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Only for You

Page 15

by C. C. Wood


  "Just give me some time, Lee," he said. "Please. That's all I'm really asking for—time with you. Just you."

  I sniffled a little and gave a watery laugh when he handed me a tissue from Cam's desk. "Sorry, hormones. You sounded a little like my dad, who happens to be the best father I've ever had, so I got a little teary."

  J.J. grinned. "Isn't he your only father?"

  "Yes, but I tell him I'm going to trade him in for a newer model when he gives me too hard of a time."

  "Does that mean you think I'll be a good dad?" he asked. His voice was soft and a little uncertain.

  "Yeah, I do. I think you'll be a great dad. And the only one our baby has, so you better do it right or I'll trade you in, too."

  He laughed, the vulnerability fading from his expression. "Okay, then. At the risk of crossing a boundary, you need to eat before the food gets cold. I slaved over that stove for a good twenty minutes to make all this."

  I shot him a disbelieving look. "That's homemade tomato soup. No way you made it in twenty minutes."

  "Actually, I did. Found a great recipe that uses boxed tomatoes online."

  I just kept looking at him, so he rubbed the back of his neck.

  "Um, well, Mom found the recipe actually and made it for me. I just like it so much that I asked for it."

  I grinned at him. "That I do believe."

  "Jeez, you're a hard woman, Lee Prescott."

  "Lee McClane now," I pointed out.

  J.J. unwrapped my sandwich and handed it to me. "Lee McClane," he repeated.

  As we ate the meal he'd prepared, as simple as it was, I realized that I liked being Lee McClane.

  Probably a lot more than I should.

  When I got home that night, I found J.J. ensconced on the couch in the living room with a bowl of popcorn and a glass of iced tea. He was watching Longmire on Netflix.

  "Hey," I greeted him as I plopped down on the sofa beside him.

  "Hey. How was work?" he asked.

  "Busy. I finally had to run some teenagers out of the store about fifteen minutes after we were supposed to close. They got a little mouthy." I rolled my eyes and kicked off my shoes, flexing my stiff toes.

  He turned to look at me. "That happen a lot?" he asked.

  "People staying after close or mouthing off to me?"

  "Both. Either."

  I shrugged one shoulder and took a handful of his popcorn. "Occasionally on the weekends, but it's not a weekly occurrence."

  "No one's ever gotten violent or anything, right?" he asked.

  I shook my head and popped a few pieces of popcorn in my mouth. "Nope. Just rude. Usually, they straighten up when they find out I'm related to the Prescott boys."

  J.J. chuckled. "Their reputation lives on," he commented.

  "Nope," I said, shaking my head again. "The kids live in fear of them now because Clayton and Scott are both in law enforcement. They're afraid they'll get picked up and taken home by the cops and have to explain to their irate parents why that happened."

  J.J.'s head fell back as he laughed. "God, that's rich. Twenty years ago, your brothers would have been the ones in the back of the cop car, now they're driving it!"

  I munched on popcorn and laughed a little as well. "It's definitely something of a paradox."

  "Are you hungry?" he asked as I grabbed another handful of popcorn.

  "Actually, I am. It's the first time I've been truly hungry since the morning sickness started."

  "How about some guacamole and chips?" He rose, leaving the bowl of popcorn in my lap. "I can whip up the guac in five minutes or so and we can have a movie night. You don't work tomorrow morning, right?" he asked.

  I shook my head. Most of my housecleaning clients preferred for me to come during the week while they were at work. I had a shift at Crave from twelve to eight, but that was it.

  "A movie night sounds good," I said.

  True to his word, J.J. was back with a bowlful of guacamole and a bag of chips in seven minutes.

  I'd paused Longmire for him, which seemed to surprise him.

  "You don't want to watch something else?" he asked.

  "Nah. I've been meaning to watch this for a while but I rarely have enough time to binge."

  J.J. produced a can of sparkling flavored water from under his arm. "For the lady."

  I grinned up at him. "Thank you, kind sir."

  As he settled back on the couch next to me, I asked, "So this spending time together and getting to know each other is usually called dating, right?"

  J.J. twisted his head to look at me after my out-of-the-blue question. "Um, usually, yes, that's what it's called."

  "Can married people date?" I asked, dipping a chip in the guacamole. I took a bite and had to suppress a moan. It was better than my mother's though I would lie to her face if she ever asked me about it.

  "I don't see why not," J.J. said, warming to the topic now that his thoughts had a moment to catch up to why I was asking.

  "I guess I always thought married people had been through the dating stuff and were ready to stop dating and live a more settled life. Not that I'm up for extreme dating," I muttered.

  "I don't think dating has to be extreme," J.J. said. "A movie night on the couch could be a date. The dinner we ate together earlier could be a date, too."

  I mulled that over. "So we're having two dates in one night?"

  He grinned at me. "If you want."

  "I think I do," I said as I met his gaze.

  His eyes warmed. "Good. So, more Longmire?"

  "Yeah, more Longmire. Though you may have to nudge me with your elbow if you notice I'm falling asleep," I said.

  "Only because I'm going to shut it down and tell you to go to bed if that happens," he replied.

  "I guess that's fair." I took another chip and scooped guacamole into my mouth. "This is really good," I said once I was done. "Your mother's recipe as well?"

  "This one was all mine," he said. "Store-bought guacamole just doesn't taste the same."

  I had to agree.

  J.J. went back to the Longmire series page and started the first episode again and we both scooted down on the couch. He put an arm around me and I rested my head on his shoulder.

  "Now this feels like a date-type activity," I murmured as the opening credits rolled across the screen.

  His chest moved under my head as he chuckled. "At least I don't have to worry about your dad coming in and asking why in the heck all the lights are off and I'm touching his daughter," he replied.

  "That never happened," I said.

  "It would have if you'd dated in high school."

  "Fat chance of that. My brothers scared the bejeezus out of anyone who acted even remotely interested in me. If we were Catholic, I'm pretty sure they would have tried to talk me into becoming a nun."

  J.J. laughed again. "I'm kind of glad that's not the case."

  "Me, too."

  We stopped talking and focused on eating every bit of the guacamole and chips while the show continued.

  As far as first dates for a married couple went, I really liked this one.

  15

  I wanted to laugh at how uncomfortable J.J. looked in the obstetrician's office, but I couldn't.

  Mostly because I was uncomfortable myself.

  When we'd arrived, the woman behind the glass window had given me a huge stack of papers to fill out. Most of the questions were basic, but there were a few about family medical history on the father's side and I was so glad that J.J. wanted to be here because I wouldn't have had any of the answers I needed.

  Which would have looked strange considering we were married.

  I was also uncomfortable because a lot of the medical questions pertaining to me were extremely personal and I wondered if the doctor was going to ask me for further clarification in front of J.J.

  We didn't have to wait long after I turned in the longest worksheet packet I'd ever filled out.

  Within ten minutes, they called us back and sho
wed J.J. the room where he needed to wait while I peed in a cup and then went through the process of being weighed, having my blood pressure taken, and my height measured.

  "Well, you're definitely pregnant, darlin'," the nurse said as she came out of the little lab area next to the bathroom. She peeled off her gloves and washed her hands in the sink next to me. "I'm pretty sure the doctor will want to do an ultrasound today and, based on your dates, we may have to do an internal one, so you need to drink some water and fill that bladder up."

  Lovely. It made perfect sense to make me pee in a cup and then fill my bladder back up. I cracked open the bottle and drank down a third. Oh, well, I was thirsty anyway.

  The nurse seemed to read my mind. "I know it seems silly, but we like to confirm the pregnancy with a urine test and blood test and then do an ultrasound. Speaking of which, let me grab what I'll need and I'll meet you in Room 4 to draw some blood."

  I nodded and walked to the room she'd pointed out. J.J. was sitting on the edge of his seat, staring at the upper corner of the room.

  On the counter next to where he sat was a model of a uterus with a fetus inside preparing to exit the birth canal. Directly across from him was a poster-sized drawing of a uterus, fallopian tubes, and ovaries with detailed labels.

  Well, I could completely understand why he was staring at the safest spot in the room—a blank corner.

  "Wow, so now I'm worried," I said, pointing to the model on the counter.

  J.J. glanced at it out of the corner of his eye. "I have a basic understanding of how pregnancy and childbirth works but that model makes me want to apologize to you. And to my mother."

  I laughed a little and turned to the table, stopping short when I saw the cotton gown and paper blanket sitting on top.

  "Oh, joy," I muttered.

  I glanced around the room, relieved to see a pair of swinging doors at the rear of the space. A quick peek told me that it was a changing area.

  "I'll be out in a minute," I told him as I carried everything inside.

  Since the nurse mentioned an internal ultrasound, I assumed I needed to take my underwear off. I folded my clothes once I was changed and left them stacked neatly on the wooden bench on one side of the room.

  I was grateful that the gown closed in the back and wasn't going to leave me struggling not to expose myself when I walked past J.J. to the table.

  I'd just lowered my bare butt to the cold, paper-covered table, when a brisk knock sounded at the door and the nurse came in with glass tubes and a capped needle.

  She smiled at both of us. "Don't look so nervous, you two. I promise you'll enjoy your visits here. Especially when the little one is big enough for you to see their face in the ultrasounds."

  I glanced down at her nametag. She hadn't introduced herself when I came in, but I figured I'd be here pretty often over the next few months and I would need to know her name.

  Her tag read Faith Lovejoy. With the font and spacing, it almost looked as if it were one of those signs with inspirational quotes on it.

  As she wrapped a piece of rubber tubing around my arm and briskly rubbed the inside of my elbow with an alcohol pad, my eyes shot to J.J. and widened.

  He misunderstood the intent behind my look and was on his feet beside me in a split second, my other hand clasped in his.

  I inhaled sharply in an effort to control my laugh and squeezed his hand when the needle pierced my arm. I barely felt it, but J.J. seemed to think I was distressed so he continued to hold my hand as he leaned down and pressed his lips to my temple.

  "She's almost done," he murmured in my ear.

  My amusement at the nurse's name was forgotten and I inhaled again, this time slow and shaky.

  He was trying to comfort me because he thought I was scared of the needle. He was holding my hand and stroking my hair as though he loved me. Or at least cared a great deal for me.

  I didn't even feel the needle leave my arm as Faith finished the blood draw and pressed a piece of folded gauze to the puncture mark, holding it down tightly so she could wrap a flexible purple bandage around it.

  "There. You handled that very well," she said, patting my knee. "The doctor will be in shortly."

  She looked around and saw that there was only a paper blanket on the table and shook her head.

  "We keep this office so cold that won't keep you warm enough." She went to the cabinet, opened the door below the model of the fetus in utero, and pulled out a thick, woven cotton blanket. "Here you go. That'll keep you warm," she said, shaking it out and draping it over my legs.

  "Thank you," I murmured, suddenly feeling bad for being amused by her name.

  "I know it's still warm right now," she commented. "But you might want to bring some socks next time so your poor little feet don't freeze."

  "I will," I said.

  As soon as she left the room, J.J. moved around in front of me. "I didn't know you were afraid of needles," he said.

  "I'm not." I glanced down at where his hand still clasped mine. "I was just surprised when I saw her nametag."

  "Why?" he asked.

  I looked up at him and felt a smile tug at the corner of my mouth. "Because her name is Faith Lovejoy."

  He obviously didn't get why I found it funny so I let it drop, but he still didn't release my hand and go back to his seat.

  Considering how nervous I was getting, I appreciated it.

  "I'm nervous," J.J. said after a few moments of silence. "Are you nervous?"

  I swallowed. "I wasn't at first, but I am now."

  "Sorry."

  "No, not because you said that but because it's becoming more and more real by the second," I admitted.

  It cost me to confess that. I'd promised to try and open up to J.J. but it was so darn hard. I'd gotten so used to doing things for myself, by myself, that I had trouble admitting I needed help.

  I could ask for help from my mother, but asking for help from anyone else was tough. My brothers were so bossy that they would try to take over the minute I told them I had a problem. My dad wasn't that bad, but he was still a fixer. Sometimes I just needed him to listen but all he could focus on was making the problem better. Or making it go away entirely.

  And life didn't always work like that.

  Before we could continue our conversation, there were two sharp taps on the door and it opened to reveal Dr. Stubens the Younger.

  Dr. Stubens the Elder was my mother's OB-GYN and he had delivered all my brothers and me. His daughter, Dr. Eleanor Stubens, was in her forties. Her father had been my first gynecologist. He was a hoot and his daughter didn't fall too far from the tree. She'd worked by his side for over a decade and then taken over his practice when he retired two years ago.

  She actually made my yearly pap smears tolerable with her sunny smile, warm disposition, and tendency to laugh about anything and everything on God's green earth.

  "Good morning, Lee!" she greeted me with a bright smile. "I hear congratulations times two are in order."

  I returned her smile. "Yes, I got married a couple of weeks ago. I don't know if you remember J.J. McClane."

  She grinned at him. "I certainly do. Congratulations, J.J. On the marriage, the baby, and surviving what was surely an intimidating gauntlet put forth by her brothers."

  I rolled my eyes. Dr. Stubens had no idea.

  "Hi, Eleanor," J.J. said.

  I turned to stare at him. He called her by her first name like they were old pals.

  He felt my gaze and looked down at me, the corners of his eyes crinkling as he grinned.

  "Eleanor used to babysit me."

  "Don't repeat that anywhere but here," Dr. Stubens demanded. "If you say it in public then everyone will remember how old I really am."

  "I have no idea what you're talking about," J.J. said.

  Dr. Stubens shook her head at him but focused on me once again. "Well, you've had quite a bit of upheaval in your personal life this year, haven't you? I didn't even realize the two of you were dati
ng."

  My face heated but I forced myself not to look at J.J. Dr. Stubens might be fun and hilarious, but she was smart and sharp. She would see right through that exchange of eye contact.

  Though she probably already had a very good idea that we'd gotten married because I'd gotten pregnant.

  "So based on the timing you've listed, you believe you're approximately twelve weeks along, correct?" she asked.

  "Yes."

  "Have you been taking prenatal vitamins?" she asked.

  I nodded. "I'm not sure how many stayed down the last month or so, though. The morning sickness was more like all-day sickness and I had trouble eating."

  "That happens more often than people realize. How's the nausea now?" she asked.

  "A lot better. I'm still queasy in the mornings but I usually feel fine once I have some toast and tea."

  "Are you limiting your caffeine intake?" she asked.

  I sighed and nodded. "Yes. Believe me, everyone in the family is keeping a close eye on how much caffeine I consume." I shot J.J. the side-eye. "My brothers and this one tried to talk me into giving it up completely, which I will do if it's necessary, but everything I've read indicates that a small amount of caffeine a day is okay for the...the baby."

  I still wasn't used to saying those words. The baby. As if he or she were real. You'd think after all the throwing up I'd done over the past month or so that it would seem real already, but it didn't.

  Dr. Stubens nodded and gave J.J. a reproving look. "A cup of tea or even one cup of coffee per day should be fine. Once I give her a more thorough examination today, I should have a better idea if she needs to avoid it."

  J.J.'s fingers squeezed mine gently and I glanced up at him. He wasn't looking at me but he was smiling slightly.

  "Yes, ma'am."

  "Oh, zip it," she groused. "Now, you're actively trying to make me feel old. Okay, Lee, lie back and assume the position."

  I swallowed hard and leaned back on the table.

  "Do you want me to leave the room?" J.J. asked me.

  As I was shaking my head, Dr. Stubens said, "That won't be necessary. Stay right up there by Lee and hold her hand."

  I scooted and wiggled until my butt was on the edge of the table and I put my feet in the stirrups that Dr. Stubens folded out.

 

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