Imogen would be eight months old when his son was born.
His phone dinged before they reached their destination. Looking, he saw it was Mags.
Mags: Gray just texted that she didn’t need me at her appointment. Way to finally pull your head out of your ass.
He shook his head and choked on a laugh. Gray looked at him in question, so he angled his phone so she could read her friend’s message.
“I wondered how you knew where I’d be. I’m going to kill her,” Gray frowned.
“I plan on hugging her. Because of her, I’m sitting next to you. And him,” he spread his fingers wide over her small bump. “I’m grateful that I get to meet the doctor. Hell, Gray, I’m grateful for anything you let me be a part of.”
“Still,” Gray said, her lips pressed tight. Mags would be hearing from her.
He took her hand and placed it flat against his thigh. She glanced sideways at him but left it. “Don’t be mad at Mags. She loves you.”
“I know. I have the best friends,” she sighed.
Ciar felt her words like a punch to the gut. He had great friends, too, or he had. They avoided him because of Gray, and he couldn’t blame them.
The cabbie announced they’d arrived. He paid and helped Gray out, marveling anew at how stunning she looked pregnant. He wrapped his arm around her waist as they entered the fancy lobby of the obstetrics office.
“Ciar,” she warned, trying to shake his arm off. “We aren’t a couple.”
“We are in my mind. Let me at least have this moment.” She had another think coming if she believed he was ever letting her go again.
With a huff, she entered the elevator and selected the third floor. “So, you plan on having him here instead of Scotland?”
She sighed, and her shoulders bowed slightly as if a great weight had been placed on them. “I’ve been indecisive, which is ridiculous considering I’ve never struggled with knowing my own mind in the past.”
He wanted to beg her to have their son in Ireland, but it was too soon. He had to be careful not to chase her off. The doorpinged and slid open, revealing a handsomely appointed waiting room and reception area.
Gray checked in and reminded the smiling woman behind the counter that she was scheduled for an ultrasound.
“Oh yes. I see that. Dr. Beckett likes to make sure the little ones are on schedule, especially for mothers who find out they’re expecting later in the term, in case the date changes. Have a seat. It should only be a few minutes.”
Sure enough, a side door opened, and a nurse stuck her head out and asked for “Gray MacGregor.”
Ciar felt sweat prick his brow, nervous to see his son for the first time. He’d gone to a few of Marie’s appointments, but that was him staying in the background. An observer, not a participant.
The nurse ushered them into a room and took Gray’s vitals and asked a million questions. Satisfied, she told Gray to take her dress off and lie on the table where the ultrasound machine was waiting. There was also a warming cabinet full of blankets.
Gray thanked her while nervously glancing his way. Her dress had a side zipper, loosening the material enough to slip over her shoulders.
She caught the bodice before her lace-covered breasts were exposed. He really shouldn’t be getting turned on in the middle of a doctor’s appointment, but here he was. His throat was scratchy when he tried to swallow, his eyes riveted to every peek of the milky smooth softness of her collarbones.
“Ciar,” Gray pleaded. “Get a blanket, please.”
The “and stop staring” was unspoken but implied. He snatched a blanket from the box and was back in front of her in seconds. He witnessed when she gave up trying to get him not to look and finally stepped out of her dress.
He lost his breath, his mind, everything. Gray was the most gorgeous woman he’d ever laid eyes on before. Now, she was a goddess.
“Fucking hell, baby. You take my breath.” He dropped the blanket on the exam table behind her and, hoping she didn’t swat him away, he wrapped his arms around her body, pulling her tight to his chest and pressing his hands into her bare back.
Every part of her body was lush. Mouthwatering. He palmed the back of her head and tilted her face up toward his.
“Let me kiss you, Gray. Please. Just one.” The last plea was said against her mouth, her whimper setting his body on fire. When he swiped his tongue across her lips, she opened on a gasp and let him inside.
He couldn’t remember where he was, why they weren’t in a bed, or even his name. Gray MacGregor was a toxin and intoxicating. As their tongues twisted, he walked her step by step to the bed behind them. One moment from stripping her panties, he registered someone clearing their throat behind his back.
