Page 45 of Cold as (N)ice

“That’s me – a funny guy,” he replied evasively in a monotone voice. “Funny, funny, Barrett.”

“Mr. and Mrs. Coeur?” the nurse called out in the distance – and they stood immediately. He motioned for Irene to take the lead, following her back to the doctor’s office. As they steppedinto the room, everything seemed to happen so fast. He was staring at the equipment, vaguely listening as the nurse spoke to Irene, and saw the television in the upper corner before turning around.

“Where’d the nurse go?” he blurted out. “Are we finished already, and I missed it?”

“I’ve got to change.”

“Into what?” he asked stupefied and saw her amused smile.

“Just turn around or get out for a few minutes.”

“I’m not missing this – and I don’t know what’s happening, so that’s a big ‘NO’ from me.”

“I figured as much, so turn around so I can take off my pants.”

“Yet another big ‘NO’ from me,” he grinned, laughing. “If you are taking off your pants and I’m in the room – I’m watching.”

Irene rolled her eyes at him – and shrugged. To his shock, she simply donned the cloth gown over her shirt, looked at him, and raised an eyebrow, before reaching under the gown and yanking down her pants.

He cursed and rolled his eyes so hard.

“It figures you would find some way to ruin this for me.”

“Barrett!” she hissed in disbelief laughing at him. “I told you to leave the room, and you said ‘no.’”

“Uh, hello? You were talking about stripping out of your clothing – I am not leaving for that.”

“Which is precisely why I change in the bathroom each evening into my pajamas.”

“Which is precisely why I’m removing the bathroom doorknob,” he shot back quickly – and saw her smile. Gosh, he loved her smile and how she just ‘got’ him, knowing he was full of himself. “I’m not,” he muttered, looking away. “But I do think it’s cute you are modest.”

“I know,” she replied, looking at him tenderly. “Which is why I trusted you to stay with me.”

“You can always trust me. I may mouth a lot, but I won’t ever cross a line with you. I may walk that ‘line’ like I’m being given a sobriety test – but I won’t cross it.”

And the nurse walked in with the doctor before either of them could say anything else.

“Hello, I’m Dr. Pierce and I understand we’ve got some happy news to check out for you, Mrs. Coeur?”

“Yes.”

“Perfect. Let’s get started then,” the doctor began easily, and Barrett stood right beside Irene, holding her hand, as the doctor shot off a volley of questions that he didn’t know the answers to. They were very private, invasive, open questions that Irene answered quietly, clutching his hand – obviously nervous.

The doctor then turned and nodded, as the nurse flipped on the television, and Irene began to lie back on the bed. A pair of stirrups were unfolded from the side of the bed – and he held up a hand.

“Hang on – dumb ol’ guy here and brand-new daddy – but what’s with the sexy stuff?” he blurted out, and all three of the women started laughing at him, sharing a look.

“Mr. Coeur,” the doctor began, smirking. “While I appreciate a good comedy skit as much as the next person, the next several months, we are all going to get pretty close, discuss some personal things, and for me to check the baby inside of your wife – well – things getveryclose in a clinical manner. No sexy stuff here, okay? That is for home, and you already knew that because she’s pregnant.”

Barrett swallowed and shot a glance at Irene. He didn’t know what this entailed – and he wasn’t the father, but neither had mentioned it… yet.

“I’m not the biological father,” he said quietly. “I will be its Daddy when the child is born.”

“You already are,” Irene replied tenderly, clasping his hand and sharing a warm gaze with him. “She’s going to check me with a scope from the inside…”

“Say what?”he managed to strangle out, shocked.

“The uterus is inside of the woman,” the doctor chuckled, wiggling a wand at him before squirting something on it – and the temperature in the room became stifling within seconds. He knew his eyes were about to bug out of his head, but Irene had a death-grip on his hand.

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