He rarely drove his truck but the few times he did he was cautious of the speed limits. I questioned him once, it was when we first dated and I took a ride with him to drive his daughter home. He told me speed limits were enforced for a reason and he wasn’t risking his precious cargo.
Say what you want about men like mine but there is no denying the heart that drives Jack Parrish. It’s bigger than his name, bigger than his patch and even bigger than his club. It’s an honor being his, because being his means I’m loved and cherished.
We pulled up to the doctor’s office and he drops me off in front so I can sign in as he parks the car—and sneak a cigarette. When he meets me inside the waiting room, he smells similar to the little tree air freshener hanging from the rear-view mirror. I bet if I reached into his leather jacket I’d find the ‘new car’ scented tree in his pocket.
He takes my hand and places our joined hands on his knee as he glances around the room, taking in his surroundings, focusing mainly on the poster of a baby.
“Nervous?” I ask, watching as he scratches at the scruff lining his jaw.
“No,” he insists looking back at me. “Anxious,” he corrects.
“Reina DeCarlo?” The nurse calls out and Jack stands first, pulling me to my feet and leading me toward the nurse.
She leads us into an exam room, takes my blood pressure and weight before instructing me to remove all clothing from the waist down and hands me a paper gown to change into. I quickly change, folding my clothes and handing them to Jack who sits on the chair beside me and watches me climb onto the exam table.
“This guy’s got some fucking job,” he grunts, motioning to the stirrups.
I chuckle nervously knowing any minute the doctor will enter the room and introduce me to the second great love of my life.
Jack’s hand closes over my knee as he looks up at me.
“If I forget to tell you…thank you, Sunshine,” he says hoarsely as his eyes bore into mine.
“For what?”
“Everything,” he states simply, moving his hand up to my stomach. “All this.”
The door opens and the doctor walks in, lifting his eyes from my chart to greet us.
“Good afternoon, how are we doing?” He asks, extending his hand to Jack. He lifts his hand from my stomach and shakes the doctor’s hand. The doctor takes a seat on the stool in front of me and signals for the nurse to hand him a new pair of gloves.
“Good, the morning sickness finally eased up,” I tell the doctor, watching as he fits his hands into the gloves and turns on the sonogram machine.
“Very good, the urine sample you gave showed everything else is fine.” He grabs the tube of gel and the sonogram wand. “How about we take a look at this baby and hear that heartbeat?”
“Yes, please,” I say, my voice catching as Jack grabs a hold of my hand and leans forward. I stare at his face and watch his eyes become glued to the screen as the doctor squirts the blue gel over my stomach and presses the wand against my skin.
Kaboom, kaboom, kaboom.
“Is that the heartbeat?” Jack rasps.
“It sure is,” the doctor confirms. He pauses to measure the beats before a smile spreads across his face. “Nice and strong.”
Kaboom, kaboom, kaboom.
I divert my eyes from Jack’s face to the screen as he squeezes my hand and the image of our baby fills the screen.
“Well, I’ll be damned,” Jack mutters.
“That’s the head,” the doctor points out, moving the wand around my belly and laughing. “Well now, look at that.”
“What?” I ask, wiping the tears from my cheek.
“Do you want to know what it is?”
I turn to Jack, his eyes widen as he peels them from the screen and lifts them to mine.
“Do you?” He whispers.
A part of me did but the bigger part of me wanted to be surprised. I don’t know if he read my answer from my eyes or if he felt the same. He turned to the doctor and replied.
“Let’s keep it under wraps, doc,” he states, lifting my hand to his lips.
“Nothing wrong with a surprise,” the doctor says. “Everything checks out. The baby is right on target,” he announces removing the wand from my belly and wiping away the gel. “The nurse will print you out some of the photos and I’ll see you next month.”
“Thanks, doc,” Jack says, handing me my clothes and helping me sit up. The doctor exits the room, and I dress as the nurse prints the photos and hands them to Jack before she leaves us alone.
I am putting on my shoes when I lift my head and see Jack staring down at the photograph in awe. He reaches into his jacket and pulls out his pack of cigarettes. I open my mouth to object but before I can he turns around and steps down on the trash can, opening it and throwing the pack inside. He shoves the photos into his jacket pocket and holds out his hand for mine.
“I quit,” he states.
“Just like that?” I ask, raising an eyebrow.
He lays his hand over his chest, over the pocket where the pictures are safely tucked inside of and shakes his head.