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Gathering up the box the test came in, the instructions and the stick, I stuff everything back into the paper CVS bag I brought it home in and shove it in the back of the bottom drawer of my vanity. Rock has no reason to go in there for anything.
“Hope?” Rock calls out.
I finish up in the bathroom. Good thing too, when I open the door, he’s already striding into the bedroom.
“Hey, baby doll.” His smile turns to concern as he looks over me more carefully. “Still not feelin’ okay?”
“Meh. I think I might be getting a cold on top of the stomach thing.” I wave off the concern. “How was church?”
Not that he usually shares much about what they discuss at the table, but the question always automatically pops out anyway.
Today, Rock doesn’t give me one of his usual vague answers.
“Fuckin’ clusterfuck. As usual.” He narrows his eyes and takes me in. “Are you sure you’re all right?” He brushes the back of his hand over my cheek and I lean into his touch. “I’m not used to you not waiting for me outside the war room,” he says in a gentler voice. The warm, gentle tone he saves for when we’re alone.
I want to tell him so bad. I’m used to sharing everything with my husband. Everything.
Not yet.
“How busy are you at the shop right now?” I ask.
He cocks his head and studies me again before answering. “Winter’s coming, so we’ll be slammed with everyone wanting their bike done for spring. What’s on your mind?”
“I was wondering if we could get away for a few days.”
“We just came back from a trip. Are you all caught up at work?”
I shrug. “I can move some things around.”
One corner of his mouth lifts. “Have anywhere special in mind?”
“Not really.” My lips curve up. “Have any presidential visits you need to make?”
“You really took to your first lady duties on our trip, didn’t you?”
“I guess.”
“No, you did.” He takes my hand and pulls me over to the bed. “I know we’ve both been crazy since we got back. I haven’t had a chance to properly thank you.”
“Like what?”
“Putting up with everything. You were such a big help to me. Made me so proud having you on my arm.” He runs the back of his hand over my cheek. “Smartest, prettiest woman in every room.”
I lean into his touch, loving our connection. “I don’t know about that,” I mutter. “But I like that you think so.”
“I know so.” He blows out a breath. “I do have to run downtown for a quick meeting. You can come with me if you want to.”
I hate lying to Rock, so the next day I call my doctor first thing in the morning and they squeeze me in.
“What was the date of your last period?” Doctor West asks.
My cheeks heat with the embarrassment of how careless I am.
“Uh, I’m not sure.”
She raises an eyebrow. “Longer than five weeks?”
“Definitely. But I’m always late.”
A hint of a professional smile ghosts over her lips. “It’s not uncommon. We’ll take some blood, schedule an ultrasound and estimate from there.”
A spike of fear hits. I hate needles.
If I’m pregnant, I better get used to a lot more invasive things than a simple blood draw.
To my surprise and relief, the blood draw is quick and less painful than I expect. I’m bubbling over with emotions the whole time: scared, excited, so damn hopeful.
And guilty that I didn’t tell Rock.
“We should have the results tomorrow. Let’s get you in for an ultrasound on Friday. You’re more than welcome to bring your husband.”
“Will we really be able to see anything this early?”
“Yes.”
“You’ll be able to rule out another ectopic pregnancy?”
She hesitates and seems to think over the answer, which only further spikes my anxiety. “We should be able to from the ultrasound. If not, we’ll order a transvaginal ultrasound. That will show us where the pregnancy is located. Try not to worry.”
Try not to worry my ass. The entire ride home all I do is worry.
Worry about whether I should tell Rock and get his hopes up. Worry if this baby will be healthy. Finding out if I’m actually pregnant and it’s a viable pregnancy is just the first step. There are so many other variables I have to worry about.
It’s not like I’m in my twenties. As if I wasn’t already aware of that fact, the “Pregnant After Thirty-Five” pamphlet the nurse shoved in my hand before I left drove the knowledge home.
I’m ready to explode with the need to talk about this with someone. But I can’t tell anyone before I tell Rock. I just can’t.
Friday. Just a couple days away. Hopefully I’ll have an answer and then I’ll come home and tell him. Good news. Happy news.
And if it’s bad news, I’ll tell him that too, but at least I won’t get his hopes up only to crush them with the pain of losing a baby.
Again.
A baby. Our baby.
My hand settles over my stomach. “Please, please, please be okay,” I whisper.
I’m afraid to admit to myself how much I want this baby.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
I can’t believe I might be a mother soon.
For the longest time I wasn’t sure I even wanted children.
Now I can’t imagine wanting anything more, which means I’m completely freaked out over every little thing.
“Are you sure you’re okay, Hope?” Rock asks, breaking into my thoughts.
For the millionth time since I left the doctor’s office, I consider confiding in him. I’m so damn scared, though. We weren’t planning this, but in my heart, I know he’ll be happy. So, it’s not fear of his reaction stopping me.
It’s fear of getting his hopes up and then failing him again.
Of course, when he finds out I’ve suspected for a while and didn’t tell him, he won’t be pleased either.
“Hope?”
“Yes. I’m fine. Just feeling a little funky.”
“Think you need to take a sick day?”
I imagine I’ll be taking a lot of time off in the near future. Maybe that’s why I’ve been turning down new cases and slowly trying to wrap up my small caseload. Maybe part of me already knew. “No.”
He pulls me in close, kissing the top of my head.
We’re touching. So close and yet there’s a huge gulf between us.
Does he know? Can he feel me holding back?
He places his fingers under my chin. Firm, but so gentle, he tips my head up. His steady gray eyes bore into mine.
&
nbsp; “You seem to have something on your mind lately.”
“I have lots of things on my mind.”
“Anything you want to talk about?”
I duck my head. “I can’t.” It’s not exactly a lie. My throat’s so tight, I don’t think I could form the words to express the storm inside me.
For the next two days, all I do is worry.
Rock’s busy at his shop, catching up on all the custom work that piled up while we were away.
I’m busy preparing for my trial that starts on Monday.
Around noon my doctor’s office calls to inform me that the blood test was positive and confirm the ultrasound for the next day.
I spend most of the afternoon looking up information about ectopic pregnancies, ultrasounds, and maybe peek at a baby name website once or twice.
Boy or girl? I try to push the thought out of my head before it fully forms.
“Hey, partner,” Adam says, standing in my doorway.
I glance up, mouth already twisting with skepticism. He only calls me partner when he wants something.
“What’s up?”
“Think you can handle a case for me tomorrow?”
The ultrasound’s tomorrow morning. Depending on the outcome, I might not even come back to the office.
“Can’t. I have a doctor’s appointment in the morning and then I have to prep for my trial.”
“You all right?”
“I’m fine.”
He leans his shoulder against the door. “So, you never told me. How was the big biker orgy?”
I sigh and close out my latest Google search. “It wasn’t an orgy.”
At least not officially. I definitely saw enough things that could’ve qualified as an orgy. Not that I’d ever share that with Adam.
“Well, you look good. Rested and tan.”
“Thanks, I think. Did I look pallid and haggard before I left?” I tease.
“Nope.” He pops his fist against the door a few times. “You think Mara’s interested in covering for me?”
“I don’t know. Call and ask her.”
He grumbles something and waves before walking away.
The rest of my afternoon goes by quickly. My client comes in so I can review the questions I plan to ask with her. I also go over a list of questions I suspect her ex’s attorney will ask. As much as I try to concentrate, my mind wanders a lot throughout our appointment.
