As if he’d just been given a glimpse of the best thing in the world.

Then he moved that gaze from the screen to my face and caught me staring at him.

I looked away, but not fast enough. Not fast enough not to see the look of pure joy in his eyes.

I swallowed hard past the lump in my throat, then watched the screen.

For all of two seconds.

The doctor ripped the monitor off my belly, then said, “Looks just fine. You’re free to go whenever.”

Then, without another word, he tossed the wand back onto the computer and made his goodbyes without another word.

He even left the goo on my belly.

I was about to reach for my own wipes to get it off when Bram moved, catching three paper towels from the dispenser and coming my way.

I held my breath as he gently wiped it clean as Gary the nurse started to chuckle.

“Now you know how awesome our OB is,” he said sarcastically.

I snorted. “He’s not terrible, I guess. I mean, at least he didn’t give us a bunch of bullshit. I would’ve liked to look at the baby some more, though.”

Because I’d just found out about said baby this morning.

After I’d thrown up for the fifth time and realized that something was definitely wrong with me.

You didn’t just have a stomach flu that lasted ten days, and only at three in the morning.

“If you say so.” Gary chuckled, his eyes taking in the man I was studiously ignoring as he wiped me clean. Something he used to do after we’d had sex. Though, that wiping clean wasmuch more intimate than what he was doing now. “Since you’re in good hands here, I’ll go get your discharge paperwork ready. You can head out once I get your John Hancock.”

Then he was gone, leaving me with Bram who was now staring at my belly as if it held the secrets of life.

“You okay?” I asked, pushing his hand away as gently as I could.

He swallowed hard and nodded before he rocked my world.

“Give me another chance,” Bram said into the silence. “Give me one more chance.”

I looked down at the covers that were once again covering my belly.

“If you weren’t here for the papers… why are you here?” I asked cautiously, remembering the earlier phone conversation before the doctor had all but blown his way inside my hospital room.

He looked like I’d just hit him in the chest.

“I’m here because I missed you.”

I blinked.

That thought had never occurred to me.

“You… what?” I asked, unsure what to say.

Or how to react.

What did that even mean?

Then anger replaced the confusion.