Page 79 of Own the Eights Maybe Baby
“I’m Briana Casey-Beaver, and this is my husband, Thad.”
Heat rose to Georgie’s cheeks. “Thad. LikeT-H-A-D?”
“Yes.”
“And you’re sure it’s not Chad.C-H-A-D?” she questioned.
“My name is Thad, and the plural or cervix is cervixes,” the man—this so-called Thad—answered.
“A-ha!” she cried, pointing at the guy. “See, you are an ob-gyn!”
Thad’s brows drew together. “Because I know the plural form of cervix?”
Brice raised his hand. “I know that one, too.C-E-R-V-I-X-E-S. Cervixes!” he replied as if he were in a spelling bee.
Georgie’s gaze danced between the adults and the baby, all staring at her like she was a lunatic—which, she just might be.
Was she having a moment? Was she losing her mind? And to make matters worse, she was totally craving a giant glass of pineapple juice. The mixed signals coming from her pregnancy brain were enough to make her head explode.
“You must be a patient of my husband’s twin brother. He and his husband moved to Denver with their kids recently,” Briana said, gesturing to a photo on the foyer table with two remarkably similar-looking men dressed in tennis whites.
Twin brothers.
And then it hit her. While clutching a baby doll inside a stranger’s home, she’d accused a man of leading a double life in front of his wife and child. She took a woozy step back.
“Are you all right? Would you like to sit down?” the doctor, who’d never examined her cervix, asked gently.
She steadied herself, then stilled, paralyzed by mortification, and closed her eyes.
Jordan rubbed her back. “Maybe you should sit.”
She shook her head. “Give me a second. I’m hoping the ground will swallow me up, but that doesn’t seem to be happening,” she replied with a wince of a smile before opening her eyes to find that, yes, she’d gone full-on prego-cray-cray in a private residence owned by people she’d never met before.
Her trifecta threw up their hands and shook their fictional heads. She couldn’t fault them. They’d tried to stop her.
Georgie turned to the doctors. “I am so sorry. I don’t know what came over me.”
Briana shared a look with her husband, then chuckled. “You have nothing to worry about. I think an overactive imagination is a symptom of pregnancy. When I was pregnant with Ollie, I had the most vivid dreams.”
“And don’t forget the grocery store incident,” Thad said, tossing his wife a wink.
Briana’s cheeks grew rosy. “Oh, yes, the grocery store.”
“What happened at the grocery store?” Georgie asked, grateful she wasn’t the only one who’d had an embarrassing pregnancy moment.
Briana shifted the baby in her arms. “I thought there was a conspiracy to hide the tapioca pudding. I craved the stuff like a maniac when I was pregnant, and they always seemed to be out when we were there to shop. Well, one afternoon, the store had been sold out one time too many for my liking, and I went toe to toe with the poor dairy manager, accusing him of treacherous tapioca trickery.”
Thad nodded. “It’s true. My neurosurgeon wife is now known as the treacherous tapioca trickster in the market’s dairy department. And her reputation seems to have spread. They watch her like a hawk in the deli. It’s only a matter of time before they hear about her in the meat and seafood section,” the man teased.
Becca glanced at her watch. “Speaking of time, Brice and I should head over to the restaurant to make sure we don’t miss our reservation, especially since we’re celebrating Thad’s last night.”
Georgie’s gaze zeroed-in on Thad. “You’re leaving?”
He put up his hands in mock-defense. “I am. But I promise. It’s not to go visit a secret family. Briana and I both work with Doctors Without Borders. But now that we have Ollie, I’ll be going alone this time.”
“How long will you be gone?” Jordan asked.
“I’m headed to Central America for eight weeks.”
