Sweet Home (Sweet Home 1)

My friends, after accepting that I wasn’t going to have a major baby-based meltdown, let themselves be excited for us both, if not understandably a little concerned, and promised to keep the news to themselves. I also informed Professor Ross, who was, let’s just say, shocked—actually, that was putting it mildly—but she’d been a pillar of support and was trying to help me figure out a way to continue my academic studies after the baby was born. Other than that, no one else would know until we were out of the first trimester and I couldn’t hide it any longer.

Life was suddenly crazy, but being pregnant wasn’t as scary as I’d originally thought.

I’d made an appointment with the OB-GYN and, due to my mother’s complications in her pregnancy, which ultimately resulted in her death, I was told to come in immediately for a thorough check-up. Romeo dipped into his trust fund, paying for only the best doctor, so unlike most mere mortals, we would probably see our baby a lot earlier than normal.

Romeo and I were sitting in the sterile waiting room surrounded by heavily pregnant women of all ages and hyper, screaming kids crawling around our feet—that was enough to scare the crap out of us both, and by the amused looks on the other parents’ faces, our fear was evident.

I was in the middle of giggling at Romeo, who was staring at a little boy in the midst of a full-blown toddler strop, whispering, “Jesus Christ,” under his breath, when I heard my name.

“Molly Shakespeare?” A young, plump nurse called out to the room.

I held up my hand. “Yes, here.”

She smiled kindly. “If you’d like to follow me this way please, the doctor will see you now.”

I inhaled, looked at Rome, and grimaced. He laughed and patted my leg. “Come on, Shakespeare. Nothin’ to be afraid of.”

“Yeah right, five seconds ago I thought you were ready to throw yourself out the window to get away from the high decibel whines of that kid.”

“He just floored me with his persistence. But if he were mine, that wouldn’t happen. It’ll be easy.”

I snickered in his ear. “You’re dreaming if you believe that, but at least you do have an easy time at the birth. You’re not the one that’s going to have to push something out the size of a watermelon through a gap the size of a coin.”

Laying his hand on his heart, he said, “I’d do it for you if I could, baby.”

“Ha! Sure you would.”

Discreetly squeezing my arse, Rome ordered, “Get in there momma-to-be and quit stallin’.”

Romeo took my hand and we followed the nurse into a typical medical room—desk, patient bed, guest plastic chairs.

The nurse handed me a blue gown. “Slip this on, darlin’, and the doctor will be straight through.”

She left the room and I walked to the curtained-off changing area. Romeo stood too. I laid my hand on his chest. “Erm, where the hell do you think you’re going?”

Putting his hands flat on my back, he proceeded to push me forward. “Comin’ with you.”

I slapped his hands away. “Get back over there! How embarrassing! They’ll think something is going on!”

Rome’s lush mouth went to my ear and he ran his hands down my waist, just seductive enough to earn an eager sigh from my throat. “Get in there, Shakespeare, shut up talkin’ back to me, and let me undress you.”

My eyes closed involuntary, his attitude making me more turned on than ever. Then again, pregnancy seemed to be having that effect on me. I’d had him in more ways than I could remember in the last week.

Romeo pulled the curtain shut and began stripping me of my jacket and jeans with lust in his eyes.

When I was naked before him, he pressed a soft kiss on my lips, neck, and finally on my stomach before standing and helping me fix my gown.

“You’re going to be an overbearing nightmare for the next several months, aren’t you?” I teased as I traced his lips with my fingertip.

He shrugged, sucking the digit in his mouth. “I just wanna make sure everythin’s all right with you and the baby.”

I kissed him chastely and slid back the curtain, only to see the middle-aged doctor sitting and waiting for us with an amused grin. The good doctor, at least, tried to hide his mirth as I blushed.

He stood and held out his hand. “You must be Molly. I’m Dr. Adams.”

“Nice to meet you, Doctor Adams. This is my boyfriend, Romeo.”

Romeo held out his hand and the doctor’s face brightened. “Nice to meet you, Bullet. I’m a big fan—season ticket holder.” The doctor looked to me again. “And I recognise your face, Miss Shakespeare. The good luck charm that’s going to help Bullet here lead us to the championship again.”

Of course, football. We were in Alabama after all.

Romeo wrapped me in his arms. “She sure is. Thank you, sir.”

“Any news on the draft? Seattle Seahawks are dying this season. Their quarterback was forced to retire early through injury, and you’re a sure win for first draft.”

Romeo glanced sideways at me, apprehension evident on his face, and he fidgeted on his feet. “I know as much as you, sir, but from what I’ve been hearin’ from my coaches, Seattle is a big possibility for me.”

I frowned. Seattle was a possibility? He’d never even mentioned it to me.

“Please sit.” Doctor Adams gestured for me to follow him, breaking me from my inner thoughts. I scooted up on the bed and Romeo sat beside me on the chair, gripping my outstretched hand.

The doctor studied his chart. “So. You’re pregnant?” I could see a flicker of surprise in his blue eyes. Yes, Romeo “Bullet” Prince had knocked up a girl. How cliché.

“Yeah. I took a test last week and it was positive. In fact, I took four, all different brands, all telling me that I’m well and truly up the duff.”

Doctor Adams raised his eyebrow, cracking a smile at my British-ism. Romeo pursed his lips to stop from laughing along with him.

“Okay, well, we’ll run a few tests today and give y’all an ultrasound to see how far along you are. You think maybe around a month?”

“If my calculations are correct, yes. But I had a really light period last month, so I’m not too sure.”

“It’s normal to spot bleed at the beginning of a pregnancy so you could be further along. Let’s get started, shall we?”