The doctor’s office wasn’t very busy when I signed in. I sat down in a corner, keeping my head down so no one would notice me. Not that I expected anyone to, but I had learned in the last six months to be cautious. Shane’s fans—the women at least—hated me. I was still getting death threats and nasty hate mail sent to my office as well as our house. Emmie took care of the fan mail and at least half of it was for Shane and how much they wanted to hurt me because we were engaged and now married.
My bodyguard went with me when Shane couldn’t. Since Shane had gone to the hospital to check on Layla and the babies, Peterson had driven me to the doctor’s office. He had left me at the entrance to the building where I had told him he could pick me up in about an hour since I had no idea how long this visit was going to take.
“Harper?”
I raised my head to find the nurse standing in the doorway to the back of the office. I stood quickly and hurried toward her, offering her a smile. “Hi.”
She smiled back. “What brings you in, dear?” she asked as I stepped onto the scale in the little alcove before we reached the exam rooms.
“I think I have a UTI, and there are a few things I need to talk to the doctor about,” I told her as she scanned my forehead with the thermometer.
“Okay then.” She reached into the cabinet behind me and pulled out a cup before labeling it with my name and birthdate. “Can you give us a little sample? I’ll give it to the lab and she will have the results before she comes in to talk to you.”
Twenty minutes later I left the office feeling lighter, happier. I had a horrible UTI, the doctor had told me, but she had told me I could stop taking my birth control pills as soon as I finished this cycle out. I only had a week to go and then Shane and I could start trying for our baby.
Chapter 18
Emmie
I sat back on my heels, examining my art work.
Mia gave me a grumpy look. “Are you done yet, Momma?”
“Nearly,” I assured her as I smeared the glitter on her checks that was too thick in one spot. “Okay, there. Now you are my beautiful flower fairy.”
She clapped her hands together excitedly before turning around to examine herself in the floor-length mirror on the opposite wall in my bathroom. “Oh, I’m so pretty!”
I rolled my eyes. “You’re always pretty, Mia.”
“Aunt Emmie, I’m ready.” Lucy stepped into the bedroom and I stepped out of the bathroom to find a zombie version of Jane Austen standing before me. Shit, that girl was too smart and creative for her own good, but she was freaking adorable. “Nice. Are you ready to go see your parents before I take you to Harris’s house?”
“I’m ready whenever you are.” She grinned. “Think Harris will like it?”
“I’m sure he will relate completely to the zombie, but I’m not sure if he will get the whole Jane Austen thing.” I laughed as I picked Mia up to carry her downstairs to her father. Mia wasn’t up for trick-or-treating. She had told us plain and simple she didn’t like it. So she was going to give out candy with Nik.
“He’s smarter than you think, Aunt Em,” Lucy informed me as she followed me down the stairs. “He reads as much as I do.”
“So he knows who Jane Austen is? He’s read her books?”
“Probably not.”
I glanced at her over my shoulder. “Well, he’s still pretty to look at, huh?” Lucy blushed and I laughed again. “It is okay, Lucy. Even I know he’s a little hottie.” The boy looked just like his dad, so how could he not be hot? Shaggy dark hair that always seemed to be in his aquamarine eyes, and his shoulders were already wider than the majority of the boys his age.
“Don’t tell Dad,” she whispered when we reached the living room. Nik was already pouring bags of candy into the huge black bowl with a pumpkin on the front. “He might kill Harris.”
“My lips are sealed, baby cakes,” I promised as I sat Mia on her feet and she ran toward her father.
“I’m ready to give out the candy, Daddy,” Mia informed her father, sounding very important.
“Who are you?” Nik asked, crouching down in front of the little fairy. “My little Mia is going to be helping me. You’re not my Mia.”
“Daddy, it’s me!” She cupped his face in both hands, her voice serious.
“I’m not sure.” He examined her closer. “My Mia doesn’t have glittery green hair or shimmery cheeks. She doesn’t have pretty pink wings or yellow legs.”
“It’s a costume, Daddy. Really it’s me.”
“Nope, I don’t believe you. But maybe… If you are really and truly my precious Mia then you will know the answer to this question… Who is Mia’s favorite person in the entire world?”
“You are, Daddy!” she exclaimed, hugging him tight.
“What about your momma?” Nik asked, glancing at me over Mia’s shoulder. “Is Momma your favorite too?”
“She’s my second favorite.”
I sighed. “Better second than last, I guess.” I picked up my keys. “I’m leaving now, but I should be back before you give out all the candy.”
Nik stood and kissed my lips. The touch of his lips brought back all the delicious memories we had made the night before and I leaned in, deepening the kiss for a moment longer. When I stepped back his eyes were nearly cobalt. “Hurry back,” he murmured, making me shiver.
“Only if you promise more of last night,” I whispered before turning around. “Let’s go, Lucy. Your dad is going to want to take all kinds of pictures.”
“Bye, Uncle Nik,” Lucy called as she followed me out.
“Bye, Lucy. Have fun, sweetheart.”
“Bye, Lucy!” Mia called from her spot at the candy bowl, already trying to sneak a miniature candy bar.
“Bye, Mia!”
“I know it’s Halloween and all, Nik, but I’d rather our child didn’t have a stomachache from all the candy she’s going to be sneaking…” His eyes lifted from my ass with a frown and saw that Mia had one candy bar in her hand and another in her mouth already. “Damn, she is quick.” Laughing at his mumbled curse, I opened the door. “Love you.”
On the drive to the hospital Lucy told me all about her new assignment for her creative writing class. She was going to do an interview with Harris on what it’s like to grow up as a rocker brat—her words not mine. When I told her she was a rocker brat, she sighed. “Not like Harris is. I wasn’t born into it, so I don’t know everything to expect. Harris is older, has even gone on a summer-long tour with his dad. Oh, I forgot the best part! If my teacher likes my assignment she said that she might let me do a few articles for the school newspaper. They only let older kids do that, never fourth graders.”