Total pages in book: 56
Estimated words: 53521 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 268(@200wpm)___ 214(@250wpm)___ 178(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 53521 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 268(@200wpm)___ 214(@250wpm)___ 178(@300wpm)
He sighs and runs his hand through his hair. “It’s a high step,” he mumbles, closing my door.
As I put my seatbelt on, he climbs into the driver's seat and glances over at me. “Are you comfortable?”
“I’m fine,” I say.
I give him the address to the doctor and he puts it in his GPS before pulling away.
“How are you feeling?” he asks, keeping his eyes on the road.
“Tired, but good.”
“Are you eating healthy? Are you drinking enough water? Are you taking prenatal vitamins?”
My eyes widen as I stare at him. I know he’s asking because he’s concerned for the health of his child, but for some unexplainable reason, it pisses me off.
“Seriously? You think I don’t know how to take care of myself?”
He shakes his head, gripping the steering wheel tighter. “I found out yesterday that you’re carrying my baby. I think I at least deserve to know that you’re taking care of yourself.”
I close my eyes as I let his words sink in. When I first found out, after the near panic attack, I started reading and googling everything. Maybe that’s what he did too. He does deserve to know.
“I’m sorry. Yes, I’m eating healthy and drinking plenty of water. I am also very good with taking my prenatal vitamins. Although they make me feel sick so I take them right before bed.”
His head snaps to me quickly before he focuses back on the road. “Why do they make you sick? Is that bad? Is it hurting the baby?”
I suddenly feel a ping in my chest from his reaction. He’s worried about me and the baby. It’s as shocking as him opening my car door. I reach over and rest my hand on his arm. He looks down at it a little too long before realizing he needs to look at the road in front of him.
“It’s normal for them to make you feel sick. I checked with the doctor. She said most women take them before bed so they don’t get that sick feeling. Since I’ve been doing that I’ve been good. The baby is not bothered by me feeling sick, that’s my body, not his or hers.” I remove my hand and fold my hands together on my lap.
“So you don’t know if it’s a boy or girl yet?” he asks.
“No, you can’t tell until five months or so.”
He glances at me and I swear I see a softness in his eyes. “How far along are you?”
“Not so good with math, huh?” I say, laughing at my own joke. He doesn’t appear to find it as funny, so I clear my throat to get my laughter under control. “I’m four months.”
He doesn’t say anything, just nods as he pulls into the parking lot of the doctor’s office. He parks the truck, turning off the engine. Before I can open my door, he reaches over and rests his hand on my thigh. It brings me back to that night and I remember vividly what his strong hands felt like when they touched me.
“We need to sit and talk about everything,” he says.
I nod, finding it difficult to find my voice. His damn touch is turning me on and I can’t have that right now. I can’t have that ever.
I open my door. “Yeah we do. How about we go get something to eat after this?”
He agrees and I climb out of the truck before he can lift me out.
Once I’m signed in at the doctor, I sit down next to Shepherd. He’s thumbing through a magazine and when he gets to an article about breastfeeding, he quickly closes it and tosses it on the table in front of us.
“So, what happens when we go back there?”
I shrug, crossing my legs. “This is only my second time here, so I have no idea. I’m hoping to hear the heartbeat again though.”
He searches my eyes and I hate how I get sucked into his dark stare.
“You heard the heartbeat?” he whispers.
I’m not sure if what I see is hurt or hope in his eyes. Either way, it makes my heart squeeze. “I did. It was strong and healthy.”
“Felicity,” the nurse calls out.
I stand up, feeling like our moment was rudely interrupted. Shepherd follows right behind me, keeping his hands in his pockets as we step into the room.
“How’s everything? Are you feeling okay?” the nurse asks.
I sit on the table as Shepherd stands in the far corner. “Everything is good.”
“Great.”
She takes my blood pressure and asks a few questions before telling us the doctor will be in shortly. As the door closes when she leaves, Shepherd keeps his eyes focused on the floor.
“You can sit in the chair, ya know.”
“No, I’d rather stand.”
I nod, unsure what to say. It’s strange having him here. Hopefully, I’m not getting an internal exam, or something. That would be awkward.