Page 105 of Crazy Imperfect Hearts

Lucas: I’m on the way.

Quickly, I change into the pajamas Mom sent me for Christmas and discard the Montana Winery sweatshirt I’ve been sleeping in. He doesn’t need to know I’ve gone to bed wearing it every night for the past few months. That the soft, fleece-lined fabric makes me feel closer to him.

I take my blood pressure for the third time, hoping I’d simply misaligned the cuff and it isn’t actually continuing to go up. I’ve always prided myself on having textbook blood pressure. Even for the first twenty-seven weeks of my pregnancy, it was excellent. But lately, I swear it’s gone up just a little every day. Today is the first time it hit 140. 140 over 90 to be exact. And I sigh, knowing this isn’t good. It’s the exact number Dr. Russo warned me about.

At least I don’t have to worry about the shop. Ryder has been pulling his weight around here, letting me sleep in every day as he takes the morning shift.

He’s still crashing in my ‘closet.’ His divorce isn’t final yet and he doesn’t have access to the funds he needs to get his own place. But Ryder swears he’ll be out before the baby comes.

My brother and I haven’t discussed Lucas’s idea of me getting a place in his building. I haven’t even discussed it with Lucas yet. And the sad thing is, he hasn’t mentioned it againsince that first time. Maybe he’s changed his mind, having decided my being that close wouldn’t be good for his dating life.

Despite the fact that I haven’t seen him out with another woman, my guess is he’d have to venture quite a ways from Calloway Creek. Everyone here knows not only about his past as a runaway groom, but about the impending birth of his kid with me. I swear, every single woman in this town has a sign they hold up around Lucas that reads,‘I wouldn’t touch you with a ten-foot pole.’

While part of me feels sorry for him, the other part, the deep-down part of me that wants him to my very core, is glad he’s not the highly-sought-after bachelor he should be.

I hear the front door to the apartment open and then Lucas is standing in my bedroom doorway.

“What’s going on? Is it your blood pressure?”

I nod.

He strides over, sits on the side of the bed, and picks up the cuff. “Let me do it.”

I don’t object. I never object when he does anything that has him touching me. Though my incessant horniness has abated, the jolts of electricity I feel when his fingers brush against my arm are just as intense as always. The man has no idea that every time he accidentally touches my hand, when his arm swings against mine on our walks, when he wipes a spot of pizza sauce off my chin—that my heart races and butterflies not brought on by our little M&M dance in my stomach.

He has no idea that every time I look at him, I have conflicting emotions about Lucas the man and Lucas the father of my child. He has no idea that I dream of the three of us becoming a family. A family like his brothers have. Like Maddie has with Tag. Like Amber with Quinn.

Most of all, he has no idea that over the course of the past several months, I’ve fallen head over heels in love with him.Him—Lucas Montana. Runaway groom. The most unattainable, unfettered, unbridled man in the history of men.

“One forty over ninety,” he says with a frown. He stands and offers me his hand. “Get dressed. I’m taking you to see Dr. Russo.”

~ ~ ~

As we have for every appointment since the anatomy scan, we walk in thefrontdoor of the doctor’s office. Yes, we often get stared at. Whispered about. Even laughed at. But after months of this, it just rolls right off us.

While Sylvia's story was surprisingly tactful, it made waves locally and there have still been rumors. Some of them crazier than the actual truth itself. They range from us being secretly married (my favorite), to Lucas hiring me as a surrogate, and me getting pregnant by IVF, because come on, why would a guy like him ever actually want to have sex with a girl like me?

“The doctor will see you,” Carrie says.

We’re escorted back, all the usual vitals are taken, and then we’re led to an exam room.

Dr. Russo enters, asks all the normal questions, palpates my tummy, takes my blood pressure for the second time since we got here, and settles onto her stool. “Regan, it’s good that you came in. Your blood pressure is elevated. It’s at the point where we need to monitor you more frequently. I’d like you to be on modified bed rest. I’m ordering a twenty-four-hour urine test to screen for preeclampsia. We’ll do twice weekly ultrasound biophysical profiles to monitor the baby’s health. And of course, I’d like you to continue taking your blood pressure and report any fluctuations. If it reaches one-sixty, we’ll admit you to the hospital and start hypertensive protocols.”

I place my hands protectively over my stomach. “I’m only thirty-two weeks. Will he be okay?”

“There’s no need for alarm. Most likely the modified bed rest will help. You don’t have to be in bed all day. I’d just like you sitting or lying down for the most part. Binge your favorite shows. You can even continue working a few hours a day if you wish. Just have this big strong man here move a recliner behind the counter and let your customers do most of the work. No more walks in the park. Short walks only. To Ava’s coffee shop. Over to Goodwin’s Diner. Nothing more than a few minutes. Light housework is okay, but you let that strapping brother of yours do the heavy lifting.”

I look up at Lucas. “I don’t even have the nursery done. Not to mention I’m not even sure where I want it to be.”

He cocks his head oddly.

“You let others take care of that,” Dr. Russo says. “Your job—your most important job—is to protect this baby and yourself by taking it easy.” She stands and pulls over the ultrasound machine. “Now, let’s take a look at your little slugger, shall we?”

~ ~ ~

“Don’t freak out,” Lucas says when we leave. “We knew this was a possibility. If you do what Dr. Russo says, it’ll be fine.”

“I’m not freaking out, Lucas.”

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