Marrying My Billionaire Hookup

My fluttery heart does an odd cartwheel and arabesque and leaps around in my chest, making me achy and unable to speak.

“She’s brilliant, so beautiful,” Edgar says, his voice raw.

“I told you it’s a boy.” That’s so much easier to say than telling him how much his reaction means to me. How it’s creating a deep connection between us.

I take the only empty seat left in the room. Edgar reaches over and threads his fingers through mine, our palms touching. I swear I can feel his pulse through his warm, bare skin.

Dr. Silverman laughs. “Well. We won’t know the gender for a while, although it looks like you two have different ideas about what you want.”

“I’d prefer a girl who takes after Jo, but I’ll be perfectly happy with a boy.” Edgar smiles.

I’ve seen a lot of smiles in my life. Friendly smiles. Fake smiles. Protective smiles. Maternal and paternal smiles. But this one from Edgar is so bright and beautiful that it feels like sunlight after a long, dark storm.

And I can’t even take a breath over the hot emotions churning inside me.

Dr. Silverman grins. “Good. I put everything in a handbook, including your due date.”

I accept a gorgeous green and yellow binder from her. It’s fairly small, but has lots of photo album pages to put in your ultrasound pictures. She’s already put in the first one with today’s date and the due date. I do some quick math. Eight months and two days.

When I got the result from the pregnancy test kit, it didn’t quite sink in that I was going to have a baby. Not for a while. But seeing the picture and dates makes it all too real.

Edgar places a kiss on my temple. “Thank you.”

Nodding, I put a hand over my belly. There’s a life growing inside me for the next eight months or so at least. And it’s my job to nurture it and ensure he’s safe and sound.

Dr. Silverman folds her hands. “Do you have any questions?”

“Can you tell me if Jo’s cleared for regular activities?” Edgar asks.

My cheeks heat. I know where this is going.

Dr. Silverman doesn’t seem fazed. She looks at me. “You’re cleared. And regular, moderate exercise will be good for the baby, so I recommend that. Eat healthy—protein, carbs, some good fat. There’s a section on nutrition in the notebook, but if you have any questions, please call or text me. My information is on the first page.” She glances at Edgar and smiles. “And yes, you can have sex. Just don’t get too…rough or experimental.”

The way she says “rough” makes me curious. “Do a lot of pregnant couples indulge in, ah, rough sex in your experience?”

“You’d be surprised.” She makes a whip-cracking noise and snaps her wrist. “You know.”

I stare, torn between laughter and horror. The doctor’s so proper, and has such a sweet, conservative appearance, one that implies she was a very studious girl in high school and college. But that gesture, and the sound effect… They’re so incongruous that it actually leaves me speechless.

Edgar closes his eyes briefly, but doesn’t say anything. Maybe he’s been stunned into submission as well.

She adds, “One woman was paddled during her second trimester. Then put on her stomach for intercourse. Not the best combination, especially when the husband was lying on her. Just…use common sense.” A bright “move along, nothing to see here” smile.

I probably shouldn’t probe, but I can’t help it. “Was the baby okay?”

“Yes, but the activities caused some bleeding and a little scare. Not good for the mother to be stressed like that. Stress hormones have negative consequences for the mother’s health, and the mother’s health is paramount for the health of the baby, obviously.”

Edgar clears his throat. “Well, then—”

“Of course, people who are into that sort of thing report that a good paddling can normally be great for stress relief. But with a baby in the picture…”

“Right. Yes, thank you.” Edgar stands, placing a restraining hand on my shoulder. He’s probably afraid I’ll ask another question.

“Please make a follow-up appointment with the receptionist on your way out,” Dr. Silverman says. “Congratulations again.”

Chapter Thirty-Seven

Jo