Page 67 of Bain


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I hope we do, not just for the good of the team, but this is the first opportunity for Bain and me to be out as a couple. I’m not sure how it’s going to go and it’ll be a little awkward, but I’m looking forward to being in the group and having someone rather than being the odd one out. That’s silly, I know, but since Bain and I agreed to give this whole relationship thing a go, I find myself willing to trust in a man again.

I always hoped there’d be a day when I could get past my bad experience and be willing to take a chance. Bain made it easy when he committed to staying by my side and helping me raise our child.

CHAPTER 25

Bain

Kiera’s OB-GYN’s officeis not what I expected. It’s not clinical or sterile like other doctors’ offices I’ve been in but rather warm and inviting. It’s a space that’s deliberately designed to be calming. Walls painted in soothing blues and greens, nature-themed art on the walls, the space lit with only natural sunlight through big windows and small table lamps scattered about. If I didn’t know it was a doctors’ office, I would have thought it was a spa.

The receptionist is efficient but warm as she has Kiera fill out some basic forms. Her fingers fly over the keyboard as she takes information down. I stand beside Kiera and glance out over the lobby, filled with couples like us and several women who are alone. I wonder if they’re pregnant and their partner isn’t here or maybe they’re just here for the regular yearly checkup.

Honest to God, I didn’t know what that entailed, but as Kiera and I were researching the upcoming appointment and what would occur, she sort of educated me on Pap smears and I was horrified. I mean, I knew women had them, but I didn’t know about tables and stirrups and what sounds like a torture device Kiera called a speculum.

After she’s checked in, Kiera and I sit together on a small sofa. There’s a coffee table and I’m a bit cramped, but it’s all good as Kiera leans her weight into me. I glance around, observing the other couples. Some are fidgeting while others chat quietly. The married couple adjacent to us are discussing baby names, which is something they need to decide soon as she’s very, very pregnant. They’re called by the nurse and the husband stands first and has to help his wife up from her chair. I bite back my grin, knowing I’ll relish doing that for Kiera one day because she’ll hate needing the help.

I get a few looks from some of the men here, likely trying to determine if they recognize me. I wore a khaki baseball cap with an Audi logo on it. No clue where I got it from because I’ve never had an Audi, but it was in my closet with about a hundred other caps I’ve collected. I steered clear of anything with a Titans or Vengeance logo, though, as I prefer not to get recognized here.

Kiera flips through a magazine, the picture of serene contentment. She hasn’t seemed anxious about this appointment, but I’m not sure she’d admit it if she was. She likes to showcase her resilience and independence. I, on the other hand, am a buzzing mixture of nerves and anticipation. My heel rhythmically taps on the carpet as I wait to see the miracle of life I helped create.

Twisting her neck to look at me, she nods down to my bouncing leg. “Nervous?”

“No,” I lie.

Her grin tells me she doesn’t buy it for one second, but she doesn’t call me on my bullshit, instead going back to her magazine. I resist the urge to brush a lock of hair behind her ear, just like I resist the urge to pull her in closer. Every day that goes by, I seem to want more of her.

Last night after we put the Vipers away, the team went to Mario’s. There were wild cheers and applause when we walked in, but I tuned it all out. Despite riding the thrill of the win, all I really wanted was to see Kiera.

She was already there with the other women waiting for us. They all stood around a few tables laughing. Kiera’s so fucking beautiful when she laughs and I stopped just to stare at her until Camden plowed into me.

It was hilarious to find all the women wearing matching T-shirts. Jenna had them made and they’ve officially proclaimed themselves as the “Titan Queens,” their new title emblazoned on the front breast pocket. The back reads “The real power behind the Titans” and I roared with laughter when I saw it.

But I also paid attention to the weird sensation of possession flowing through me. I slipped my hand behind Kiera’s neck and pulled her closer so I could whisper, “I’m going to take that shirt and have my name and number put on the back.”

I’ll never forget the look she gave me. I’ve watched a myriad of expressions cross over Kiera’s face since we first met. I’ve seen lust, humor, fear, passion, sadness and utter calm. But last night when I told her I wanted my name on her shirt, there was a blaze of joy within a breathtaking smile laced with hopefulness.

It was a silent message that she was looking forward to a future with me the way I was with her. I made her happy and I was struck by a realization that I wanted to make her feel like that, always.

At Mario’s, we were an unmistakable couple and it was an absolute new experience for me. Kiera, with her warm smile and sparkling eyes, had been a part of the team, but as my friend, not my girlfriend. For me, a player who had never taken relationships seriously, to have her beside me, to have my arm draped around her, it just felt right.

I took ribbing from some of the guys. Kirill was gleeful in giving me good-natured shit. “Bain, always scoring on and off the ice.”

I laughed along with them and accepted bro hugs. Hendrix clapped me on the shoulder and squeezed. “I didn’t think you had it in you, man. But I think you’ll make a hell of a dad.”

And the guys… they were good with Kiera. They congratulated her, pulled her into bear hugs, already referring to our unborn child as the newest little member of the team. I loved seeing that, watching her blush, the way she’d laugh, the happiness radiating from her.

The whole night was surreal. I’d transitioned from a playboy to a man deeply connected to a woman. It was a full one hundred and eighty degree change from who I used to be and I have no self-recrimination from straying so far from my hard-core single values. Kiera makes me want to embrace the change.

“Ms. McGinn.” I blink out of my reverie as Kiera stands. I scramble up after her and she reaches out her hand for me to take.

A nurse with a friendly smile leads us down a hallway. It’s decorated with the same calming colors and along the walls are pictures of the babies the doctors here have delivered. Each step I take makes my heart pound with a little more anticipation.

The first stop is a small alcove with a built-in desk where a laptop sits. The nurse records Kiera’s blood pressure and weight, then hands her a cup for a urine sample. I lean against the wall to wait.

The nurse ignores me and types into her laptop. When Kiera returns, we’re led into the exam room and my eyes are immediately drawn to the table with the stirrups that Kiera had described to me.

Handing Kiera a gown, the nurse says, “Only need to disrobe from the waist down.”

“Because we’ll be doing a transvaginal ultrasound?” Kiera asks.

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