After leaving her at her door, because that’s what good boys do, Judge and I walk back down the sidewalk.
“You gonna check on Emo before heading home?”
I jingle the change in my pocket. “I’ve got a patient to check on first, then I’ll head over there.”
He tilts his head to the house coming up. “I’ll do it. I just need to grab something inside first. You take care of your patient.”
I nod. “Let me know if I need to come by. Make sure he puts alcohol on that hand.”
“See you tomorrow.”
He veers off to the left, heading up his driveway. I continue on my way to Susan’s. I didn’t tell Judge that Miss Stone was the patient I needed to check on. Stress levels are already high tonight. There’s no need to add more by reminding him of the outsider we have in our midst.
Unconsciously, an image of the beautiful brunette comes to mind, and her reaction to me yesterday when I stepped into her room in my office. Wide deep blue eyes, lips parted slightly, and red tinting her cheeks. I felt her allure toward me like it was a tangible thing.
When I arrived at The Hill yesterday, after receiving the phone call from Meryl, I was shocked by the instant attraction I felt toward our unexpected visitor. Luckily for me, she was unconscious, so I had time to compose myself before officially meeting her. It sure as shit didn’t mean my dick wasn’t a steel rod in my jeans the entire time I stood in that room. Even her very pregnant belly didn’t stop the desire to see what her lips, and other parts of her body, tasted like.
Last night, when I stopped by Susan’s to check on her, she was asleep. I stood in the room for a good five minutes, just looking at her, before I realized what I was doing and snapped myself out of my daze. Carefully, and hoping I didn’t wake her, I checked her blood pressure, temperature, and the baby’s heartbeat. She didn’t move a muscle during my exam, and if it wasn’t for her normal vital signs, I would have been concerned. She was either tired beyond exhaustion, or a very heavy sleeper. Probably a combination of both.
Why in the fuck would a woman in her position put herself and her baby at risk like that?
I look down at my dick, which has decided to wake up and say hello at the thought of seeing Miss Stone again, and silently curse the stupid bastard.
“Not fuckin’ happening,” I mutter to him.
Thankfully, Miss Stone will soon be on her way and she’ll become a distant memory.
REMI
I SET MY GLASS OF TEA on the table beside me then fold one foot under my leg and use the other to rock the glider I’m sitting on. The sky is a pretty dark purple, and the air is fresh with a slight breeze, keeping the heat from being overwhelming. I’m no stranger to high temperatures or humidity—growing up in Mississippi, it’s something you’re born accustomed to—but the heat in Texas is different. It’s drier. You don’t know you’re sweating until you’re already drenched.
Several people have walked by on the street over the last few minutes, giving me looks that suggests they aren’t happy with me being here, and this situation reminds me of the scenario I envisioned yesterday when Susan and I first got here. Except in my head, I visualized the people being friendly, not on the verge of hostile.
Susan’s been nice, but she seems different than yesterday. Anxious and on edge.
Thankfully, I felt much better when I woke this morning. I was surprised I slept for so long. The last couple of months have been extremely stressful and it’s affected my sleep, only allowing me to get a few hours a night, meaning me and naps have become best friends.
I look up when I hear gravel crunch and my heart does a little flip when I spot Dr. Trayce coming up the driveway. I curse my body when a zap of awareness hits me in parts that haven’t been active in a long time. Then dark memories try to surface with that thought, so I rub my swollen stomach where Bubba rests to remind me of the only good thing that came from that horrible day.
Noticing the glider has stopped, I push against the porch again just as Dr. Trayce ascends the steps. He stops and leans his ass against the railing, appearing relaxed, but I still see the rigidness in his shoulders.
“Good evening, Miss Stone. Feeling better today?”
I tip my lips up, hoping to set him at ease. “I’m better, thank you. And please, call me Remi. When you say Miss Stone, I think of my mother.”
Points for me when I see his lips twitch.
“You aren’t married?” he asks, his eyes briefly falling to my stomach.
His question knocks me off guard and it takes effort to keep the smile from slipping from my face.
“No, I’m not married.”
“Hmm… Interesting.” Before I get the chance to ask him what’s interesting about me not being married, he asks another question. “Do you know what you’re having?”
My smile is genuine once again. “A boy.”
“Have any names picked out yet?”