I didn’t want to calm down, I wanted blood. “I don’t like her,” I mumbled into his chest, feeling it shake against my face. “If you’re laughing, I’ll twist your nipple off.”
“Is now the time to tell you piece of news number three?”
Tilting my head back to glare up at him, I jerked my head to tell him to get on with it.
“Mom found you an OB/GYN who came highly recommended in Sarasota. He’s on Arlington Street, about a twenty-minute drive from here, and came highly recommended.”
“Why’s that bad news?”
“You’ve got an appointment in just over an hour to meet him and get a checkup. I saw the text after I hung up from Noah and had to prioritize what to tell you first.” He at least had the decency to look sheepish about it.
Sighing, I saluted him. “Okie Dokie, boss man. I better go and get ready.”
Before I could pull away, though, he was pulling me in for a last kiss. This time it was slow, sweet, and made my toes curl.
“No matter what’s thrown at us, we’ve got this, pixie.”
Yeah, I just hoped they caught Orson and that bitch Shonelle soon. I hated that we were at a crossroads in our relationship, heading to something better than most people had, and we couldn’t enjoy it without worrying about what call we were going to get next. And it’s not exactly like I could go up and punch Shonelle if I saw her, I was pregnant, for Christ’s sake.
Maybe I could kick her in her lying Helen Hunt, though?Elijah had been quiet the whole drive to the OB/GYN, chewing his lip as he stewed over something. I’d assumed it was the news about Shonelle and that he was taking a couple of minutes to come to terms with it, but when he’d parked up in the parking lot in front of the building we were due to go into, he’d turned to face me.
“Do you think we can still have sex when you’re pregnant?”
Checking to make sure he was serious, I almost choked on the gum I’d be gnawing on when I saw he was. “Why wouldn’t we be able to?”
And if he said about his dick size, so help me God…
Frowning, he stared down at where his fingernail was mauling the knee of his jeans. Yeah, jeans in this heat. Nutter. “I heard somewhere that having sex brings on labor and contractions. What if it does it before the baby’s ready?”
Knowing there was only one way to put his mind at ease—well, two if you include Google—I reached over and squeezed his hand. “Let’s ask the doctor and see what they say. They’re the ones who know about this stuff, so who better to ask?”
Please don’t say Google. Please don’t say Google.
So, that’s what we did. The doctor was friendly and seemed to know his stuff, and when he saw my yellow file and all of the readings from the hospital in Gonzales, he’d agreed with the diagnosis, medicine, and advice given.
When he’d taken a tape measure and measured my stomach from pelvis to some point only he understood, he’d noted that I was measuring fifteen weeks and one day, which fit with my scan dates if you added on the five days since we’d had it done.
He’d also booked us in for a checkup scan the following week and told us we could find out the gender of the baby during it. Judging by the excitement in Elijah’s eyes, he wanted to do that, so in seven days, we’d know if we were having a girl or a boy.
It was after he’d asked if we had any other questions that Elijah had blushed and finally brought it up. Thankfully it wasn’t rare for couples to ask the question, and even better, we were good to go on the sex front. I think having a doctor close by also put his mind at ease like he could relax his worries because there was someone who knew everything about pregnancies near us now.
As we walked out to the car, Elijah said with false casualness, “You’ve got a little bump.”
Looking around me at my backside, I tried to see what he was talking about. “Where?”
Unlocking the doors and opening mine for me, he helped me into the truck. “On your stomach. When you lay down for him to measure you, there’s the smallest little bump right here,” he put his hand over the bottom of my stomach. “It’s adorable.”
Pulling my seatbelt around me as I tried not to melt into a puddle on the chair with the heat inside the vehicle, I pouted, “I couldn’t see it. My boobs were in the way.”
Most women want huge breasts, but if you’ve got them, it’s hell. I could list the issues with them all day long, including back pain, but my new one was that I couldn’t see a damn thing over them while I was lying down, so I’d missed the supposed bump.