CHAPTER THIRTEEN
I wake in Jake’s arms, still wearing last night’s dress.
“Hey,” he says softly beside me.
Turning my face to him, I look straight into his blue eyes.
His black hair is all mussed up from sleeping, but his eyes are wide-awake. He’s been thinking.
Not good.
“How long have you been awake?” I ask, my voice wavering slightly.
“Not long.” He brushes a stray curl from off my forehead.
There’s a moment of still between us.
I don’t know what to say after last night, and it seems neither does Jake.
“Are you okay?” he asks, breaking our silent stare.
Do I need a reason not to be?
“Yes.” I nod, swallowing.
Are you?
Jake closes his eyes, releasing a breath.
What is he thinking? I’m afraid to ask. Afraid he’s changed his mind about the baby.
I watch him, waiting. Opening his eyes, he takes my face in his hand and kisses me.
Deeply. Passionately. Reverently.
It’s a kiss filled with unspoken words, promises, and love. Deep love. The love that has bound us together for nearly three decades.
“We’re having a baby,” I say when Jake’s kiss slows.
“We are.” He tilts his head back, looking into my eyes.
“You’re going to be a daddy.” I can’t read him right now. He’s still holding back from me.
He smiles, but it’s tight. I can see the fear in his eyes that he was hiding a moment ago.
It sparks a pain in my chest. An awful, all-consuming pain.
“Jake, are you…okay?”
“Yeah, just a little—”
“Overwhelmed. Scared. Not ready. Changed your mind,” I blurt out, cutting him off.
He looks puzzled, and then his eyes firm up, his gaze pinning me. “More like ready. Happy. Wanting our baby more than anything.” His hand touches my stomach, and I exhale the breath I was holding. “I’m just worried,” he adds quietly, casting his gaze beyond me.
My stomach tenses under his touch. “About?”
“That the baby isn’t okay.”
“The baby’s fine.” I relax, putting my hand over his, pressing it to my stomach.
“I want you to see a doctor today, Tru.”
“I was planning on going on Monday.”
“It has to be today,” he says tightly. “I’ll get Stuart to arrange it.”
He sits up, turning from me, putting his feet to the floor. I follow, sitting beside him. Turning to face him, I wrap one leg around his front and the other around his back, trapping him.
“Why the rush?” I ask, tilting my head to the side, looking into his face.
Sighing, he meets my eyes for a brief moment, then looks away. “Tru, I’ve spent the last eight years using drugs—the last three, on a daily basis.”
“But you’re clean now,” I input.
“Just over five weeks ago, I wasn’t. Even though I wasn’t using when you got pregnant, those drugs could have still been in my system, and…” He inhales sharply, driving his hand through his hair. He looks down. “I just need to make sure that the baby is okay, that the drugs haven’t had any effect on the baby or caused any long-term damage.” His voice sounds pained.
Fuck. I hadn’t even thought of that. And if Jake’s worried, I need to be too. He never worries unnecessarily.
Afraid but trying to remain positive, I say, “I’m sure the baby will be fine.”
His chest expands on a quick, deep breath. “I’ll believe that when I hear it from a doctor. I need to know today, Tru. Once I know, then I can relax and enjoy this with you.”
I reach over and take his hand, linking our fingers. “Okay,” I say, running my other hand through his soft, inky hair.
Reaching to the bedside cabinet for his phone, he says, “I’ll call Stuart now to make us an appointment with the best pregnancy doctor there is.”
I put my hand on his, stopping him. “They’re called obstetricians, baby. And don’t you think we should tell my folks, and your mum and Dale first, that we’re having a baby, before we tell Stuart?”
“Sure I do, but we’re not telling them until we know everything is okay. I don’t know of a good obstetrician—do you?”
I shake my head.
“Then Stuart it is.”
“How exactly will Stuart know about obstetricians? He might be g*y, but he hasn’t magicked up a vagina overnight that I know of.”
That gets a smile out of him. A small one, but it’s a start.
“Because, smart-ass, there isn’t anything Stuart doesn’t know or can’t find out. That’s why I pay him so well.”
Lifting my hand from his, I say, “Okay, well, just don’t tell him I’m pregnant. Tell him I’m having women’s problems.”
Not only do I want to tell my parents first, I don’t want anyone to know about the baby until I know everything is okay.
I wasn’t worried before Jake said something. But now…now I’m terrified there could be something wrong with the baby.
Three hours later, Jake and I are sitting in the office of Dr. Suzanne Kline, doctor to the rich and famous and the best obstetrician money can buy.
Her receptionist let us into her office. She looked less than happy to be working on a Saturday, but the instant she saw Jake walk in behind me, her face lit up like a Christmas tree.