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The baby jerks, a whole-body movement, and a tear rolls out of my eye.
Holy hell. That’s my baby.
A real baby.
Tyler’s grip on my hand tightens even more as he lifts it and kisses my knuckles. “Wow,” he breathes, his voice thick.
I don’t even think I can talk right now. I’ve never been so amazed by anything in my whole life. It’s incredible that the most mesmerizing thing I’ve ever seen is a tiny baby on a screen.
“You’re nine weeks and four days,” she says. “Your due date is… Ah. Christmas day.”
I chew the inside of my cheek. Of course it would be. Tyler doesn’t do anything by half.
She takes the probe away from my stomach and instructs me to wipe the gel off my stomach. Tyler does it for me, drying it with a clean piece of tissue. I roll my hospital gown back down, thankful I put on my big panties yesterday.
“Here,” the sonographer says, handing me three squares.
I look down at the still photos of the baby and smile. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.” She smiles.
Tyler helps me into the wheelchair and I grab my IV pole. He wheels me out of the room and into an elevator after thanking the woman himself.
“Baby,” he says, brushing the photo with his finger.
“Your baby.”
“Our baby.” He looks at me firmly then straight back at the image. He looks at it even as he pushes me out of the elevator and back to my room.
A nurse holds the door open for him, a knowing smile on her face. I sit on the bed, still clasping the pictures, and he puts the wheelchair to the side of the room.
“You look like you’re in love already,” I tease.
His lips tug up into a half grin. “How could I not be? The baby is a part of you.”
I turn my cheek into his palm when he strokes the side of my face. “We’ll be okay, won’t we? You, me, and the baby? We’ll make it work?”
“We don’t need to make it do anything. It already works.” He perches next to me. “I promise you, baby girl. We’ll all be okay, because for once in your life, you’re going to do what I want without arguing with me.”
I raise my eyebrows. “For once? So all the times I did what you wanted in bed don’t count?”
His grin turns sexy. “You had to do that. We had an agreement.”
“But they still count!”
“When you’re better, you’ll have to remind me of how they count.” He curves his fingers around the back of my neck and kisses me. “Until then, though, you’re moving in with me.”
“You already decided that.”
“I know. But now I’m deciding again. And while you’re resting in bed, growing that beautiful baby and not vomiting all over my shiny toilet”—I punch his leg—“you can house hunt.”
“House hunt?”
“Yes. For us.”
I blink at him. “Um.”
“Somewhere close to Day’s place.”
