After some more intimate moments passed in his arms, he murmured with a soft brush of lips to mine, “Don’t fall asleep yet.”
“I won’t.”
“Are you ready?”
I nodded and whispered, “Yes.”
“And nothing changes us.”
“Nothing changes that we love each other,” I clarified.
“I knew you weren’t all beauty and no brains from the first time I ever heard you speak,” he told me with a wink.
He reached for the test stick on the bedside table and brought it up to the light.
My heartbeat picked up the pace, and it wasn’t from the beautiful orgasms. “It shows a minus sign for negative and a plus sign for positive,” I blurted.
Ethan gave me a very pointed raise of one brow. “Thanks for the tip; I think I might have figured that part out, baby.”
He squinted at the stick.
I laid my cheek down on his chest and tried to breathe.
He just looked at the thing, and then his hand started moving slowly up and down the curve of my spine like before.
It felt like ages of time passed but he remained quiet, just rubbing my back absently with his hand, still connected, his cock still buried inside my body even in its half-hard state, until I couldn’t bear another second of waiting.
“What does it say?” I whispered.
“You have to look at me.”
The self-doubt I’d known for years, the one I had a close, personal relationship with, crept right back in to wreak havoc on all the good feelings we’d just enjoyed together. That fear nearly paralyzed me, but Ethan wouldn’t allow it. He kept up the rubbing, and even nudged me a little to release me from the fear that gripped me.
“Forget about everything else and look at me, Brynne.”
I took a mouthful of courage and lifted my eyes.
From the first moment I knew Ethan, his feelings were always evident—from the expressions on his face to the tone of his voice to his body language. It was easy to know if he was pleased, annoyed, relaxed, aroused or even happy. The happy-Ethan expression was not frequent, but I’d seen it enough times to recognize it.
When I looked at the face he was showing me now, I was certain about one thing.
My Ethan was happy—truly happy about the fact that he was going to be a father.
11
♠ "From the records sent by Dr. Greymont, I’d concur with his findings that you’re about seven weeks along, Miss Bennett.”
The doctor had age going for him, and the fact I’d been taught to respect my elders, because I sure did not like where his hands were right now. Dr. Thaddeus Burnsley had a condom-sheathed ultrasound probe up her snatch as he determinedly searched for the beating heart of our baby.
Good thing he was focused on the monitor and not her quim. It was rather awkward, but hell, it was part of the process, so I’d better get used to it. I have no idea how anyone did that job, though. Pregnant females all day long with their parts out on display? Good lord, the man had to have the constitution of an ox. Fred had referred us to him, so here we were for the first appointment. Ethan Blackstone and Brynne Bennett, prospective parents of Baby Blackstone, arriving sometime early next year.
“So that would be the middle of May?” Brynne looked over from where I sat at her shoulder. I winked and blew her an air kiss. I knew what she was thinking. She was figuring that I impregnated her almost immediately. She would be right too. The caveman in me was pretty proud of myself, as I did the metaphorical Tarzan beat-on-the-ole-chest routine. Good thing I was smart enough to keep my trap shut about it.
“It would seem so, my dear. Ahhh, there we are. Hiding as they like to do when they’re so small. Right there.” Dr. Burnsley zeroed in on a small white blob, in the middle of a larger black blob onscreen that had a heartbeat clipping along at a fast pace, floating in its watery world, making its presence known.
Brynne made a little gasp and I squeezed her hand. We both stared transfixed at the enormity of what we were looking at. What a test tells you becomes very different when you can actually see it with your eyes, and even hear it with your ears. I’m looking at another person. That we made together. I’m going to be a dad. Brynne will be a mum.
“So tiny,” she said in a soft voice.
I couldn’t imagine how Brynne was absorbing all of this, because I was feeling more than a little overwhelmed. I don’t know why, but it suddenly hit me that this was real and we were going to be parents whether we liked it or not. Hannah’s words exactly.
“About the size of a blueberry and very strong from all indications. Has a robust heartbeat and the measurements match up.” He pressed a button that printed a sheet of images and removed the probe. “You’re looking at a delivery date the first part of February, from all indications. You can get dressed and then meet me in my office. We’ll talk some more.”
The good doctor handed the photos to Brynne and left us.
“How are you doing, my darling?”
“Trying to take it all in,” she said. “It’s different actually seeing him . . . or her . . .” She sat up on the table and looked down at the photos, studying them. “I still can’t believe it. Ethan, why are you so calm?”
“I’m not, really,” I answered truthfully. “I’m fucking shaking in my shoes. I want a smoke and a drink and I’m sure you’ll be brilliant at everything and I will be a complete useless idiot.”
“Wow. That’s a big change from last weekend.” She smiled at me. We’d been through this already with Fred. I knew she wasn’t mad. We’d talked it through and both had had our freak-outs at different times and moved on. This was just the first official doctor’s visit and there would be plenty more. We’d both accepted that the sun kept rising and the earth kept turning, so best to just get on with it.
I came over and peered at the pictures. “So the size of a blueberry, huh? Amazing that the little bugger can make you so sick.”
She poked me in the arm. “Did you just call our baby a little bugger? Please tell me I did not just hear you say that!” she scoffed.
“See? I’m already doing it. Totally useless idiot insulting our blueberry-sized baby.” I pushed my thumb at my chest.
She laughed and leaned into me. I wrapped my arms around her and lifted up her chin, very glad to see a light in her eyes. If I could make her laugh, I knew she was doing okay. Brynne wouldn’t be able to fake her feelings with me. If she was sad or really struggling with this, I’d definitely know. Hell, we were both fucking terrified, but I knew without a doubt that she would be very, very good at motherhood. There wasn’t a sliver of hesitation in my mind that it wouldn’t be the case. She’d be a perfect mum.
“I love you, mother of our blueberry-sized baby.” I kissed her, brushing my thumb up her cheek, thinking she looked very bright and glowing right now.
“Thank you for being the way you are with me. If you were any different . . . I just don’t think I could love you like I do. You know?” she whispered the last.
I whispered back and nodded, “I do know.”
She hopped down and pulled on her lacy knickers and then her tan trousers and shoes. “I’ll see what I can do to get you on better terms with the blueberry,” she gestured toward her belly, “I have connections.”
Now she made me laugh. “All right, you sassy thing, let’s go have our chat with Dr. Banana Probe so we can get out of here.”
“Funny. Did I ever mention how sexy you Brits sound when you say banana?”
“You just did.” I grabbed her bum and kissed her again. “I’ll give you my banana if you want.”
Her mouth opened in surprise but she trumped me good. My girl reached her hand right up and cupped my cock and balls. She gave me a good tug and pushed her lovely tits into my chest. “Your banana needs a little work if you’re going to be doing anythin
g nice with it.”
“Holy shit, my sister was right. The hormones make you pregnant females wild for cock. I might die from so much sex.”
She shrugged and turned to leave the exam room. “Yeah, but it’d be a fun way to go, wouldn’t it?”
I took her hand and followed her out, thanking the gods for pregnant hormones, and wearing what I am fairly sure was an idiotic grin on my face.
“Everything looks very good. I want you to start prenatal vitamins, and I approved of the anti-nausea Dr. Greymont prescribed, so continue with that as needed. You’ve stopped all of your other medications?” Dr. Burnsley questioned in his efficient manner.
“Yes,” Brynne answered. “Dr. Greymont said that my antidepressant probably interacted with my birth control pills and that’s how . . .”
“They can be interactive, yes. That is why the instructions recommend double precautions. I’m surprised the dispensary didn’t offer counseling for a new medication.”
“I don’t remember if they did, but it’s not safe for me to take them if I’m pregnant, right?”
“That’s correct. No alcohol, no smoking and no medications apart from the vitamins and the anti-nausea to get you through the next month. After that time you’ll find your appetite increasing and less trouble with the nausea, so you won’t need it. I really want you to get some calories in, though. You’re very slim. Try for a small gain if you can.”
“All right. What about exercise? I like to run a few miles in the morning.”
Good point. Already impressed with her intelligent and thoughtful questions as she went through everything with the doctor, I just sat there listening and tried not to look too stupid. I didn’t miss the part about the smoking either. I heard that message loud and clear. I had to quit. It was fucking imperative that I quit. I couldn’t smoke around Brynne or the baby for the sake of their health. So what does that say about what I’m doing? I knew what needed to happen, I just didn’t know how I would manage it.
“Right now you can continue with all of your normal activities, including intercourse.”
A long pause from the doctor at this point had me thinking nice thoughts about my hormone-ravaged sweetheart and all the ways I could help her out. She, on the other hand, was blushing beautifully, making me hard, and ensuring the rest of my workday at the office would pass achingly slowly as I tortured myself with plenty of erotic thoughts about what might be in store for me when I got home. Such a lucky bastard I am.
“And exercise in moderation is always healthy.”
Oh, I’ll give her plenty of exercise, doctor.
Dr. Burnsley glanced back in her chart again. “But I see here that you work at a gallery conserving paintings. Do you have exposure to solvents and chemicals, substances of that nature?”
“Yes.” Brynne nodded and then looked at me. “Constantly.”
“Ahh, well, that’s an issue. It’s harmful for fetus development if you to ingest fumes that contain lead, and since you work with very old pieces, that is precisely what you’d be in contact with. Modern household paints are no problem, it’s the older chemical compounds that are worrisome. You’ll have to stop that immediately. Can you request some other form of work during your pregnancy?”
“I don’t know.” She looked troubled now. “It’s my job. How do I just tell them I can’t touch solvents for the next eight months?”
Dr. Burnsley lifted his chin and offered a pleasant expression that didn’t fool us for a moment. “Do you want a healthy baby, Miss Bennett?”
“Of course I do. I just didn’t expect—” She gripped the arms of the chair and took a deep breath. “I’ll figure it out somehow. I mean, I can’t be the first conservationist to get pregnant.” She waved her hand and then pulled it through her hair. “I’ll talk to my advisor at the university and see what they can do.”
Brynne gave him a fake smile that told me she wasn’t happy with this little development, but she wasn’t going to argue with his medical advice. My girl was sensible about the stuff that mattered.
I knew how important her job was to her. She loved her work. She was brilliant at it. But if there were dangers with the chemicals, then the job would have to go for the time being. Money was never an issue with her and me. We’d never really talked about it at all. For all intents and purposes she was already moved into my flat, and there was no question of where we were headed down the road. She would be my wife, and what was mine would be hers. We were having a child. Our path was clear, but the nuts and bolts of organizing everything had yet to be sorted. I knew what I wanted, but the timing was so hellish right now there were literally no spare minutes to delve into plans. Not until the Olympics were behind me, at least.
After the weekend pregnancy bomb dropped on our heads, we’d raced back to London and back into work. We hadn’t even told our parents yet, and had my sister and Fred on secret squirrel, under threat of death if they spilled the news before we did.
We were trying to acclimate to everything on top of the immense buildup of obligations for my business, the Games being only twenty-one days off. There was hardly time for this meeting right now. I wished for a smoke. Or three.
Once we were out of the doctor’s office, I put my arm around her and kissed her on the top of the head. “That was fun, baby. Dr. Burnsley is a charming fellow, don’t you agree?”
“Yeah, he’s awesome,” she said sarcastically with arms folded beneath her breasts.
“Aww, come on, he wasn’t that bad,” I cajoled, “he used the banana probe on you.”
“Oh my God, you are a jackass!” She shoved at my shoulder and laughed silently. “Only you could make a joke about that hideous situation and make it funny!”
“But it worked, and that is the point of it,” I told her as we walked.
“I’m kind of worried about my job. I never thought of the possibility I’d have to stop.” She sounded down about it.
“Maybe a leave of absence would be a good thing, though. It would give you time to plan for what we’ve got coming.” I looked down at her stomach but tried to be optimistic and light about it. Best to not delve too deeply and remind her she was going to have to give up something she loved for the next months. “I know I would adore having you home more and you’ll need to have plenty of rest. Maybe this way you can start a project or something that you’ve wanted to work on but didn’t have time for before.”
“Yeah,” she answered noncommittally. I thought I could see the cogs in her pretty head turning with ideas. Hard to say what, because if Brynne wasn’t in a sharing mood, then I certainly wouldn’t know. “I’ll figure it out.”
“Of course you will.” I squeezed, bringing her a little closer, hating that I had to leave her and go back to my office. I wanted hours in bed just wrapped up in each other. It was really all I wanted.
I stopped us on the sidewalk and turned her to me. “But please don’t worry about it too much. I’m taking care of both of you.” I put my hands on her belly. “You and the little bugg—er . . . um, I mean . . . blueberry, are my top priority now.”
She smiled and then her bottom lip started trembling, and her lovely eyes that were very greenish-brown under the summer sky got very wet. She put her hand over both of mine. I watched as one lone tear dripped down my girl’s beautiful face.
I widened my mouth into a smile I could feel. I loved having her like this. Needing me to take care of her and knowing she was going to let me. I really didn’t need a lot. Just her love and the acceptance of mine along with my care.
She rolled her eyes in embarrassment. “Look at me. I am such an emotional freak mess right now!”
“I am looking, and you forgot something, baby. You’re a gorgeous emotional freak mess.” I brushed away the tear with my thumb and licked it off. “I mean, if you’re going to go all out and be a freak mess, you might as well look gorgeous doing it.”
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I got her to laugh a little. “Now, do you fancy a sandwich for lunch?” I looked at my watch. “I wish I had longer for something a litter nicer than takeaway.”
“No, that’s fine. I have to get back too.” She sighed and then smiled at me. “I have an announcement to make at work, it seems.” She took my hand and curled hers around it as we walked.
We happened to be right across the street from the saltwater aquarium shop when we came out of the delicatessen with our sandwiches and settled on a bench to eat. I pointed it out to her and asked if we could stop in quickly as soon as we finished because I wanted to arrange service for the six-month checkup for my tank.
Brynne took a second look at the shop and grinned. “Fountaine’s Aquarium.” Her grin got wider as she took a bite of her turkey sandwich.
“What? What’s making you grin like the Cheshire Cat?”
She didn’t answer my question, but instead asked one of her own. “Ethan, when did you get Simba?”
“Six months ago, I just said.”
“No, what day did you get him?”
I thought about that for a moment. “Well, now that you ask, I believe it was Christmas Eve, actually.” I looked at her and tilted my head questioningly.
“That was you! It was!” Her whole face lit up. “I was shopping for a present for my aunt Marie and it was so freezing cold. I had a bit of a walk ahead of me, so I dipped in there just to get out of the cold for a few minutes and it was nice inside. Dark and warm. I looked at all the fish. I saw Simba.” She laughed to herself and shook her head in disbelief. “I even talked to him. The clerk told me that he’d been sold and that the owner was coming to pick him up.”
Realization dawned on me in a sudden blast. “It was snowing.” I said in amazement.
She nodded at me slowly. “I went to the door to leave and brave the cold again, and you walked in. You smelled so nice, but I never got a look at you because I couldn’t take my eyes off the sight of the snow. It had started while I was inside the shop getting warm—”