Текст книги "Coup De Grace"

Автор книги: Lani Lynn Vale

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Текущая страница: 8 (всего у книги 15 страниц)

Chapter 13

Don’t put off tomorrow what you should’ve done today. Maybe I will…tomorrow.

-Fact of life

Nikki

“Michael!” I gasped, my head going back as he roughly pulled my hair, exposing my neck to his mouth.

He ran his tongue from my collarbone all the way to my ear lobe, which he sucked into his mouth, running his tongue along the outer shell.

“We’re going to be late,” I said desperately.

He wasn’t listening, though.

He was already pulling my jeans down my thighs, pushing them down with both hands as he bent me over the side of the bed.

“I’ll be quick,” he rumbled deeply, making my eyes roll back in my head when his bearded cheeks ran down my slit as he traced the length of my sex with his tongue.

“God,” I breathed, pushing back involuntarily as he thrust his tongue into my waiting pussy.

The scratchy beard covering his chin dug deliciously into my clit, and I was on the verge of coming when he pulled back so abruptly that I cried out in frustration.

“Alright, we can go now,” he said sternly.

I looked over my shoulder at him, saw the gleam in his eyes, and knew he was joking.

Narrowing my eyes I gave him the stink eye. “You’ve already got me on the brink. How about you just finish the job?” I asked, wiggling my ass for effect.

He grinned and slowly worked the zipper of his jeans down, unbuttoned them, then lowered his pants from around his hips just enough that he could free his erection without much maneuvering.

I licked my lips causing him to grin at me.

He knew how much he affected me, and I didn’t care one bit.

“Michael,” I urged, pushing my hips back against him.

His eyes darkened, and he lined his cock up with my entrance before slowly easing inside.

I gasped and threw my head back.

My hair flipped over my back, and Michael caught it, fisting it into his hands as he pulled back his hips.

Then he sank back inside, pulling my hair to urge me to move back against him at the same time.

I obliged, throwing my hips back so hard that a loud smack filled the room where our hips collided.

He grunted.

“That’s the way you want to do this?” He asked casually, as if he wasn’t driving me crazy with his slow movements.

“Yes!” I screamed.

He obliged that, too.

Pulling his hips back until the meaty head of his cock stayed notched in my entrance, he rammed back inside of me so hard that my knees lifted from the bed.

“Ahhh,” I moaned, lightening coursing through my veins as the erotic staccato of his movements lit me up like a firecracker.

Pleasure was building in my core.

My previous orgasm barreling back towards the finish line as he slammed into me, harder and harder until the only thing I anticipated was the delicious pain that shot through me each time he sank inside of me.

His free hand, that wasn’t pulling back on my hair, found a home on my ass, squeezing it tighter and tighter until I was sure he’d pull my ass off.

But soon I didn’t care because I was coming.

The erotic pain, the pure pleasure, and the excitement smashed through me all at once, and I spontaneously combusted.

Or so it felt like.

Maybe it was an orgasm.

But I wouldn’t call what I had with Michael ‘normal.’

What we had was fan-fucking-tastic.

“I’m coming,” I gasped. “Please!”

He knew what I wanted.

His hand left my hair, and the other left my hip.

One traveled to my clit while the other went to one of my breasts: pulling, plucking, and tickling.

My personal bottle rocket exploded into a full blown fireworks finale as I clamped down on him so hard I heard him curse and pump his hips impossibly faster.

“Jesus,” he grunted.

Then I felt the hot splash of his come pouring into me, filling me up, and marking me as his.

He pushed forward one final time and stayed planted, panting with exertion.

“You know,” he said. “I don’t even muster up this much sweat when I run.”

I groaned.

“I can’t complain.”

And I couldn’t.

If I had to deal with the sweat to get the pleasure I just had, then I’d take it every day of the week and twice on Sundays.

He pulled out of me, leaving me feeling bereft.

I was on my belly on the bed, and I could feel his essence leaking out of me in a gush.

Yet I didn’t have the energy to care at that moment.

“Get up, woman,” Michael slapped my ass.

I flipped him off, no doubt leaking come all over the bed.

I’d change the sheets when we got home.

There was no way I could move right now.

Well, that is unless Michael were to pick me up.

Which he did only seconds later, wrapping his big hands around my waist and standing me up.

“Clean up, pull up your pants, and let’s go. I can just hear my mom screeching now,” Michael teased.

Horror filled me.

“What?” I said frantically. “Are we late?”

Of course we were late.

We’d just had sex when we should’ve been leaving, Nikki Pena!

“Gah!” I said hurriedly, placing the palm of my hand between my legs to catch any stray drops that might leak out as I hobbled to the bathroom, my pants still around my ankles from where he’d left them earlier.

Michael laughed as he watched, sitting down on the bed to holster his gun and tie his shoes.

Twenty minutes later, and only ten minutes late, we pulled up to his parents’ house.

It was gorgeous.

It was one of those plantation houses with white paint, huge white pillars, red shutters, and a large front porch that housed rocking chairs.

“This is nice,” I said in awe.

I’d grown up on a farm.

We’d lived in a five bedroom house with seven children.

My brother, being the only boy, had gotten a room by himself while my sisters and I all had to spilt into three.

It looked like this house had no less than ten bedrooms.

Plus a maid’s quarters.

And a pool house.

“Yeah,” he agreed, opening his door and hurrying around to mine. “It was good.”

I hopped out when he offered me his hand, and started up the front walk.

“I’m nervous,” I whispered to Michael. “And we’re late!”

He patted my hand. “It’ll be alright.”

I knew it would be.

He’d make it so.

But that still didn’t help the nervousness that was tearing up my insides.

Or was that the nausea that hadn’t gone away for three days?

Because I felt like I was going to die.

Of nervousness. Or maybe anorexia since I was so stinkin’ hungry.

I’d met his parents on the ped’s floor, of course, but only long enough to chat with them since they’d both been working at the time.

Meeting them at their house, in their territory, on their baby boy’s arm, was a different thing entirely.

“It’s going to be okay, I promise,” he told me, as we walked up the front walk of his parent’s house.

“Are you sure my pants aren’t too tight?” I asked worriedly.

His eyes went from the front door to my ass, and I could see his pupils dilate.

“No baby, they’re fuckin’ perfect,” he murmured, licking his lips. “Maybe we should go home. Call and tell them you’re still sick…”

I laughed, knocking him with my elbow in the ribs.

“We did that before we came,” I teased lightly.

Then the door in front of me opened, and a beautiful woman, with Michael’s blue eyes, opened the door, and at her back was a man with Michael’s brown hair. With a few gray hairs that only added to its awesomeness.

“Michael, you’re late,” his mother said reprovingly. Then her eyes lit on Michael’s bared arms, and I winced.

That’d been me begging him to wear a t-shirt.

I should’ve let him wear the long sleeve one he wanted to wear.

“Ma,” he said, walking in with me behind him. “We were held up trying to find a matching shoe.”

And we had been.

That’d been what had started the whole thing tonight.

I’d been looking under the bed, and he’d been looking at my ass instead of for my shoe.

“Nikki!” Hannah called from further beyond. “I’m glad you could make it!”

I smiled genuinely at Hannah, then melted even further as the little girl in her arms launched herself at Michael.

“Uncle Mickey!” Reggie screeched.

Reggie was a ball of sunshine and happiness wrapped up in a hot pink dress and brown curls.

I wanted her!

How cute was she?

“Uncle Mickey! Spin!” Reggie screeched again.

The rest of us watched as Michael spun Reggie in a circle, arms extended out in front of him while he held her suspended in the air.

She screeched and yelled, hollering and hooting as she did the ‘airpane.’

“Alright, children. That’s enough. How about some dinner?” Elizabeth chastised them gently.

Michael swung one more time, then came to an abrupt stop.

He placed Reggie on the floor, and we all watched as she started to stumble as her equilibrium came back to her in slow increments.

Michael caught her before she could face plant, and laughed at her.

“You did better, Reggie-Roo,” he said, pulling her tightly into his chest.

I could tell he loved her.

Dearly.

And I couldn’t help a pang of sadness at the sight.

I wanted that to be our kid together.

“What’s for dinner?” Another voice called from the living room.

I looked up, startled to see another man there.

He resembled Michael in color.

He had the same tanned skin and brown hair. But that was where their similarities stayed.

This man had a more ‘baby’ face with a very lean build to him.

He didn’t look much like the rest of the family, like Hannah and Michael did.

“I made lemon pepper chicken and garlic mashed potatoes with asparagus and a pound cake for dessert,” Elizabeth smiled, happy that someone had asked her what she’d made.

I noticed how the man nodded, and the woman plastered against him grimaced.

I’d forgotten that Joslin might possibly be here.

Or more like shut it out.

I really didn’t like the woman, and I must’ve unconsciously protected myself from thinking about it all day, because until just now, I’d completely forgotten she’d be here.

Michael wrapped his arm around my shoulders, pulling me into his side as he said, “Smells great, mom. I hope you made some sweet tea, though. I’m thirsty.”

Elizabeth gave her son a droll look.

“What do you take me for, a Yankee?” She jeered.

I snorted, and covered my mouth with my hand at the jab.

Joslin was from up North.

I knew that because she always liked to say how Texas ‘wasn’t New York.’

Well, thank God for that!

“Well, lead the way, ma. You’re complainin’ about how I was late, yet here you are lolly-gaggling,” Michael teased.

Elizabeth narrowed her eyes at her son.

“Watch it,” she waggled her finger at him.

Dinner was excellent. And not a thing went wrong the entire time.

I kept my eyes on my own plate, smiled at everyone, and acted like I was comfortable.

But the whole time I wasn’t.

Joslin did nothing but glare at me the entire time, and I lost patience with her about thirty minutes into the meal, and started glaring right back.

“More chicken?”

I looked up to find Dean holding the chicken dish out to me, and I shook my head. “No, thank you.”

His eyes narrowed when I wouldn’t take the dish, and I looked down at my empty plate.

“I’m filled to the brim, promise,” I told him.

He sighed.

“Dean doesn’t like it when the women in his life don’t eat as much as a small horse,” Michael mumbled around a bite of bread. “I keep telling him to get over it, but he has a phobia.”

I blinked.

“A phobia?” I asked in confusion.

I really was stuffed, so it didn’t matter if he wanted me to eat more or not. I wasn’t going to.

Not with the way my stomach had been roiling on and off lately.

“A girl he dated in high school used to be anorexic. So he thinks every girl he knows is,” Hannah muttered, smiling at her brother in humor.

“I do not!” Dean denied.

“You do,” Manuelo laughed from the end of the table.

“So, Mom,” Joslin interrupted the conversation with her normal awesome self. “What are we doing for the holidays? I really want to go to Colorado to ski again.”

I hated skiing. So hopefully Michael didn’t expect me to go with him.

“We tried that last year and it didn’t go well; that’s off the table for this year,” Manuelo muttered, making me love him in that instant. “Plus, now we have another person to add to the mix we’ll have to start syncing our schedules now.”

My heart warmed at the mention of me, and when Manuelo smiled at me, I knew he’d forever have my heart.

If anyone can take on Joslin like that, then I was all for him!

“But last year the boys picked. This years the girls pick,” Joslin whined.

Michael made his mouth busy by shoving another piece of bread in it, but I could tell he wanted to yell at her.

Hell, so did I.

I didn’t, of course.

Surprisingly, it was Dean who said it.

“How about we talk about this when it comes closer to time? It’s only April,” Dean offered.

“Alright, well since everyone’s done, I’ll clean the dishes. Nikki, Joslin, how about you two help me?” Elizabeth asked nicely.

I refrained from grimacing.

Cleaning the kitchen was my least favorite thing to do in the world.

Give me a mop or a toilet brush all day long, but the thought of touching food and smelling it really made me want to gag.

Michael looked at me, gauging my willingness to do it, and started to say something, but I stayed his hand.

“Okay,” I said brightly, standing up and reaching for Michael’s and my plate.

When I started to pull Michael’s plate away, he held onto it until I looked into his eyes.

What I saw there was concern.

For me.

Smiling at him, I leaned down and kissed him softly on the lips, whispering, “I’m okay.”

He looked into my eyes, studying me for long moments, then nodded. “Bring me some pie on the way back out.”

I winked. “Yes, sir.”

“See, that’s what I like to hear! Lizzie, when are you gonna learn how to obey like that?” Manuelo asked loudly.

Laughing, I followed a grumbling Elizabeth, and an even more unhappy Joslin, into the kitchen.

“Makin’ us look bad, my dear,” Elizabeth said once the door swung shut behind us.

They had one of those swinging doors that I’d only seen in movies, and their kitchen was state of the art.

“Man, I could knock out some tamales in here!” I said in awe.

“You’re welcome to make them anytime you wish, as long as you share,” Elizabeth offered graciously.

“Deal,” I said, stopping by the trash to dump what remained on the two plates in my hand into the trash before walking them to the sink where Elizabeth was rinsing the dishes.

Joslin took a seat at the table and started leafing through a magazine, leaving Elizabeth and I to fill the silence, which was surprisingly easy, considering.

“So, what made you want to be a midwife?” Elizabeth asked, offering me a rinsed off dish to load into the dishwasher.

“I’m a paramedic. The first call I ever took when I was on my own was a forty week pregnant woman having her baby in a closet in her bedroom. It was during one of those storms that threatened to hail and damage everything in the affected area with its high winds. They’d just rung the tornado siren when we showed up,” I told her. “So we get there, and she’d already moved to the closet with her freaking out husband at her side. That’s where we delivered her. And I’ve been hooked ever since.”

“Those are the types of stories I love to hear. As you know, I work on the ped’s floor. It can be depressing at times to hear some stories,” Elizabeth said, handing me a handful of forks.

“Dean and I have decided to try invitro fertilization,” Joslin announced from her spot at the table.

I froze, as did Elizabeth.

“Y’all haven’t really given it that long,” Elizabeth hesitated.

“We’ve been trying for over a year, so Dean went to get tested and they discovered he had a very low sperm count. They suggested invitro, but even then they’re not sure that he’ll be able to fertilize my eggs. We’re going to ask Michael if he’d be willing to donate sperm…”

I dropped the plate I was holding and stormed out of the room.

I was so mad that I could spit nails, and when I found Dean and Michael in a tense huddle in the corner of the living room.

“Michael!” I yelled, storming to him.

He turned around to look at me in concern, then his eyes narrowed when he saw Joslin’s smiling face at my back.

“What?” he asked worriedly.

“We need to talk. Outside … now,” I told him quickly.

“I told her that we’re going to ask Michael to donate sperm,” Joslin announced to the room as a whole.

Michael turned stiffly and stared at me, ready for what he knew was coming.

Because let me tell you a little something about me.

I’m a hothead.

I react first, speak second, and think third.

It’s gotten me into trouble my entire life.

“You will not have a kid with anyone but me!” I yelled loudly, punctuating my point with a finger jab to his chest.

Michael’s eyes glittered.

“I’m not having kids with anyone, so it’s a moot point,” Michael said, crossing his arms over his chest.

“But Dean, you said he’d agree!” Joslin whined.

“My baby brother is not having a kid with you. That’s fucked,” Hannah put in her two cents.

“But it wouldn’t be his kid and mine, it’d be mine and Dean’s,” Joslin continued to whine.

“Yeah right. You know damn well and good that if it’s Michael’s DNA, he’ll have a responsibility to that kid, even if you want him not to,” Manuelo said seriously.

“It’d be our kid! He wouldn’t have any say to it!” Joslin dug herself deeper.

Michael’s body became tense, and I knew he was about to say something harsh.

“Michael and I are serious, and I’m really not comfortable with having a child of his running around with y’all. Not to say that you wouldn’t be capable parents,” I told Dean. “But what’s a part of Michael is a part of me. So would y’all be comfortable with sharing this child with me and Michael? Because I know I wouldn’t be comfortable doing that with y’all.”

“I think that we need to talk to Michael without you here,” Dean said softly. “Joslin, why don’t you go finish cleaning the kitchen with Nikki and…”

“No, she’s right. I won’t be having any kids. But if I were, it wouldn’t be with Joslin. Sorry,” Michael said, shoving his hands into his pockets and looking around the room at all the occupants.

Manuelo and Hannah, I could tell, were firmly on my side.

Elizabeth, I could tell, was conflicted.

She wanted both of her boys to be happy.

And I knew I’d made an enemy out of Joslin first and foremost.

There wouldn’t be any turning back from that.

Dean, however, looked oddly happy.

Like he hadn’t wanted to have children with her. Nor her to have any children with anyone else.

Beep-Beep-Beep-Beep.

I glanced at Michael as he pulled his pager out of his pocket.

“Gotta go,” he muttered, looking at the readout. “Nikki, come on. Let’s go.”

We left within seconds, and I was so happy I could scream.

“I cannot believe,” I said, plugging my seatbelt in, “That she asked you that.”

Michael snorted. “She always wanted kids. And I think Dean was in the process of telling me he didn’t want kids either, when you burst through the door like a hot fire poker was shoved up your ass.”

I winced.

“That sounds painful,” I admitted.

He shrugged. “I wouldn’t know. I’ve no doubt that it would be, though.”

He pulled out of his parents subdivision, flipping the lights on that I hadn’t realized were there.

“Wow,” I said, looking up at the flashing lights that were mounted to his rearview mirror. “Does it make sounds, too?”

He hit a button on his steering wheel, and the sound of a loud air horn, followed by the distinct buuuurp-burrrp most police cars used filled the night air.

Surprisingly, people moved out of our way fairly quickly.

“You can take my truck back to your house,” he muttered. “I’ll get someone to drop me off at my place.”

I blinked.

“You’re not coming back over?”

Was that a whine I detected in my voice?

Yuck, I hated whining.

“No, there’s no telling when I’ll be back,” he told me as he pulled into the station.

Then, without another word, he disappeared, leaving the truck running and me surprised and a little bit hurt.

He’d always come to my house after his calls before. Why was this time any different?

Had what I said been out of line?

Surely not. But hell, what did I know?

Chapter 14

Show me your kitties.

-T-shirt

Nikki

“Where are you?” Michael asked.

I looked at the doctor’s office where I was currently waiting for my appointment, and lied through my teeth.

“I’m at the store. Do you need anything?” I asked sweetly.

He grunted. “No. I was just hoping you were home so you could bring me my spare pistol. Something is wrong with mine and I guess I need to take it in to get it fixed.”

“No, I’m not there. I’m sorry,” I told him honestly.

“Damn. I can’t get away. I’m about to go into a meeting, and I have a SWAT seminar in Longview at twelve,” he sighed.

“I can bring it to Longview for you, as long as that’s okay. I have to go to the mall anyway,” I offered.

He made a sound of contentment. “That sounds good. What do you need at the mall?”

Pants because mine don’t fit anymore, was what I was thinking, but what I said was, “New pants. Mine have something defective with the button.”

Not totally a lie.

The defectiveness with the button came up because I couldn’t get the button to meet the hole that was designed for it.

I’d had to use a hair tie to hook the two together, and eventually Michael was going to notice that I could no longer button my pants.

I was going to buy myself some time, though, by buying some bigger jeans.

It’d been three weeks since I’d gone with Michael to pull his sister out of the mud.

Three weeks since I’d met his parents.

And three weeks since I’d finished school.

But I’d been busy.

I’d ‘graduated’ just two days ago, although it was just a formality.

I’d taken my certification test that was required in the State of Texas, and I was now a licensed certified midwife.

“Ms. Pena?” A young woman’s voice called, making me look up from the contemplation of my fingernails, which were sorely in need of a manicure.

Sadly, I knew that wasn’t going to happen any time soon.

I didn’t have time.

And when I did have time, I’d rather nap.

This pregnancy that I wasn’t announcing was really draining the hell out of me.

I stood and walked over to the woman.

“Are you ready?” She asked with a smile.

I nodded. “Yep.”

I was.

There was no denying it anymore.

None.

If all my calculations were correct, I was well past the ‘I just missed my period’ stage.

Which was normally when women felt it safe to announce their pregnancy to the world.

Something that I hadn’t, nor wouldn’t, find the courage to do anytime soon.

“Alright, we’ll get your weight and blood pressure, then you’ll take that cup right there,” she indicated the cup on the counter. “And fill the cup up to the…”

“First line, yes I know. I’m a midwife,” I told her, smiling happily.

It never got old, saying that.

“Oh! I want to do that!” The woman crowed. “I’ve been thinking about it. Is it hard?”

I smiled. “It’s tough, yes. I think the ‘hardest’ part though, is waking up in the middle of the night when the women start giving birth. But I’m not going to go that route with the home births. I’ve already got a position lined up with Good Shepherd. I’ll be assisting the doctors there. I’ll be on twelve hour shifts, ready to play catcher if the doctor’s cannot make it in time,” I told her.

Her eyes lit.

“I didn’t know they had that option,” she said, gesturing to the scale. “I’ll seriously have to look into it. I took this job because of the baby aspect. I just love meeting the little ones.”

I could relate.

Delivering babies never got old.

I’d helped deliver a baby in the parking lot of the ER.

The woman had pulled to a rocking stop in a big, jacked up Chevy truck with her frantic husband at the wheel.

The husband had been white as a sheet, and I could see why the minute I opened the door to the truck and saw a baby practically on the verge of being born, staring at me from the woman’s vagina.

The baby was literally staring, too.

His head was in the sunny side up position, which meant the baby was coming into the world facing the sky rather than the ground like he was supposed to.

It also meant that it hurt a lot more.

Which the woman that’d been birthing the boy was letting us know with her eloquent play on words.

I’d lifted my arms just in time to catch the boy as the woman had given one valiant push.

The baby slid from the mother’s birth canal into my outstretched hands, and there’d been no looking back since.

“Okay, you can step down,” the woman said. “Sit here, please.”

After checking my blood pressure, and filling the dreaded plastic cup, she showed me to a room.

“I’m sure you know by now what this little gem is!” She said, holding up a Doppler.

I nodded, sat down, and lifted my shirt. “Sure do. Have at it.”

“You said you were twelve weeks, so that should be more than enough time for her to develop and allow us to hear the heartbeat.”

I closed my eyes and listened to the sounds of the Doppler at work, amazed at how different it was from this end.

“Ahh,” the woman said. “There it is.”

I smiled, and tears filled my eyes, as I listened to mine and Michael’s baby for the very first time.

And I fell in love.

Hopelessly devoted to this little life inside of me.

“One forty two. Perfect perfect!” She said. “Alright, my dear. My name’s Dalia if you need anything. The doctor should be in with you in about ten to fifteen minutes,” Dalia explained as she headed to the room’s door, and then closed it quietly behind her.

Well, at least I didn’t have to sit here naked while I waited.

This visit was late.

Most women usually went in when they were four to six weeks pregnant.

Seeing as I was twelve, I wouldn’t have to have the normal vaginal ultrasound. I could have the one that would run over the outside of my belly.

Which also meant I wouldn’t have to get naked.

I busied myself with a magazine on birthing a child, all the while I tried to tell myself to calm down and not freak out.

Freaking out had been a major part of my life as of late.

How did I tell Michael?

Would he be okay with it?

Would he ask me to abort it?

I knew one thing, though, and that was that this baby was mine, and I loved it already.

And if I had to give up my relationship with Michael because he couldn’t see past his fears, then I’d do it.

It’d be hard as hell, but I’d do it.

And I planned on telling him tonight after we had dinner with our families.

Maybe I’d pour a few drinks into him, too.

Maybe that would help him stay calm and help him realize that having a child wasn’t the end of the world.

The door to the room clicked open, and I looked up into the eyes of an older man in his mid to late sixties.

“Hello,” Doctor Jones said, offering his hand. “I’m Doctor Jones. It’s nice to meet you.”

I smiled at him and offered him my hand, too.

The moment my hand touched his, I felt a little zing of discomfort pulse down my arm, but I hid it with a smile. “Nice to meet you, too.”

He took a seat on that little rolling chair, and I was never more thankful that I wasn’t naked than right at this moment.

Because if this man would’ve been doing stuff between my legs, I might very well have screamed.

There wasn’t anything that I could put my finger on that made me so nervous and uncomfortable.

He was normal looking for the most part.

He did have a slight bald spot at the very top of his head, and he had too much of a leer in his smile.

But other than that, he was a normal man for that age.

There was nothing that truly stuck out about him, but I knew I wouldn’t be coming back to this doctor if I could help it.

The way this practice worked, though, was that I had to see all of the doctors in case of the event that my primary OB/GYN was busy with another patient or out of town.

I had to meet with them all, and this doctor, Dr. Jones, was the first one available.

So I’d taken the appointment, even though he wasn’t the doctor that I wanted to speak with.

Luckily, I wouldn’t have to take another appointment with him.

“Alright, well your pregnancy test came back positive, so you are indeed pregnant. Today we’ll be doing a sonogram on you to double check the dates, but with what I heard about you being a midwife, I’m fairly positive that your calculations on your gestation are correct,” he grinned.

I hid my wince once again with a smile. “Yeah, I’m fairly positive myself.”

He nodded. “What does your husband do?”

Instead of telling him that I wasn’t married, I just smiled and told him, “He’s a police officer.”

Something in his eyes flared, but was gone just as quickly as I saw it.

“Well that’s nice, I bet y’all are excited,” he said, standing up and walking to the sink to wash his hands.

I leaned back and lifted my shirt when he came back to me, his hands moving to my belly.

He pressed into my abdomen, and I had to clench my core tightly when the movement made the state of my bladder go from bearable to Defcon One.

“Everything feels alright,” he said, moving back until he was standing at the sink. “I’ve written a prescription for prenatal vitamins, as well as some nausea meds if you feel that you’ll be needing some, since I read in your chart that you’ve been experiencing quite a bit of nausea and vomiting.”

I nodded, and he smiled, that leer tilting up just the corner of his lips once again.

“Alright,” he said, standing up and heading to the door. “If you have any questions, please don’t hesitate to call if need be. Do you know where the sonogram room is?”

I nodded, and he winked. “Alright little lady, you’re more than welcome to go! See you next month.”

I held my shiver in check until he’d closed the door, and I let out a breath of air.

Then an irrational rage swept through me.

If that bastard boyfriend of mine didn’t have to be so irrational about children, then I wouldn’t be freaking out right now alone. I’d have him holding me, telling me we’d never see that fucker again.

Because I knew damn well that Michael would’ve felt the same coming from him as I had.

I left the little room, waving at Dalia as I headed in the direction of the ultrasound room.

I found the room, and immediately realized that I’d fucked up.

Because Memphis, the wife of another member of the SWAT team, was smiling brightly at me.

“I just knew it!” She crowed happily. “I knew it!”

I blinked.

“Knew what?” I asked carefully.

“When I saw your chart. I bet Michael’s so happy!” She cheered happily.

Wrong. Michael didn’t even know!

“Umm, Michael doesn’t know,” I told her softly.

Her eyes cleared of their happiness.

“What?” She asked.

I was sure that was a shock to her.

Downy, her husband, was a really good man who’d been over the moon at hearing that Memphis was pregnant.