My throat gets tight in that way it does when he’s poured too much into me and I don’t know what to do with. “I mostly sit here and order around Juno and Theo while eating snacks. I’m not sure that’s amazing. I’m a pregnant trash panda.”
He snorts. “The most beautiful trash panda I’ve ever seen.”
“You’re biased.”
“Still right, though.”
I huff a breath. “Biased,” I repeat. “If you’re serious about helping, I have two displays to get up before the end of the day.”
“Just tell me what you need.” He turns me to face him, his hands drifting again to my bump. “And when we’re done here, why don’t I take you home, run you a bath and afterwards we can curl up on the couch with takeout from that Thai place you like? What do you think?”
He asks. He doesn’t tell me or try to force me like he would have done in the past.My eyes light up. “Only if you throw in a foot rub as well. My arches are on fire.”
He kisses my forehead like I’m precious, like I’m something to cherish and adore. “Deal.”
EIGHTEEN
MIA
The gel iscold as it hits my belly. My breath hitches, my fingers tightening around Jensen’s. He squeezes back, calm and reassuring.
The sonographer winces. “Sorry, I know it’s cold.”
“It’s fine,” I smile as she presses the probe just below my belly button and takes a seat in front of the ultrasound monitor. “You’d think I’d be used to it by now.”
There’s definitely no hiding the fact I’m pregnant anymore. In the last few weeks, my bump has grown into a defined curve that my husband cannot keep his hands off.
Even now, he’s rubbing his knuckles along the side of my belly.
I wince as the sonographer applies pressure. My bladder is bursting, and it takes every ounce of self-control not to embarrass myself.
I stare at a spot on the ceiling, clenching internally like my life depends on it.
Jensen presses a kiss into my hair. “You alright, beautiful?”
I hum, breathing through my nose like it’ll help. It doesn’t. “Just concentrating on not peeing my pants.”
The sonographer shoots me a sympathetic look. “I’m sorry about that, too. I wish we could do these scans without a full bladder, but it makes it easier for us to see your cervix. You’ll be able to use the bathroom in a moment.”
Jensen strokes my hair, his eyes soft, like I hold his entire universe in my uterus. “You nervous?”
I nod. “A little.”
That’s an understatement. I’ve been on edge all week waiting for this appointment. In true Jensen fashion, he booked out the entire clinic again so that it’s just us here, and this time, I’m grateful for that. If there’s something wrong with the baby, if my pregnancy isn’t progressing how it should, I don’t I want an audience for that.
“The baby will be fine.” He repeats the same words he’s given me all week while I’ve been fretting over this. “We’re just going to have a little peek to make sure they’re snug in there and then find out whether you’ve given me the gift of a daughter or son.”
My eyes burn when he says things like that. The way he already loves our child is beautiful.
“Okay,” the sonographer says. “Everything looks good, so you can go pee and then we’ll finish the scan.”
Jensen helps me sit. His arm wraps around my back, and he supports me as I slide off the table. My belly isn’t huge, but my center of gravity isn’t where it used to be so I have to be careful.
He helps me into the bathroom, and as soon as I start peeing, I groan with relief.
“Baby, that sound isn’t human.”
I look up at him. There’s no dignity anymore. I don’t even care that he’s watching me on the toilet. There’s no part of me he hasn’t seen anyway. He’s been inside every inch of my body. “You’d make that sound too if your bladder was burning and close to bursting, Jensen.”
