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“I wish we had time for this, baby, but you need to call your doctor, and you have plans in about an hour.”
I cock my head to the side, wondering what he has up his sleeve. “I do?”
“You do. So, get to it.”
I slide off of his lap and trek back into the bedroom to get my phone. I dial the number to my gyno’s office and sit on the edge of the bed. A quick conversation with the receptionist, and I have the name of their recommended maternal medicine doctor. As luck would have it, it’s one of the doctors on West’s list.
After looking up the office number, I hit dial, once again following the answering service prompts. A brief hold later and a perky voice greets me. “Thank you for calling Cottonwood OB-GYN, this is Kaylie. How can I help you today?”
“I was hoping to make an appointment with Dr. Flory.”
“Okay, and what would you be coming in for?”
I mentally facepalm; of course she would need to know this. “Oh, um, a positive pregnancy test.”
“Do you know the first day of your last period?”
I think back, again trying to remember. “I don’t, I’m sorry.”
“No worries, our ultrasound technician will get your dates sorted. Are you a current patient of our practice?”
“No, Dr. Presley referred me.”
“Alrighty then. Let me get a little info from you.” Kaylie proceeds to ask me what feels like a million questions. “It looks like the earliest we can get you in is four weeks from now. Does that work for you?”
A thread of worry loops through me. “Um. Is that…safe? Like, do I need to be seen sooner?”
Kaylie chuckles lightly. “We don’t usually see expectant mothers until eight weeks, and most—though not all—usually find out they’re pregnant at around four or five weeks. So it should be just fine.”
“Oh,” I say, breathing out a sigh of relief. “Then yeah, that’s fine. Should I get some prenatal vitamins or anything to take?”
“It certainly won’t hurt. You can buy them almost anywhere. A few days before your appointment, we’ll send our new patient paperwork to the email you provided. If you’ll go ahead and fill it out, it will save you time here in the office.”
I thank her and end the call, immediately plugging the appointment date into my calendar.
Back in the living room, West is still on the couch. Only now, he’s looking at…surely my eyes are deceiving me. “Oh my God, are you looking at car seats?”
He looks back at me. “Don’t hate. Kid’s gotta have one, right?”
I roll my lips inward to suppress my grin. “Mmhmm. True.”
“I feel like you’re silently laughing at me.”
I tilt my head to the side and lift one shoulder. “Maybe a little.”
West places his laptop down and stands to face me fully. “Sure, go ahead and laugh at the man who booked you a spa appointment with your bestie later today.”
“Wait, what?”
“That’s right. Figured you and AJ could use some girl time since I’ve been keeping you all to myself.”
I stare at him like he’s some mythical creature; he’s definitely a unicorn among men, that’s for sure. “Thank you,” I murmur, feeling oddly emotional.
“Like I said, anything for you.” He moves closer to me and takes my hand in his. “Did you get an appointment?” As he talks to me, his index finger strokes absently over my left ring finger.
I fill him in on the time and date, and he adds it to his calendar as well. “You better go get ready if you don’t want to be late.”
I pop up onto my toes and kiss him square on the lips. “I love you; you’re the best.”
West palms my ass and hauls me closer. “I love you, too, baby mama. And I’m the man you make me want to be. You deserve the best, so that’s what I’ll strive to be.”
His words float over me, wrapping me in their warmth. I don’t know how we got to where we are now, not really, but my God, I’m glad we got here.
Chapter Thirty-Three
Stacia
West spared no expense for AJ and me at the spa. He set both of us up with out of this world massages, deluxe facials, and mani-pedis with paraffin wax. Oh, and he even thought ahead to have lunch catered by one of the restaurants within the hotel where the spa is.
From the second she saw me, AJ was chomping at the bit to pump me for information. Luckily, the quiet atmosphere of the massage room kept her questions at bay.
Our facials bought me a little more time—I mean, it’s hard to talk with goop and steaming towels on your face.
Now, however, AJ and I are both relaxed and recharged as we sit in side-by-side pedicure chairs. “So, talk to me,” she says, her body lightly vibrating from the movements of the built-in back massager.
