Pierced Hearts (Southern Charmers 1)

“Because I know.”

“Pierce is right. All your labs look on track, and I think taking a look will help with your concern.” Dr. Jenkins gloves up and grabs the long wand attached to the machine at Darby’s side. I’ve been through this before and know I have to let her go to lay back, but fuck if I want her out of my arms right now.

Reluctantly, I slide away, laying her down and keeping her hand tucked in mine.

“Relax, Darby, and you shouldn’t feel much pressure if we’re right about our timing.”

I wince watching the wand disappear under the cloth, knowing where it’s going.

“We could do an abdominal ultrasound as well, but this could tell us what we need to know right now,” Jenkins rattles on as my heart rate soars. This may be common to her, but our world is about to change.

Her voice fades off as a loud whoosh-whoosh fills the air, and it all comes into view. Our child. So small and so beautiful at the same time. A racing heartbeat thrums through the room.

“Yep, the baby looks fine,” Dr. Jenkins confirms, leaning toward the screen. “Wait.” She clicks a few buttons, zooming in and squinting. “Never mind.”

“What the hell?” I roar. “Never mind what?”

“I thought I saw another ticker, but it is a finger. I can never be too careful, knowing Darby has a high chance of carrying twins.

I glance down at her and wink. “Maybe next time.”

I howl when Darby wrenches her hand free and punches me low, grazing close to my cock.

“Don’t even joke. Pierce, I’m serious. This will be our only one if you start thinking about twins.”

I don’t stop the smile that spreads, not replying.

“Can you stay for a bit? I’m going to get the sonographer in here for a more detailed exam. Plus, you need to set up a series of appointments.”

She talks to Darby, and I recognize a few of the terms, but it’s like a whole new experience. Staring at what she’s pointing to on the screen, I fall into the chair, laying my chin on Darby’s shoulder and paying close attention.

“In my medical opinion, this fetus is around eleven weeks, three days.”

“How can you be so precise?” I question.

“Because I’ve been doing this long enough to pinpoint within a few days.”

I mentally calculate back and know exactly. “April eighth.” The day Darby came home. We married six weeks later.

This most likely happened in her new office.

I glance at her and can see she shares the thought.

The next hour is a whirlwind of ultrasounds, more blood tests, and a long session assuring Darby the baby seems fine. But it isn’t until I mention our active sex life that Darby’s worry lines ease, and she bursts into laughter. As we leave the office, I’m ready to conquer the world.

“When we get home, you’re going to lie down, and we’re going to talk about your schedule. You’re going to have to cut back,” I tell her when we’re in the truck.

“We can’t go straight home. We need to swing by the resort and the bakery.”

“This is what I’m talking about. You can’t keep these long hours and grueling days.”

“We have plenty of time to argue about my schedule over the next few months. For today though, I need to grab my laptop and get an idea of the event schedule. Renee keeps a master calendar. With this baby due during the holidays, I’ve got to get my life in order.”

I nod and pull her to me for a quick kiss before driving in the direction of the bakery.

“How do you want to tell our families?”

“I want to wait,” she surprises me.

“Why?”

“Just until after the testing comes back. I’ll pay for a rush on the results, but we have to be able to keep the secret for at least another few weeks.”

I study her, understanding why. She wants to pass the fourteen-week mark. “Whatever you want.”

“And I’d like you to bar our doors and keep my parents away. Mom is going to know the second she sees me.”

“You got it.”

She holds my hand and stares at the dozen pictures. “This time, it’s different,” she admits softly.

“How so?” I have a feeling what she’s going to say but need to hear it.

“The baby actually looks developed, healthy, strong.”

“I agree.”

“Is it stupid to think he’s smiling?”

“He?”

“Uhhh, yeah. Did you not catch the little rod in this picture?” She waves the grainy shot at me.

No, I didn’t catch it because my eyes were glued to my glowing wife. “I can promise you, if it’s a he, it’s not a little rod.”

She throws her head back, shaking until tears run down her face. “You are such a guy!” she gasps.

“I’m a man, baby, and in about five minutes, I’m going to be the man buried inside you.”