact she most definitely looks thoroughly kissed.

Thankfully, Mack’s a gentleman and doesn’t give her shit for it as he calls out to them. “Hey, guys.”

With a hard slap on the back, Theo pulls Mack into a brotherly hug, balancing his coffee mug between them while Blake grins at me. “Hey.”

“Hey.”

Her smile wanes as she looks at me more closely. “You doing okay? You look a little pale.”

“I’m fine,” I lie.

Her gaze narrows. “You sure?”

I tug her closer and drop my voice low. “I’ll tell you later. Promise.”

“Hmm.” The hum is quiet, but her lips stay pursed as Miley and Hazel join everyone in the foyer, and we all chat for a minute. When Mama Taylor ushers us into the dining room, I stop short, another wave of nausea rolling over me.

Seriously. When did bacon start smelling so disgusting?

“Kate?” Mack questions.

“I’ll be right back,” I mumble to no one in particular, rushing to the bathroom on the main floor. The door has barely latched when I’m on my knees, spilling my guts into the porcelain bowl. Fatigue creeps inside me as I rest my head on the cool seat and take a deep breath, wiping the corner of my mouth with my thumb.

So this is the morning sickness I'd been warned about.

I haven’t felt great here and there, but I hadn’t actually puked until today.

Great.

After another minute, I push myself up, wash my hands with soap, and rinse my mouth with cold water. I’d kill for a toothbrush, but I’m shit out of luck. Maybe I’ll buy a travel-sized one for my purse in case this happens again. Smoothing my hair out in the mirror, I square my shoulders and open the bathroom door but stop short.

Papa Taylor’s on the other side, his brows stitched with concern. “You okay?”

“Uh, yeah,” I hedge.

“You sure?”

“Mm-hmm.”

“You have the flu or somethin’?” he prods.