Page 38 of Uxpectedly Ever After

“Banks.” Finally, she tears her eyes from her phone and hits me with that look—one eyebrow arched, seeing right through my bullshit. “Your leg’s bouncing so hard I’m getting motion sickness.”

I try to force my knee to stay still, but all that nervous energy just reroutes to my fingers, which start drumming against my thigh.

"I’m just thinking."

"About?" She's not letting this go. I shouldn’t have expected anything less.

“Whether I’ll be a good dad.” The words just fall out before I can stop them. I haven't told her about the nightmares screwing with my sleep. The ones where I'm working a forty-eight-hour shift and miss the birth completely. Where I'm just like my old man—physically present but mentally checked out, more committed to the job than to my family. Where Clover and thebaby need me and I'm too busy pulling strangers from burning buildings to be there for them.

Her face goes all soft and sweet and she grabs my hand, lacing our fingers together. Her touch kills the storm in my head and I blow out a breath.

"You're going to be an amazing dad, Banks."

"How do you know?"

"Because I've seen how you are with people you care about." She squeezes my hand and I squeeze hers right back. "I've watched you for years, how protective you get. How you always show up, even when it's hard. Especially when it's hard."

The rush her words give me is like the high I get after we successfully rescue someone from a burning building but more. Bigger, Stronger.

“Yeah?” I can’t keep the stupid grin off my face. My chest feels like it’s about to burst wide open. Hell, I need to hear her say it again.

She rolls her eyes, but her gaze is dead serious. “Yes, dumbass. Our baby is lucky to have you.” Then her voice dips to this quiet whisper, and I have to lean in to hear her. “I’m lucky to have you, too.”

Holy shit. Did Clover James just admit she has feelings for me? After years of pretending she barely tolerates my existence? I want to yank her into my arms, kiss her until she’s breathless, maybe never let go. But before I can even wrap my head around what she said, a nurse steps into the waiting room and calls Clover’s name.

And just like that, we're being lead into an exam room.

It all happens fast after that. Clover disappears behind a curtain to change into one of those paper gowns that leave your ass hanging out, and I try not to pace the five square feet of available space while I wait. A nurse bustles in to take her vitals and fires off a million questions that Clover answers with that calm way she has when she's in manager mode. I love watching her like this—so capable and in control.

It gets me hard as fuck. Or it would, if I wasn’t currently losing my shit.

Then we're alone again and I run my hand through my hair and start pacing again. No way can I sit still right now.

"It's going to be okay," she says, reaching for my hand from where she's sitting on the exam table in that crinkling paper dress thing. "We’ve got this.”

We. I swear that one word just kicked me in the fucking chest. Not her and me separately, but us. A team. After everything, after all the times she’s shoved me away, now she’s telling me we’re in this together. There’s no chance in hell I’m taking that for granted.

The door swings open, and in walks Dr. Reed Walker. Yeah, the same Dr. Walker I pretty much cyberstalked last week. The one I made a fucking PowerPoint presentation about to convince Clover he was the best OBGYN in Portland. The one with the perfect track record, zero malpractice suits, and a waiting list amile long that I somehow got us on by calling in a favor from a battalion chief whose wife works in hospital administration.

But shit, no one bothered to mention in all those five-star reviews that he'd be this young and good-looking. He's tall with perfect hair and a jawline better than mine. And suddenly I'm regretting all those hours I spent convincing Clover this was the guy who should have his hands all over her.

"You must be Clover and Banks," he says with a professional smile, extending his hand first to her. "I'm Dr. Walker. Pleasure to meet you both."

I move to stand beside Clover, my fingers wrapping around the back of her neck as I shake his hand with my other one. Maybe I squeeze a little harder than necessary. Do I feel like an asshole? Yup. Do I care? Nope.

"Nice to meet you," I manage through clenched teeth.

Clover shoots me a look that clearly sayswhat the actual fuck are you doing?but I catch the little twitch at the corner of her mouth and the tension in my shoulders loosens. I think she likes me being a possessive dick, at least a little.

“I’ve heard great things from Janet in administration,” Dr. Walker goes on, still smiling like I didn’t just attempt to crush his fingers. "She mentioned you're with Portland Fire. Battalion Chief Ramirez speaks very highly of you."

“Yeah, Ramirez is a good guy,” I say, not even pretending to be interested in chit-chat. I want to see my kid on that ultrasound. "I owe him one for pulling some strings to get us in here so fast."

Dr. Walker nods, parks himself on a rolling stool, and starts tapping away on a tablet that I assume holds Clover's chart. He gets right down to business, which I appreciate despite my irrational dislike of him.

"Based on your last period and everything you've told me, you're about eight weeks along," he says, looking up at Clover. “How have you been feeling so far?”

"Like absolute garbage," she admits, and I hate how pale she looks under these fluorescent lights. "The nausea is basically constant but gets way worse at night. Try making fancy cocktails when the smell of alcohol makes you want to puke your guts out."

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