Saint (Hot Shots 4)

“Look at that. No dizziness. I swear if the doctor comes back and says everything is fine, I’m going to be so pissed about the hospital bill.” I’m not making much sense, more or less just talking to talk.

“You know that’s bullshit. You wouldn’t be here if I didn’t think it was necessary.” We make our way into the restroom, his firm eyes on me when I stand on my own. I give Saint the side eye, which he takes it as his cue to leave. “Okay, fine. I’m leaving the door open though. Not compromising on that.”

“Fine, but shoo. I have a cup to pee in.” The smirk he gives me causes me to giggle like a schoolgirl. This is what Saint does to me—he makes me laugh when I’m ready to cry, he makes me feel alive for the first time, and I don’t ever want that to change.

“Get to your job, sweetheart. That way, we can figure out what’s going on.” I watch until he’s out of eyesight, and then get down to business.

Twenty-One

Saint

“What’s taking so long?” I hear the concern in Emerson’s voice. She’s back in the hospital bed, body tucked into itself, eyes closed, and even in the sterile white room with bright lights surrounding her, she’s still the most beautiful woman in the world.

“Sweetheart, these things take time. If there’s a patient who needs the doctor more urgently, you get bumped down. It’s just a wait-and-see game now.” I push the hair off her forehead, my other hand in hers. I haven’t left her side since she walked out of the bathroom.

“I just want to sleep in our bed, not this place,” she grumbles, letting out a breath of air.

“We’ll get home. It might not be tonight, but we’ll be home before you know it. Show me those pretty eyes, Emerson.” I need her to see the conviction in my words.

“Saint.” She opens her eyes.

“Fuck, love the way my name sounds on your lips.” A hum leaves her throat. “Hold that thought. I bet that’s your doctor now.”

“Miss. Watson, I’d like to say it’s a pleasure to meet you, but I think we both know nobody wants to be here willingly.” I watch as he shakes Emerson’s hand. “I’m Dr. Johnson. Is it okay to go over everything in here?” he asks her while shaking my hand.

“Saint,” I state.

“Yes, of course. I have to tell you, I’m really tired of the dizziness and now nausea,” Emerson jokes.

“Well, it looks like you may have many more months to contend with that.” I tilt my head, trying to figure out what he’s saying.

“Does that mean more testing?” Emerson asks, her head cocked to the side as she’s trying to figure out the same thing I am.

“Yes, part of the issue could be your vestibular neuronitis, but the nausea and lightheadedness are because you’re pregnant,” he says without missing a beat.

“But how could that be? I had my period last month, remember?” Emerson looks at me. “I even took a test afterwards because it was so light.”

“Those things can happen. Sometimes it’s almost like a false positive. Now, because of your pregnancy, there’s not much I can do at this time without consulting an obstetrician and going from there.” I still haven’t spoken, and I know just what I’ll be saying the minute her doctor leaves the room.

“Okay, so I’ll just be careful, get lots of rest, and make a phone call tomorrow. Thank you, Dr. Johnson.” She shakes his hand.

“Yes, thank you.” I wake up out of my reverie as he scribbles a few things down on her chart then writes a prescription.

“I’m going to give you this. It’s an anti-nausea medicine. Try eating small meals throughout the day, stay hydrated, and take these as needed.” He hands her the piece of paper.

“Will do.” He takes his leave, the door closing softly behind him.

“Say something, Saint.” My hand palms the back of her head, taking care not to hurt Emerson.

“Oh, I have plenty to say. This is just the beginning, but you better start planning a wedding because we’re getting married. I told you that all those weeks ago when there was a chance you could be pregnant. Do you remember?”

“How could I not? You pinned me to the bed, put this big honking ring on my finger, and told me the minute I was pregnant, we’d be married within a few weeks time.” The smile on her face counter products the rolling of her eyes.

“Oh yeah, between your family, my family, and the guys and their wives, it won’t take any time at all.” My lips seek hers, and I crush them to hers, needing to taste that sweetness only she can give me.

“Then I guess we better get you home and call the reinforcements,” I tell her as our kiss ends.