Beauty from Love (Beauty 3)

27

I got into my music studio a few weeks ago and I’ve been banging out the tunes like crazy. It’s weird—maybe like the break I had from the time I left Southern Ophelia to now was what I really needed to make this transition from performer to composer a successful one. Or maybe I’m just happy with my life and it’s finding its way into my music.

I’ve conferenced with Charlie and the gang a few times and they’re really excited about the material I’m working on. Randy wants first pick and that totally works for me. I have no problem selling my songs minus the pain of marketing them.

Kim, my female lead replacement for Southern Ophelia, says she loves my lyrics because they speak to her. She’s like me in a lot of ways. She only sings songs that touch her so we’ve been working on a special single together. The guys don’t know about it—and she’s asked me to not tell them—and I think I know why. This song is her story and the way she feels about a man. I happen to believe the song is about Charlie. I guess it could be anyone, but the lyrics she’s contributed tell me she’s in deep.

I’m absorbed into the song in my head when Jack Henry comes into my studio. “L, you’re going to be late for your appointment.”

I look at the time and he’s right. I should’ve been gone ten minutes ago. “Shit.” I get up from my stool at the piano and go over to give him a kiss. “I gotta run.”

He grabs my arm to get my full attention before I’m able to get away. “No speeding to make it on time. I mean it. You can’t beat the clock so don’t try.”

That’s something I would have once attempted, but not now. “I’ll obey all the traffic laws.”

He kisses my cheek. “I’m really sorry I can’t go with you today.”

He feels bad he doesn’t make it to the doctor’s with me every time. “It’s okay. I see her every week so you can’t take off from work for every appointment, even if you are the boss.”

“Get a picture of her for me so I can see how much my girl’s grown this week.”

He has to stop doing that, always calling this baby a girl, but I don’t have time to scold him. I think that’s one reason he’s doing it—because I’m on my way out the door and I don’t have time. “I always do.”

My ultrasound goes well, as does my cervical exam. No change. I’m twenty-six weeks now and everything remains on track, so I decide it’s a good time to speak with Dr. Sommersby about my concerns. “My husband and I have a question. We understand that we can’t have penetrative sex, but is it okay for me to … orgasm other ways?”

“Oral sex and mutual masturbation are fine as long as nothing goes inside the vagina and you don’t experience contractions, leaking, or bleeding afterward. You’d need to come to the hospital immediately if any of those things occur.” She never misses a beat as she continues documenting in the computer, a sign this isn’t the first time she’s answered this question, so I feel minimally better about having asked. She finishes her documentation and closes the laptop. “Have any other questions or concerns?”

“I think that’s it.”

I use the drive home to think about what Jack Henry and I will do tonight. I want it to be great, not that it isn’t always, but I deserve something special seeing as I haven’t had an orgasm in eight weeks. Eight. Weeks. That’s crazy. He’ll probably touch me once and I’ll come. Yeah, it’s that bad.

I see Jack Henry on the vineyard as I’m coming up the drive so I stop. He abandons whatever he’s in the middle of doing and walks my way. I watch him coming toward me, in his rugged wear and Indiana Jones hat, and my heart still skips a beat. Oh my, he’s so damn good-looking. I still can’t believe he’s all mine.

He takes a couple of brisk steps before jumping the white fence surrounding the vineyard. “Everything go okay?”

“Yeah.” I reach into my purse to take out the ultrasound picture. “I even have proof.”

He takes it from me and a grin spreads. “My girl is growing.”

“Indeed I am. I gained another two pounds since I saw the doctor last week.”

He holds up the picture. “I meant this girl.”

I knew exactly who he meant. I just wanted to aggravate him the way he does me. “You’re going to feel really weird when this baby comes out a boy.”

“I don’t think so. I feel it deep down in my gut.”

I’m the mother and the baby is inside me. You’d think I’d be the one with the gut feeling. “Okay, clairvoyant one. I hope you can also see a name in your crystal ball since we don’t have one yet.”

“We have plenty of time to come up with the perfect name.”

I’m tired of she, her, he, him, and it. “I’d like to choose one for each gender so I don’t have to continue thinking of this child as nameless.” We look at one another and laugh. “I guess that would be fitting—the nameless companions to have a nameless child.”

“I’m ready for my daughter to have a name, so we’ll work on it this weekend.”

I roll my eyes. “You aren’t going to contribute a boy name, are you?”

He shrugs. “Probably not.”

Maybe I’ll make it a little more appealing for him to think about a boy name. “Then that means I get free rein on the boy name and you can’t veto anything I choose.”

“Fine. Have at it since it doesn’t matter. We won’t be using a boy name so it’s a waste of time—at least this go-round—but maybe the next one will be a boy. I’d like to have one.”

He’s killing me. “I hope this baby comes out with a big ol’ doodle just so I can wipe that smug look off your face.”

“Any son of mine would have a big doodle.”

I can’t believe he’d say that about a baby. “You’re awful.”

He shrugs. “You brought it up.”

I reach for the ultrasound picture. “Give me that. I’m going to the house.” I take it from him and put it in the passenger seat. “What time will you be in?”

He takes his hat off and leans inside my window. The weather is mild today so he’s not hot and sweaty, but he still smells like a working man. It’s sexy as hell. “What time do you want me in?”

He radiates sex and pheromones, almost like he can sense that I got the all-clear from Dr. Sommersby about having an orgasm, and my insides flip. Umm … I’d really like right now, please and thank you, but I remain disciplined. “I don’t have anything special planned so whenever you finish here is fine.” Lie. I have something very special planned. I schemed on it all the way home from my doctor’s appointment.