Total pages in book: 100
Estimated words: 95307 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 477(@200wpm)___ 381(@250wpm)___ 318(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 95307 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 477(@200wpm)___ 381(@250wpm)___ 318(@300wpm)
“I’d rather not,” I whisper, in a voice that barely sounds like my own.
“Hmmm,” he hums, sliding his nose against my jawline. “I guess after we leave here, you’ll just have to show me.”
My body screams in agreement. Yes, that! I want to show him. So bad.
Before I can say anything though, a knock sounds at the door. Harrison doesn’t move right away, so when Dr. Taylor steps into the room, a coy smile on her face, my heated blush quickly transforms from need to embarrassment. I feel like a teenager who was just busted by her parents sneaking a boy out of her room.
“Well, good afternoon, Gwen. Harrison,” Dr. Taylor says, the smile evident in her voice.
“Hi,” I squeak over my very dry throat.
“Dr. Taylor,” Harrison adds, in a voice that does crazy things to my panties. With a quick kiss to my forehead, he finally pulls back and takes the empty seat across the room.
“How have you been feeling this month?” she asks, washing her hands at the small sink.
“Well, actually,” I verify.
“No more spotting?” She glances over her shoulder for confirmation.
Shaking my head, I reply, “None.”
“And the morning sickness?” she inquires, writing a few notes down on my chart.
“Completely gone. It was like as soon as I hit twelve weeks on Tuesday, it just stopped.”
“I’m happy to hear that,” she adds, making a few more notes. “It looks like your urine came back clean for sugars and your blood pressure is normal. Everything is looking good.” She sets down my chart and opens a drawer. She pulls out a tape measure and a small handheld Doppler instrument, and approaches the table. “The good news is that we shouldn’t have a problem picking up the baby’s heartbeat today on the Doppler. Go ahead and lie back,” she instructs, adjusting the small pillow at my head.
I lie completely still as Dr. Taylor pulls up my shirt and exposes my abdomen. I feel Harrison’s presence beside me as the doctor unsnaps my pants, places a paper towel at the opening, and gently pulls them down. She takes a few quick measurements with the tape measure before setting it aside and reaching for the small bottle on the counter. With a small dollop of warm goo, she moves the Doppler over my lower stomach, adjusting and turning it as she goes. It tickles a little, but my concentration is completely on the noise. It sounds like an old movie, something from a reel, until suddenly, a loud gallop fills the room. It’s a little fuzzy, but there’s no mistaking what it is: a heartbeat.
Peanut’s heartbeat.
My eyes instantly fill, burning with unshed tears, as a hand grabs mine. I turn and take in the look of wonderment on Harrison’s face. His eyes are trained on mine as the sweetest sound fills the room. He’s holding something in his hand, and I realize it’s his phone. He’s recording the heartbeat, a small smile playing on his lips.
The rest of the appointment flies by. Dr. Taylor orders lab work to be completed before my next appointment in four weeks, gives us the opportunity to ask questions, and sends us on our way. As I approach the reception counter to check out, the flirty nurse from my first appointment is standing there, talking to the receptionist. “Oh, hey, Harrison!” she coos, her eyes lighting up as she catches a glance at the man at my side.
“Hello,” he says politely, but doesn’t embellish his greeting. His hand at my elbow tenses just a little, a sign that he’s uncomfortable.
“I’ve already got results from my first month,” she tells Harrison, ignoring me completely. The receptionist takes my folder and starts to make my next appointment. However, my focus is torn between listening to her offer me appointment times and eavesdropping on Miss Flirts A Lot. “…I saw you the other day, but you were so busy. I didn’t want to interrupt.”
“Yes, I’ve been extremely busy lately,” Harrison comments as the receptionist hands me my reminder card. “And I’m happy you’re seeing results. Keep up the good work, and have a good day,” he adds, pulling me from the office and out to the sidewalk.
“Everything okay?” I ask as he walks me to my car.
His reply is immediate. “Yeah. Perfect.” The tension in his shoulders says otherwise.
When we reach my car, I turn to face him. “Are you sure?”
Harrison takes a deep breath. “I just… I guess I don’t want you to worry about Clara. I don’t want anyone like her to come between us.”
I gaze up at my husband—err, ex-husband—and notice the worry lines around his gorgeous eyes. “Clara? Is that the nurse’s name?”
“I’ve seen her a few times at the gym. She’s working with Ray in the evenings, but she comes in sometimes on her lunch breaks. I only know her name because I know everyone’s name who comes into my gym. She’s one of those flirty women, but that’s it, Winnie. You have nothing to worry about.”