“You didn’t have to come with me.” I rock side to side on my butt to scoot back on the table, the crinkling sound of my paper gown bouncing off the walls of the exam room. As every day brings me closer to my due date, it’s getting harder and harder to move.
Blake glares at me from his position on the wall, leaning, arms crossed, and looking more uncomfortable than I’ve ever seen him. “Why wouldn’t I come with you?”
I study him, head to toe, and even though he’s nervous, his presence alone fills the room. A tiny grin pulls at my lips. “Um . . . maybe because you look about as comfortable as a nun in a sex-toy shop.”
“I’ve been to a couple of your appointments before.” His Adam’s apple bobs, and I can make out the pinch of his eyebrows beneath the low brim of his black ball cap.
“You came to the first and my ultrasound. This time I’ll get a physical exam.” My eyes widen and dart to the stirrups, trying to communicate what I’m saying without actually having to say it.
He cringes slightly and drops his gaze to his feet. Message received.
With his chin to his chest and his eyes off me, I use this moment to admire him fully. Big arms are encased in a red long-sleeved T-shirt, which hugs every rigid muscle I’ve explored, memorized, over the last ten months. Jeans hang low on narrow hips but pull tighter at his thighs. My tongue darts out to moisten my lips, and I’m lost to my thoughts of Blake naked. Raging pregnancy hormones have turned me into some sort of sexual maniac.
“Mouse.” The way he drags out my nickname on a growl draws my eyes to his piercing green ones below the brim of his hat. “You’re already naked, with nothing between us but some flimsy-ass paper gown. I’m not above stepping between your legs right here if you keep lookin’ at me like that.”
I clear what I’m sure will be a lusty rasp to my voice with a close-mouthed cough. “Oh, sorry, and no, let’s not traumatize the staff.” My actions contradict my words as my eyes continue to study his thick neck, shoulders, chest—
“Fuckin’ hell, woman.” He moves but freezes when a soft knock sounds at the door.
My eyes dart to his, and I stifle a giggle at the look of disappointment that washes over Blake’s face. “Come in!”
The door opens, and in walks a nurse I’ve seen on a few of my previous visits. “Hey, Layla.” She startles slightly when she catches Blake, who has resumed his position at the wall. “Oh hey.” With a hand extended, she shakes Blake’s. “Nice to see you again. I’m Cassie, Dr. Evan’s assistant.”
“Yeah, I remember. Blake.” He nods and leans back against the wall.
Cassie’s eyes come to mine. She’s young. If I had to guess, I’d say she’s around Blake’s age, with a round face, big eyes, and the kind of skin that’s probably never seen an ounce of makeup, not that she needs it.
She flashes me a kind smile. “So, Layla, are you getting excited? This could happen any day now.”
Butterflies explode in my belly, or is that the baby, heartburn? “I’m excited, yeah, but also a little sick of feeling like a stuffed turkey.”
“You’re ready, which is totally understandable at thirty-eight weeks.” She pulls up a rolling stool and opens her file folder to ask me some routine questions. “Any sign of the mucus plug?”
Blake groans until he notices us staring at him. “My bad. Go on.”
What a baby! And even still my stomach does somersaults at his childlike sensitivity to all things mucus.
A few more questions and Cassie stands. “Okay, everything looks good. I’ll let Dr. Cole know that you’re ready. We’ll check to see if you’re dilated and/or effaced, and send you on your way.”
“Great. Thanks, Cassie.” She exits the room, and I search out Blake, who has now taken a nearby chair and looks a little pale. “Blake, you okay?”
He leans back, pulls his hat off to run a hand through his cropped hair, and then pops his hat back on. “Yeah, I’m good. It’s just . . .” His gaze sweeps over my bare belly, which is poking out from the open front of my gown. “I know it’s stupid. I just hate anyone seeing you naked, touching you . . . down there . . .” He shakes his head. “Fuck, sounds ridiculous hearing me say it.”
Warmth spreads through my chest. “I kinda like that you want my nakedness to be for your eyes alone. But it’s the OB and it’s important.”
“I know. I’m sorry. It’s just . . .” He tilts his head to peer up at me. “Will it hurt?”
“No, it doesn’t hurt. They just check my cervix with their fingers and—”
“That’s enough.” He holds up his hand. “I don’t want to know.”
I giggle. “It’s no different from when you use your fingers—”
“Oh hell no.” His head swivels from side to side. “It better be different. It better be a fuckuvalot different, Mouse.” He rubs his eyes. “Great, now I’ve got that visual runnin’ through my head.”
“I love you, Blake Daniels.” I outstretch my arm. “Now get over here and hold my hand.”
He pushes to standing and takes my hand, bringing my knuckles to his lips just before another small knock sounds at the door.