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I pull the navy wool hat lower down, looking around us as he guides me to the building with his hand on my nape. The weight and warmth of it is comforting.
“What if something’s wrong?” The question blurts from me as we reach the desk.
Casper shrugs like it’s not a big deal. “We don’t have to do it.”
I’m caught staring between him, the posters of babies around us, and the receptionist who’s still waiting for us to give her our names.
“It’s up to you,” he offers when my gaze settles back on him.
I want to.
He pulls me closer, his hand settling on the back of my neck again before he gives the receptionist our false information. Given he?
??s paying cash, she doesn’t ask for confirmation of our details or proof.
“You understand that the sonogram is non-diagnostic?” she asks, focusing on Casper more than me. She’s so taken by him, and it really bothers me. It’s not because I’m the pregnant one, but because he’s with me. For all she knows he’s mine.
“Yeah,” I snap at her before I go sit in the waiting area she points out.
Casper follows me, and when we’re both seated, he asks, “What was that about?”
There’s a humorous lilt to his words that is humiliating and frustrating. It makes me want to get in his face and slap the funny right out of him.
Instead, I take a deep breath before I look up at him. I’m a bit thrown with the quizzical raise of his eyebrow. He’s so handsome with his sharp, square jaw roughed over with dark stubble and his lips a light pink that’s so inviting. I mean, how’s that even legal?
He looks at me and all my insides twist, threatening to disintegrate along with my dignity and pride.
“What was what about?” My rough voice breaks, and it only serves to piss me off more.
“You bit her head off.”
I’m about to tell him what she wants to do to his head, and not the one on his shoulders, when a tall guy in a long white coat waves us down to the door he’s standing in front of.
He looks more like a doctor than anything else. Something that makes complete sense when he introduces himself as one. He’s cute in a country bumpkin kind of way. His hair isn’t dark or light, blond or brown, and his eyes are the same; they’re a light brown with green and blue flecks.
I look at him and I know what kind of life he’s had—two married parents, a devoted housewife mother and a doctor for a father. He has that ruddy, outdoorsy look that makes me think his dad is probably a vet and they have some kind of farm. He has enough photos on his desk that as he talks us through what we can and can’t expect today, I know I’m right.
“Are you ready?” he asks, offering me his hand.
I’m about to take it when Casper grabs mine and helps me to my feet. He’s acting strange and handsy considering he’s not one for PDA.
Picking me up, he helps me onto the exam table. Pulling off my Uggs, he lifts my legs and turns them so they’re on the bed.
“What’re you doing?” I have to ask him when the doctor steps out of the room.
“Helping you.”
“Why?”
“Why not?” he counters, watching while I pull my top over my belly and then my leggings down, until they’re just keeping my decency. “What do you think it is?”
He’s asked me that before, but I don’t know. I hope it’s a boy because he can be tall and strong like his dad, but then again, I think it would be nice to have a girl.
“I hope that whatever it is, it’s okay.”
“Me too,” he murmurs with a soft smile as he runs his finger over my belly. Goosebumps break out across my skin, making me shiver at the contact.
When the baby moves, he pokes at it and it only makes it swish around more. “It moves around a lot, that’s for sure.”
