Harrison turns his face, kissing the inside of my palm. “I’ll wear them all the time if you’d like.”
A small smile plays on my lips. “That’s not necessary, but I wanted you to know how handsome you look.”
“More than just a gym rat?” he teases.
“You were never just a gym rat, but they do make you look more distinguished. Very debonair.”
Now he snorts a laugh. “I don’t think I’ve been called debonair a day in my life,” he adds, taking my hands in his and bringing them to his chest.
“That’s a shame,” I tell him, loving the way my heart beats a heavy pattern in my chest. It reminds me of that first time I saw him, and the next several times we talked. With our busy school schedules, we actually talked on the phone for an entire week before our first date. Those days were filled with short conversations between classes and text updates while studying. I looked forward to our communications, and craved those late-night talk sessions.
“Have you called your boss yet?” he asks, interrupting my walk down memory lane.
“Uhh, no, not yet. I was going to send her an email later. I need to line up a sub for Monday.”
“And Tuesday. Actually, just take the whole week off,” Harrison instructs, leaving no room for negotiation.
“Umm, excuse me?”
“The doctor said to take it easy for a few days.”
I give him my best “teacher” look and reply, “Yes, a few days; not an entire week. There’s no reason for me to be off that long. I’m fine.”
“Through Wednesday, then.” Harrison steeples his fingers at his nose, as if he’s in a business meeting. Well, sorry, buster, but I’m not a business arrangement or contract in need of negotiating.
“I’ll take two days. I need to call my doctor tomorrow anyway for an appointment. Hopefully they can get me in Tuesday.”
Harrison sighs deeply. “You’re not going to budge on this, are you?”
I shake my head.
Again, he exhales. “Fine, through Tuesday. I’m going to the doctor though.”
Smiling happily that he conceded, I squeeze his hands. “Thank you, and yes, I’ll let you know as soon as I have an appointment set. I can call you,” I add, getting up off my knees and instantly feeling the need to use the restroom again.
I head toward the hallway when he replies. “No need. I’ll be staying here.”
Well, that stops me in my tracks.
“Excuse me?” I ask, startled, turning around and staring at the man taking over my easy chair. He’s reading the book again, or at least thumbing through it as if he were.
“I’m staying here,” he comments casually, as if no big deal.
“For today.”
“For a while.”
“We’ve talked about this. I agreed to let you stay for a very short term. One night, tops. Remember?”
He smirks over the top of the paperback. “I recall.” Then he returns his attention to the book, essentially dismissing me.
“You’re not staying here, Harrison. We’re divorced,” I state, crossing my arms over my chest. No, it’s not the end of the world if he stays here, but it just makes the muddy water even murkier. The problem is that I’ll start to enjoy having him here again, and eventually, he’ll head back to his place, leaving me behind. That thought is just depressing, really.
“We’ll see,” he says, giving his attention back to the book.
I groan in frustration and head to the bathroom to do my business. As I wash my hands, I can’t help but stare at the reflection in the mirror. I don’t look any different, but I definitely feel it. My hands instantly drop to my flat stomach, much like they did in the shower earlier. There’s a miracle growing inside me. Our miracle, even though I thought that ship had long sailed.
I just pray we’re strong enough to weather the storm this time around.
On Monday morning, after a quick phone call to my regular OB/GYN, I’m scheduled for an appointment that afternoon. As soon as I mentioned the accident and spotting, they insisted on squeezing me in as soon as they could. I’m thankful as I think this appointment will go a long way at calming my nerves. Sure, they’ll still be there, but I’m hoping they’ll be able to confirm that everything is going to be okay.
“Gwendolyn,” the nurse says into the packed waiting room of pregnant women. They come in every stage of pregnancy, some not showing, like me, and a few very close to their due date.
Harrison stands up and places his hand under my elbow. He guides me through the room to where the nurse smiles warmly. Her eyes seem a little brighter now that she’s gotten a good look at my husband—err, ex-husband. I want to tell her I get it. He’s totally adorable. But I keep quiet, and maybe lean into him a little closer.
“Let’s check your weight first, and then you can step into the restroom and give us a urine sample,” she says, glancing over my shoulder once to check out the man behind me. Okay, now it’s a little annoying.
I’ve never been self-conscious about my weight, but there’s something unnerving about stepping on the scale in front of Harrison and the nurse with wandering eyes. That number is only going to keep going up. For good reason, mind you, but I won’t dwell on it since the reason will be well worth it.
“I’ll escort Dad into the room. You can step across the hall and give us a sample. When you’re done, place it in the small door on the wall for us to collect. Come to exam room four when you’re finished,” the nurse says, smiling brightly.
I take care of business, place the cup in the little window, wash my hands, and head out to room four. As I approach the door, I can hear laughter. “I thought you looked familiar! I’ll be sure to stop in on my lunch break.”
“Do that. I’m sure one of our personal trainers will be more than willing to add you as a client,” Harrison says. I push open the door and find him standing in the corner, his arms crossed over his chest in a guarded manner.
“You don’t take on new clients?” the flirty nurse asks, not noticing I’ve entered the room.
“Not at this time. I have a great staff though, and I’m sure we can find someone who fits your needs,” he replies, noticing me for the first time.
“His staff is wonderful,” I say, entering the room completely and not closing the door behind me. “You’re sure to find someone else who’s amazing to work with.”
The nurse gives me a sheepish grin and drops her eyes. “I’m sure. I’ll stop by and sign up,” she says, looking down at my chart. “Dr. Taylor will be in shortly to talk to you before she does the exam,” she adds. Then she’s gone.
“I hate her.”
Harrison snorts. “Stop it. She was just asking about training since she saw my newspaper ads the other day.”
“She was totally wanting you to train her… and not in exercise.” He raises his eyebrow in response to my statement. I sigh deeply. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said anything. Who you train is none of my business.”
And then he moves, caging me against the exam table with his arms, wrapping me in the comfort of his scent. “Anything to do with me is your business, Winnie. I’m not training her because I just don’t have the time, but I’m also not training her because she makes you uncomfortable. End of story.”
“It’s really none of my business,” I repeat, averting my eyes and trying to hop up on the table, which is difficult considering how close he’s standing. He grabs me by the armpits and lifts, setting me effortlessly down on the table. I hate that I feel so jealous. I’ve never been a jealous woman, mostly because, when we were together, I knew he only had eyes for me. But now, I have no right to feel jealous about anything or anyone, not when I was the one who initiated the divorce.
Still doesn’t make that bitter pill any easier to swallow.
As soon as I’m situated on the table, he leans forward, placing his hands on either side of my hips, and lightly brushes them with his thumbs. “Do you know why it matters?”
I can’t answer,
so I shake my head.
“It matters because you’re the only one who matters. The. Only. One. The fact that you’re a little jealous only reiterates the fact that we belong together, baby. You and me. And Peanut. Ever since I saw you in that library, I’ve only had eyes for you. Nothing has changed, even after we split. So don’t think that any of that was none of your business, because it most certainly is. You are my business. My priority,” he whispers, running his nose along my jawline. I can’t believe how quickly my body starts to heat at the slightest touch.
“I wasn’t jealous,” I whisper, my words all breathy.
Harrison snorts a laugh. “Were too.”
“I wasn’t, but if I was, it’s only because you’re so pretty to look at and everyone notices you.”
“Guys aren’t pretty,” he clarifies. “But if I was, it wouldn’t matter, because my eyes are on you, the most gorgeous woman in the world, who just so happens to be carrying my baby.”
“And is your ex-wife.”
“Semantics.”
I give him a small smile, feeling slightly better at that ugly green monster that reared its head a few moments ago. He doesn’t move, just stays standing between my knees and touching my face with his. It’s comforting and familiar. After a few minutes, I relax into his neck, missing the way his body was seemingly made for mine. We fit, like puzzle pieces.
“Oh, Gabby is bringing dinner over tonight. She’s stopping by after work.”
“Fine. Chase is coming over too. We have some business to discuss, and he’s stopping by my apartment to grab me some clothes.”
“Chase and Gabby in the same room? Together? We better hide the breakables,” I tease, though it’s not really much of a joke. For some reason, Harrison’s best friend and my sister have never really gotten along. It’s like mixing oil and water. From day one, they’ve butted heads. At first, it was annoying, but now it’s almost comical. They both seem to do everything they can to push each other’s buttons.
“They’ll be fine, babe. Besides, nothing short of a nuclear attack is going to dampen my mood. Today, we get to find out more about our baby,” he says. Harrison has always had a way with words. He knows just how to make me melt like butter.
He places a kiss on my forehead just as a knock sounds on the door. “Good afternoon, Gwendolyn. Are you ready to check on your baby?” Dr. Taylor asks as she enters the exam room.
Before I can answer, Harrison turns to face her, extends his hand, and says, “Harrison Drake, father. And yes, we’re definitely ready to see our baby.”
Chapter 9
Harrison
Dr. Taylor shakes my hand and then turns her attention to Winnie.
“Gwendolyn, congratulations.” She smiles kindly. “How have you been feeling?” she asks, glancing from the computer on the small counter.
“Good. Some mild cramping—” Winnie starts to explain, and I stop her.
“What? You told me you were feeling better?” I knew I should have refused to let her do anything for herself. Not even two days into knowing about this pregnancy and I’m already failing her.
“Hey.” Her voice is soothing as her small hand cups my cheek. “I’m okay. Promise.” Green eyes stare back at me, imploring me to trust her. “As I was saying,” she drops her hand and turns to look at Dr. Taylor, “some mild cramping, but the spotting has stopped,” she says. Immediately, I take a deep breath, releasing some of my tension.
Unable to help myself, I lean in and kiss her temple.
“That’s wonderful news. Some cramping is normal during pregnancy, especially with your first. Says here you are about five weeks along. We’re going to do another transvaginal ultrasound today to make sure everything is still looking good. We’ll run some blood work as well. Your urine sample came back positive.” She laughs. “But we already knew that. Then we’ll use the Doppler and see if we can hear your baby’s heartbeat. Don’t be alarmed if we can’t. It’s still early. Usually, it’s around the ten-to-twelve-week mark when we can start to detect it. We always try though.” She smiles at both of us. “Go ahead and get into your gown, lay the blanket over your lap. I’ll be back in a couple of minutes.” She stands and leaves the room without another word.
“Uh, Harrison,” Winnie says hesitantly once the door is closed.
She’s nervous. “I’ve had my lips on every inch of your skin. There’s not a single curve I don’t have memorized.” Her eyes turn molten as she bites down on her bottom lip. “When I told you I was going to be here, I meant it. I’m not leaving.” Stepping between her legs, my hands grip the hem of her shirt. “Arms up, baby.” She raises her arms and lets me remove her shirt. Hands under her arms, I lift her from the exam table and set her on her feet. My hands go to the button on her shorts, my eyes never leaving hers. “Step,” I say, once I have her shorts and panties around her ankles. My voice is thick as I battle with my hormones. I’m a randy teenager anytime she’s near. Resting her hands on my shoulders, she steps out.
Unable to help myself, I place my hands on her bare hips and press my lips just above her belly button. I feel her hands in my hair, so I look up to find her watching me. She’s smiling down at me. My heart rate kicks into overdrive. She takes my breath away. I thought I’d lost her, and now here we are. Something passes between us. It’s not anything that I can name, but it’s strong and steady.
Just like us.
I’ll make damn sure of it.
Standing back to my full height, I grab the gown from the table and help her into it. My hands find their way to her flat belly, and it’s surreal that our baby is growing inside her. I can’t seem to stop touching her and can’t wait until she starts to show. The proof of the life we created evident. She takes her place back on the exam table, pulling me out of my thoughts. Reaching for the thin white blanket, I cover her up, but not before tracing her naked thigh with my index finger. She sucks in a breath, and that alone fuels my desire.
Knowing the doctor could walk in any second, I pull away and move to stand next to her, trying like hell to forget about her naked body under the thin material.
“This was a bad idea,” she whispers as my lips connect with her forehead.
“Why’s that?” I ask. I know why it was a bad idea, but I want to hear her say it. I need to hear her say it.
“Because Dr. Taylor is going to come back in here and she’s going to know that I’m turned on.”
Son of a bitch. Her confession ramps up my desire. “If we’re not careful, she’s going to know we both are,” I say, shifting my stance to make room for my growing erection.
“Seems fair.” She giggles.
Unable to resist, I bend down and kiss the corner of her mouth. “When we get home, I’ll make the ache go away,” I promise.
“Harrison…” My name is a whispered plea, doing nothing to douse the desire coursing through my veins. She meant it as a warning but missed the mark. Why should we both suffer? I can take care of her, in every way.
“Winnie,” I counter.
“Knock, knock,” Dr. Taylor says, entering the exam room and leaving Winnie no time to reply. “This is Kim, and she’s going to be performing the ultrasound. Do either of you have any questions?”
Winnie looks up at me and I shake my head. “No, we’re good,” she replies to Dr. Taylor.
The next few minutes are a flurry of activity. Dr. Taylor tells Winnie to lie back on the exam table and place her feet in the stirrups. Then she tells her to move farther down on the table. Her legs are spread wide, as are my eyes. My grip on her hand is strong as I watch Dr. Taylor pull back the blanket, which is more of a thin sheet, and expose my girl to them.
“This might be a little cold,” Alison says, holding up what looks like a dildo.
“Uh—” I start, but Dr. Taylor is quick to assure me that it’s completely safe for both my wife and our baby. I nod and after a quick glance at Winnie, decide to keep my mouth shut. She’s not worried about what they’re doing to her. No, her eyes ar
e glued to the screen, the one that will show us our peanut. It’s not that it’s unsafe, but that has to be uncomfortable for her. I know they used the same method at the ER, but I just thought that was because they just found out she was pregnant. Obviously I have a lot to learn.
The room is quiet, except for Alison clicking buttons on a keyboard. “A little pressure,” she warns Winnie, but it’s as if she doesn’t hear her. Her eyes are still glued to the screen.
“There,” Dr. Taylor speaks up. “See that small flutter—” She points to the screen. In the center of a little black blob is a tiny flutter. “That’s your baby’s heartbeat.”
“Wow.” I bring our joined hands to my lips and kiss her knuckles, all while leaning in closer to get a better look at the screen. The blob is small, but the flutter is fast. The last time we were in this position, I was still processing the fact that we were having a baby. This time, I’m soaking it all up like a sponge.
“That’s normal, right? For the heartbeat to be that fast?” I ask her. I know the Emergency Room doctor assured us, but babies aren’t their specialty. Call me paranoid, but it never hurts to get a second opinion.
“Yes, currently it’s one hundred and forty-six beats per minute. Right in the middle, nice and strong,” she assures me.
“Measuring right at six weeks,” Alison says. She pushes a few more buttons. “I took some pictures for you,” she adds, removing the wand from between Winnie’s legs, and the screen goes black. Winnie pulls the cover back over her lap so that she’s no longer exposed.
Dr. Taylor reaches under the table and extends it. “You can take your feet down,” she instructs Winnie. She does as she’s told. “Now, the fun part. As I said, don’t be alarmed if we don’t hear the heartbeat. It’s still early, but I like to try, it’s an experience you will always remember.”
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