Daddy To Go: A Secret Baby Medical Romance

by Adams, S. C.

  Daddy To Go

  A Secret Baby Medical Romance

  S.C. Adams

  Copyright © 2019 by S.C. Adams

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

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  For my Readers

  Also by S.C. Adams

  Husband To Go

  Size King

  About This Book

  The gorgeous doctor’s got sensual lips, sculpted abs, and whoops! He gave me a baby the forbidden way.

  Ryder Rivington rode into town, and the female population gasped. This doctor was H-O-T. In our small village, it’s not often you see a physician with tattoos swirling up his sculpted arms, not to mention those penetrating blue eyes and cocky, knowing grin.

  But even more, Dr. Rivington’s got magic in his hands …

  … so magical in fact, that he gave me a baby!

  It was my first exam. It was supposed to be about blinding florescent lights and the cold, hard touch of a metal speculum. I was frightened, and absolutely terrified about what was going to happen.

  But instead, Dr. Rivington made the experience sensual, warm and hazy …

  … and now, all I want is more babies with the handsome physician!

  Taboo to the hilt. Insane. Get-yourself-arrested crazy. The daddy doctor has come to town and he’s driving our sassy heroine absolutely wild with his growly, badass ways. Reader beware: first aid may be needed after encountering Ryder Rivington.

  This is a second chance, secret baby romance with an HEA, no cheating and no cliffhangers.

  Contents

  1. Abby

  2. Ryder

  3. Abby

  4. Abby

  5. Abby

  6. Ryder

  7. Abby

  8. Ryder

  9. Abby

  10. Abby

  11. Ryder

  12. Abby

  13. Abby

  14. Ryder

  15. Abby

  16. Ryder

  17. Abby

  18. Abby

  19. Ryder

  20. Abby

  21. Abby

  22. Ryder

  23. Ryder

  24. Abby

  25. Ryder

  26. Abby

  27. Abby

  28. Abby

  29. Abby

  30. Ryder

  31. Abby

  Epilogue

  Sneak Peek: Husband To Go

  About the Author

  1

  Abby

  “You really need to stop panicking,” my best friend Mary scolded as she sat on the phone with me for the tenth straight minute of panic. “This is something that women get done all the time. I mean, there’s probably some ridiculous statistic out there that says every minute five thousand women get poked and prodded by a gynecologist.”

  I looked down at my hands, clutched securely to the steering wheel. I was white knuckling. White knuckling seemed to come with the territory whenever a doctor’s appointment loomed into view.

  “I know, I know,” I said with a sigh. “It’s just that I’ve never had anything in there before. This is my first gyn appointment.”

  “Which is ridiculous,” Mary snapped. “You’re twenty. I got my first one at sixteen. Besides, it’s not all about the badump-badump. You have to have those ta-tas checked too, woman!”

  “But I heard it’s going to hurt,” I whined. “I saw the pictures. They take this long metal tool and stick it up … well, you know where.”

  Immediately my thighs clenched together, and my fingers began to ache from being so tightly wrapped around the steering wheel. I could barely keep the phone stuck between my cheek and shoulder but there was no way I was prying my frigid hands from the crumbling leather of my Toyota Camry’s wheel.

  “It is uncomfortable, I told you that,” Mary said with exhaustion. “But like I said, you should be more concerned with making sure you have your breasts examined. That is no laughing manner. Your family has that –” She snapped her fingers. “What’s it called? The Angelina Jolie cancer gene. At least they most likely do, and you’ve been too afraid to get that test done too.”

  “Yeah, I know,” I whispered, looking over at the small picture of my deceased grandmother that hung from the rearview mirror. “I guess you’re right.”

  “I am, and you’ll realize that it’s not that terrible,” she said comfortingly. “Now put your big girl panties on, get your ass out there, and go to the appointment. Call me later to tell me how right I am.”

  I chuckled, loosening the grip on the column. “Okay. Thanks, hun.”

  “Yeah, yeah,” she laughed. “Thank me when you’re done.”

  Mary hung up the phone and I finally released the faux leather wheel, dropping my phone onto the seat beside me. I tapped my foot on the floorboard and looked up in the rearview mirror. There was a blob of chocolate from the milkshake I nervously woofed down on the way over, stuck to the corner of my mouth. I wiped it away and sighed, pulling my sweater down tightly.

  Of course, it wouldn’t stay that way because my boobs are too huge for the damn thing. Nonetheless, the thick material made me feel more secure, like it was armor against prying eyes. So be it. It was a false security, but worth the scratchy, hot wool.

  I took the keys out of the ignition and took in a long deep breath. “You can do this, Abby. One foot in front of the other and before you know it, you’ll be done.”

  I gave myself a solid head nod and flung the car door open, glad that I parked in an outside space so I wouldn’t have to squeeze my swinging hips sideways to get down the row. The parking lot was full of vehicles but no one was out walking around. Well, except for a very pregnant woman with her husband frantically scampering beside her, holding her purse while patting her hand.

  Well, I was probably off better than the pregnant lady. She looked hugely uncomfortable, as if there was a giant watermelon in her tummy. At least at that moment I didn’t have to schlep around another human being inside of me while waddling like a duck.

  Carefully I stepped up onto the sidewalk and meandered as slow as I could go without looking suspicious. Walking along the pathway I glanced down at the red blooming flowers and the groomed and mulched shrubbery. I couldn’t help but wonder if it was perfectly done to create a false sense of comfort before getting probed with a cold metal tool.

  Just then the door flew open and a woman came out on her phone with an annoyed expression on her face.

  “Yeah, I just got done. No biggie, just had to check the lady bits. Yeah, I’m on my way back to the office.”

  I stepped to the side to let her pass but she didn’t even notice I was there. If she could be so nonchalant about it, I should have nothing to worry about, right? I wish it was that easy to convince myself of that fact. I grabbed the door before it shut and walked in, looking to my right at the sliding glass wall with a receptionist in scrubs sitting behind the counter.

  Meanwhile, to my left was the waiting room where four or five women sat. They were accompanied by a couple of guys awkwardly sitting there with their eyes glued to a silent TV. The place was actually not as scary as I thought. There were colorful paintings on the walls, a pleasant low music playing overhead, and the seats looked comfortable. It was definitely not the institutional green walls and fluorescent lighting I had been expecting.

  Twisting my lips
, I walked up to the window and smiled, waiting for the receptionist to push it open.

  “How can I help you?” she asked in a kind tone.

  It took me a second to get my voice. “Yes, I have an appointment to see Dr. McNamara.”

  The secretary looked at me funny, almost puzzled. I immediately reached into my purse and pulled out an appointment card, handing it over to her. “I made the appointment two months ago.”

  She took the card and tapped on the computer for a moment. “I see. They should have called you because Dr. McNamara actually went on vacation. I apologize, she must have scheduled her vacation after you made this appointment, and we forgot to give you a ring.”

  “Darn,” I said, secretly delighted. Yay, I’d get to reschedule! Thank goodness!

  “Well, hold on,” the secretary said, typing again on the computer.

  I bit the inside of my cheek and clutched my bag in front of me, wobbling back and forth, my eyes darting around. They went back to the woman behind the counter and for the first time I actually noticed what she looked like. She was tall, slim, and beautiful, with long silky blonde hair. I tugged on my sweater a bit, now feeling huge and bulky.

  “It’s really okay,” I offered. “I can just reschedule for a later date.”

  The secretary narrowed her eyes at the computer screen for a moment.

  “Actually, you don’t need to do that at all. I have a spot open with Dr. Rivington instead. It’s only ten minutes from now. And trust me, he is awesome at what he does, puts you right at ease, and can have you in and out of here in a jiffy.”

  My hands instantly white knuckled again, this time on the straps of my purse. I wanted to say no, especially when she had described the doctor as a “he.” I wanted to be seen by a woman. I had never had any man look at my parts before, much less seen me fully nude. My first pap smear was not really where I wanted to start.

  But there I stood, staring at the beautiful blonde lady with the perfect white toothed smile. It was intimidating. So, instead of turning her down, I found myself slowly nodding my head, unsure of how my face actually looked in that moment.

  It didn’t really matter. I was going to have to get the appointment done at some point or another. I could put it off but in reality, there was no good reason to wait. It was hard for me to get time off work, and I really couldn’t afford to take another day for another appointment. So I let my head continue to nod as the woman chirped and pulled my file.

  “Did you fill out the new patient forms?” she asked.

  I continued to nod, pulling them from my bag and handing them through the window. I also gave her my insurance and my license and stood in disbelief as she ran them through the copier and handed them back over to me. I went from barely wanting to come in to having an appointment with a male doctor. Oh god. It was going to be awful.

  But the receptionist didn’t know.

  “Alrighty,” she said cheerfully. “Meet me at the door over there and we’ll get your vitals and take you on back. It was just lucky we had a cancellation.”

  I forced a smile, one that I knew did not actually look genuine. Turning, I walked toward the door. With each step I felt like I was making my way down Death Row. My knuckles were still white while one hand clutched my bag and the other my paperwork, now crumpled. Just as I stepped up, there was a click and the door opened, the same lady holding it as I walked through.

  “Come on right over here to my office and I’ll get your stats,” she said walking in front of me.

  We went into a small room with a couple of pictures on the wall, a height measure, and a scale. She grabbed one of the blood pressure machines from outside the room and wheeled it in, wrapping the cuff around my arm. Then, she stuck a thermometer in my mouth and stood there, waiting for the machine to show its readings.

  “Your temp’s slightly up because it looks like you are a little nervous,” she soothed. “But everything’s normal. No need to be nervous, I promise you. The doctor is very gentle and always makes sure to cover all questions from his patients.”

  I nodded as she took the cuff off and held her hand to the scale. I stepped up but closed my eyes, not wanting to see the final number. I haven’t owned a scale in years, and didn’t plan on ruining my entire day with those stats. She could probably tell I wasn’t fond of it, as she didn’t repeat my weight out loud to me.

  “Okay, I have all your information on the sheets,” she cheerfully said walking to the office door. “Let’s head back to your exam room and get you all set up.”

  I followed her back, clutching my purse to my chest, glancing at the nurse’s station. There were four young nurses, all stick figures, typing, writing notes on files, and taking care of their normal workload. No one looked up at me but I couldn’t help but feel like everyone was staring. It was all in my head, as it usually was, but it didn’t help the nerves that were coursing through me as I made my way back to the exam room.

  Ugh. Now we were at the place where it would all go down. The place where I would be checked, poked and prodded from head to toe. Suddenly I was glad that I had taken so much time to meticulously manicure my lady bits the night before. Three hours had seemed excessive but now I was thinking maybe four would have been better, given that I was about to be seen by a guy.

  “Right in here,” the nurse said, smiling as she allowed me to walk past her.

  Inside the exam room was a pleather exam table covered by a long sheet of white paper and stirrups folded back at the ends. I sat my purse down on the chair hesitantly and turned around, tapping my hands on my sides. The nurse reached into the cabinet and pulled out a hospital gown and thin white sheet.

  “Please be sure to take everything off, even your panties and bra. Put on the gown, and this sheet is to cover up with if you feel cold,” she instructed, handing me the items. “Just have a seat on the table and the doctor will be in shortly!”

  I nodded nervously, turning in a circle to watch as she left, closing the door behind her. I set the gown down on the table and began to undress, feeling slightly uncomfortable taking my clothes off in a strange room when anyone could walk in. Nonetheless, I did it, knowing there was no turning back at this point.

  Folding my clothes, I sat them on the chair neatly and pulled the gown on. It was pink and made of crinkly paper with two small ties that barely held it shut. Thinking ahead, I tied them in simple bows, not wanting the awkwardness of having the doctor fidget with knots. There were no mirrors in the room but looking down at myself I could tell that it was bad.

  After all, the thing barely covered me and definitely did nothing to flatter my curves and DD breasts. They were almost bursting from the thin paper covering. They were so huge that I didn’t even want to think about forty-year-old me with boobs down to my waist. Maybe I would consider plastic surgery at that point.

  Plus, there was nothing in the world that could disguise my sassy hips and I was just going to have to deal with that. I am who I am and I could cry about it in a strange cold room, or get my ass up on the table and move on with my day. I was just hoping that this doctor wasn’t ninety years old with coke bottle glasses, white hair, and a judgmental stare like my regular physician.

  Carefully I stepped onto the metal stool and turned, smoothing the gown underneath me as I sat. The paper crackled noisily and my eyes fell on the cold steel of the stirrups on the sides. Immediately I felt like a farm animal in for an exam. I bit my lip and put my hands in my lap, reading over the picture of the reproductive system on the back of the room door.

  You can do this Abby. It’ll be over before you know it. Just hang tight.

  But who was this Dr. Rivington? A knock sounded and my heart pitter-pattered with nervousness.

  “Come,” I managed in a semi-normal voice.

  A low growl rang out on the other side, and the door swung open, revealing a huge, gorgeous man with laser-blue eyes and swirling tattoos beneath the cuffs of his lab coat. Oh god, this was my doctor? My temperature soared as m
y pulse raced. How would I survive the exam now?

  2

  Ryder

  “Of course, Mrs. Albertson, we’ll get your tests right over and have them back within a couple of days,” I said, reassuring the eighty-year old-woman for the fifth time. “You have a good day and I’ll see you soon.”

  Walking out of the room I hit the button on the sanitizer and rubbed it into my hands. I walked up to the nurse’s station and flipped open Mrs. Albertson’s chart, making a couple of notes inside.

  “Tests for Mrs. Albertson?” one of the nurses asked, surprised.

  I chuckled. “Just some cholesterol tests she requested. The woman eats like a rabbit, works out like a jock, and takes her vitamins like some of us drink whiskey. I’m sure everything is fine but she has them done once a year so if you could draw some blood for me and have it sent out, that would be great.”

  The nurse, Shelley, smiled with a hint of flirtation. She was always flirting but I made it a point to never date someone I worked with, even if I only worked with them for a few days. Not that she was my type. She was skinny and pretty, sure, but also tiny and frail.

  Besides, it’s not like I have the type of lifestyle conducive to relationships. I’ve been traveling around as a substitute doctor for nearly five years. As soon as I found out that this career was possible, I had my bags packed and was on the road with my trusty sportscar. I love it; I’m not tied down, nor do I have to work if I don’t want to.