Page 71 of Waiting on You

“Yes,” Paige says, then glances at me. “You still want to know, right?”

“Sure. Would be nice to be able to refer to it as a he or she.”

“Okay then,” the doctor says. “You see this?” She slides the probe over and points to a blurry area on the screen. “That’s a boy.”

“Really?” Paige gasps. “We’re having a boy?”

“You are,” the doctor says. “I know your appointment is tomorrow. And because of what’s happened, I’d like you to keep it. It can’t hurt to have another ultrasound done, but everything looks good. A woman’s body is meant to protect the baby, and when you fell, your body did just that.”

She removes the probe and stands. “I’ll let them know that you can be discharged, but I do want you to take it easy. Based on the bruise that’s already forming, you’re going to be sore. If you can, rest for a few days.”

Once she’s gone, Paige looks at me with a smile on her face and tears in her eyes. “He’s okay.”

“He is.” I bring her hand up to my lips and kiss her knuckles. “And he’s perfect.”

chapter twenty-six

PAIGE

“What are you doing?”

I glance up at Nate. “Nothing.”

“Really?” He chuckles. “Because it looks like I stepped away for ten minutes to make a call and you decided to bag up all of your heels when you’re supposed to be resting.”

“Huh…don’t know what you’re talking about.”

I throw my favorite pair of Jimmy Choos into the bag—It’s been a good run. Sorry to see you go—but before I can grab my Louboutins, Nate snatches the bag away from me.

“Paige, stop,” he says gently. “You’re supposed to be resting, and this is the opposite of that.”

“I’ve been resting for days,” I whine. “And I’m sitting on the floor, which is considered resting.” I pout, knowing full well I sound like a baby.

Nate tries to hide his smirk, but I catch it and glare his way.

“I just need to finish packing up this bag to donate,and then I’ll rest.”

Aside from going to my doctor’s appointment the day after I was discharged, Nate has insisted I stay in bed while he waits on me hand and foot, refusing to let me do anything that might cause me stress—including sex.

I learned that the hard way the second night he slept in bed with me and I tried to make a move. He gently took my hands, kissed my knuckles, and told me it wasn’t that he didn’t want to, but he wanted to talk about us, as well as make sure I was no longer sore before we did anything.

I pouted my best pout, but he wouldn’t budge, threatening to sleep on the couch if I couldn’t behave myself.

“You’re not donating all your heels,” he says. “You were scared, and I get it, but you and the baby are okay. When the dust settles, you’re going to regret getting rid of all those sexy heels when you’re stuck with only your running shoes and flats.”

“Fine.” I huff, standing with his help, and walk out of my walk-in closet. “But I’m at least getting rid of the pair I was wearing when I fell.”

“What do you say we take a little trip?” Nate drops the bag into my closet and closes the door.

“Where?”

Since It’s Friday and I’m off until Monday, we could go somewhere, but it can’t be too far…

“I was thinking?—”

My phone goes off, and when I see it’smy dad, I click Ignore. “Go ahead.”

Nate’s brows furrow. “Whose call did you just decline?”

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