“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 are 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.”
We already heard the heartbeat at the emergency room, but I don’t tell her that. I want to hear it again, so I keep my mouth shut. I watch with rapt attention as she pulls down the sheet, and pulls up Winnie’s gown, just enough to expose her belly. “This might be cold,” she warns as she spreads gel all over Winnie’s belly. “Our warmer has been acting up,” she says, taking a small machine and moving the gel all around.
Glancing down at Winnie, I don’t think either of us are breathing, for fear we might miss it. Dr. Taylor moves the wand this way and that. But still, I hear nothing. Until I do. The fast whooshing sound flows from the tiny speaker, and I swallow back the emotion clogging my throat. I was scared when she couldn’t find the heartbeat, but there it is. Fast and strong.
“Nothing’s wrong? Right?” I ask for clarification.
“Nothing. Mom and baby are perfect.” Hearing those words lifts a ton of bricks from my shoulders, and the happiness now outweighs the fear. Fear of losing one or both of them.
Leaning down, I press a soft kiss to Winnie’s lips. “Thank you. I love you so fucking much.” My voice is thick with emotion, and my eyes glassy with tears.
“We’re going to step out, give you a few minutes. You can go ahead and get changed,” Dr. Taylor says. Neither of us acknowledges her. We only have eyes for each other.