Page 29 of Closing the Distance

I don’t watch whatever Dr. Taylor is doing. Instead I watch Lexi’s face, each expression giving me a small glimpse at what she’s feeling, but I know it’s just the tip of the iceberg. Lexi is guarded, more than most people I’ve met—men and women alike. But I want her to be able to trust me with her every thought and emotion.

I squeeze her hand, giving her any strength I can, and then a whooshing sound fills the room, and my gaze focuses on the screen of the machine the doctor is using. Dr. Taylor clicks a couple of keys, taking images of what looks like the old gray-and-white static I used to see on my grandpa’s ancient television back in the day. But in the middle of that static is a small, round blob and a quick flicker that matches the rapid heartbeat now filling the room.

My vision blurs, and it takes me a second to realize the burning behind my eyes is tears. I can barely look away from the screen—from my kid—but I pull my gaze to look at Lexi. My heart nearly bursts out of my chest at the longing and pure love in her watery eyes as she stares unblinking at the screen.

“Is it okay?” she asks the doctor, her voice shaky.

Dr. Taylor nods. “Everything’s looking great so far. Strong, steady heartbeat right where it should be. Baby is measuring right on track.” She turns away from the computer and offers us both a caring smile. “Congrats, Mom and Dad.”

And that’s when the tears that have been building in Lexi’s eyes start to fall. She doesn’t make a sound, but the tears fall in a steady stream down her face. The doctor hits a few more buttons and then a small machine flares to life, spitting out several images of our little blob. She hands them to Lexi with a look of kind understanding before she starts to clean up. When she’s done, she patsthe table and tells Lexi to take as much time as she needs before she leaves us alone in the room. I can’t stand to see Lexi crying, so I pull her up and wrap her in my arms. She burrows her head into my chest, her arms going around my waist, holding me tight to her. It’s nothing like the tentative way she hugged me back earlier.

We stay like that for several minutes, but I don’t complain. As much as I hate her tears, I relish in the chance to hold her close.

Lexi’s the one who pulls away first, and I reluctantly let her. She brushes her fingers under her eyes, wiping away any remnants of her tears. “Sorry about that,” she mumbles.

I lift her chin with my finger, nearly forgetting what I want to say once those dark ocean-blue eyes meet mine. “You never have to apologize for crying, Precious.”

She almost looks startled as the term of endearment leaves my lips. I’ve never really called any woman anything other than their name or baby, but neither of those seem enough in this moment—or seem right for Lexi. But Precious does because Lexi is the most precious person in my world.

Even if there was no baby, I would’ve chosen her. I did choose her. She was the one who left, and I’m bound and determined to make sure she never leaves me again.

I drop a kiss to her forehead, my own emotions swirling recklessly inside me. Today has been more than I ever expected. More than I ever dreamed.

“I’ll step out and let you finish up, okay? I’ll meet you outside.”

“Okay,” she says, her eyes still holding a vulnerability which makes me want to hold her tight and never let go. I drop one more kiss to her forehead because I can’t help myself and then make my way out of the doctor’s office. Once I get on the sidewalk, I pull my phone out and dial the one person who I know has been dying to hear how this doctor’s appointment went.

It only rings twice before she picks up. “Hey, how’d it go?”

“Mom—” My voice cracks as pride and joy and a million other emotions fight to burst out of me. “The heartbeat was so fast.”

She laughs on the other end of the line. Unlike my brother, she was happy for me when I shared the news. She didn’t immediately jump to paternity tests and questioning if Lexi was just trying to trap me.

“That’s normal.”

“Yeah, that’s what the doctor said. God, Mom, it was wild. I mean, it just looks like this little blob, but I could see the flicker of its heart going so quick. The doctor said everything looked great, so it’s all good so far.”

“Oh Ty, that’s wonderful.” There’s a pause, but I don’t fill it because I know my mom. She’s careful with her words, only saying what she truly means, and I’ve learned it’s best to never rush her. “You sound really happy, Sweetie.”

I inhale a deep breath of the crisp fall air and look up at the still blue Southern California sky. “I am, Mom. I really am.”

SEVENTEEN

My pregnancy hormones are conspiring against me. For weeks, all I could do was eat, sleep, or throw up. My energy was at an all-time low, and I would’ve happily slept most of the day away. As it was, I was wiped every night after work.

But last week, my nausea completely subsided. And then a new symptom popped up. One that has me rubbing my thighs together trying to ease the ache. I give up trying to fight it, desperately needing to release some of this tension before I explode. I grab my favorite vibrator that never fails to get the job done and get comfortable on my bed, turning it on. I don’t mess around. I’ve learned over the last few days that one orgasm barely does anything to sate me. Hell, three sometimes rarely does the job.

And that’s why I’m convinced my hormones are conspiring against me because I suspect I would be more than sated if I gave in and let Ty fuck me senseless instead of keeping all this pent-up need to myself and trying to release the tension solo.

But we’re going slow—apparently snail-paced slow. I refuse to let my stupid, horny hormones ruin what we’ve built over the past six weeks.

I turn on my vibe and then position it on my clit, going for gold. My back arches as pleasure instantly shoots up my spine, and my thighs start to shake with my impending release. The first one never takes long, and I’m already right on the edge when the damn doorbell rings.

I let out a groan of frustration, turn off my vibe, pull my yoga pants back up, and hustle to the door, wondering if it’s a delivery again. When Ty was out of town last week, he had food delivered every day for me. It was different having someone take care of me instead of me feeling like I always had to take care of myself. Nice, but definitely something I wasn’t expecting.

But when I open the door, it’s not delivery. It’s Ty. And like the devil himself is in charge of my body, my nipples bead in my bra, and my clit throbs between my legs at just the sight of this man who is too damn handsome for his—or my—own good.

“Hey. I thought you didn’t get back until late tonight.” I try to sound breezy, but I’m pretty sure I sound as frazzled as I feel. I’m teetering on the damn edge.

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