Page 49 of Better Daddy
Flustered doesn’t begin to describe how I feel as Sully calls to the doctor to let her know I’m ready. As I will my heart to settle, I worry she can smell the arousal in the air. Shit. Can she feel the sexual tension still threatening to suffocate me?
“How are you feeling?” she asks casually, oblivious to what she interrupted. As she settles on the stool beside the table, she scans my chart on her tablet. Even if my first pregnancy had been a cakewalk, my age alone would make me high risk. Add the preeclampsia I suffered, which resulted in over a month on bed rest, and an emergent delivery to the mix, and it’s hard not to be cautious.
“I feel good,” I say strongly, as if I can will the sensation to stick with me through the next six months. I’m a stubborn person. If there was even the slightest chance I could control the uncontrollable, I’d figure out how. My goal is to get to full term, but with my history, it’s unlikely.
“Any dizziness or weakness in your extremities?”
I hold out my hands and wiggle my fingers. “All good.”
She smiles. “Good. Your blood work looks great, so all we have left is to see how baby is measuring.” She rolls away and brings the sonogram machine closer. “Dad, do you want to stand on the other side of Mom so you can see better?”
Sully glances at me, seeking approval, and my heart trips overitself. This shouldn’t be so hard. I wanted another baby for so long. I want to enjoy this with him. I hold out my hand, and he breaks into the biggest smile I’ve seen from him in years. He sets my clothes on the chair and rounds the table, taking my offered hand in both of his and squeezing. As if it’s second nature, he leans down and presses a kiss to my forehead.
It’s so devastatingly sweet. Achingly tender.
Before I can lose myself in the moment, before I can spiral about what this all means, the doctor says, “It’s going to be cold.”
Then she slides the transducer over my belly, and a loud static noise fills the space. She presses down, and the black screen is replaced with the image of our baby. Though, I saw my little gummy bear the last time I was here, today the baby’s features are more prominent. Arms and legs, still so small but fully formed, and the most beautiful whooshing sound, strong and steady.
Sully hisses above me, snagging my attention. And damn am I glad I looked. He’s never looked more handsome than he does now, with his lips tipped up and the skin around his eyes crinkled, creating the most delicious creases, as if putting an emphasis on his joy.
He bows his head and catches my eyes, seeking out my reaction just as I sought out his. His eyes are a brilliant blue when they meet mine. This color is one I only see when he’s emotional, and by the way his eyes fill with tears, there’s no denying just how powerfully this moment has hit him.
“You did good, sweetheart. Sofuckinggood,” he rasps as he looks at our baby again.
My heart expands in my chest, like his words have filled me with helium. I was nervous about this part. For so long, Sully didn’t want another baby, and though he’s told me he’s happy about this pregnancy, a niggling doubt has clung to me since the day I told him. This reaction is all I need to be certain that he hasn’t just been humoring me. He really does want this.
When the doctor assures us that the baby looks perfectly healthy, I cling to her words, knowing I’ll be rolling them around in my headoften over the next few months. She reminds us of the symptoms of preeclampsia, and we discuss precautions. As she hands me a towel to swipe away the goop on my belly, she says, “Did you want to know the sex? We have the results in your blood work.”
I glance at Sully, my mind going blank, and in return, he gives me a soft smile. “I’d really like to include T.J. when we find out. Is that okay with you?”
Tears well in my eyes so quickly that I have to look away before they spill. I nod, unable to get the words out.
“Then we’ll wait,” the doctor says cheerfully. “Schedule your anatomy scan on your way out, and we’ll see you in four weeks.”
I smile gratefully. “That sounds perfect.”
The day itself is perfect, in fact.
That is until Sully and I enter the apartment in Jersey again and find ourselves engulfed in chaos.
He steps in front of me, as if he needs to shield me from the mayhem. “What in the bloody hell are you doing?”
Chapter 18
Sloane
“Isn’t it perfect?” Cal’s shout is strained, since he’s balancing what is easily a twelve-foot tree while Lo stands back and yellsto the left, to the right.
Yeah, there’s no way to center that damn tree. Not when it literally touches the ceiling. We either need to cut a hole up there or trim the top.
Considering I get more than enough of Madame E as it is, I don’t think cutting a hole in her floor is the way to go.
I cringe. “I don’t know if I’d call it perfect.”
Sully, who’s still standing between me and all the commotion, shouts, “Why in bloody hell would you buy a tree that big!”
Cal straightens and huffs, like he’s affronted by the question. “It’s Murphy’s first Christmas with us.”
