Page 83 of Triple Power Play 3
Not wanting her to think I’m disinterested in this aspect of her life—because that’s far from the truth—I set aside my issues and rise from my seat.
I cradle her head and kiss her temple. “It’s not about you, angel. I promise.”
On our way, I’m not bombarded with the scent of bleach. The air smells faintly of roses, and I breathe a sigh of relief.
This isn’t your average doctor’s office, which helps. Earthy tones adorn the walls, and large, expansive windows fill the space with sunlight. The design reminds me of the fancy spas Aurora frequents, and for once, I’m thankful for their privilege.
The nurse takes Aurora’s vitals while we all eagerly observe. “Girl,” she chuckles. “You have quite the fan club.” She removes the blood pressure cuff. “I can see how you got pregnant. Jeez.”
A nervous giggle escapes Aurora, a blush blooming on her cheeks.
Of course, Jackson has to chime in with a snide remark. “I was here first.”
A shit-eating grin spreads across Ethan’s face. “Still not your kid.”
With her brows raised, the nurse shifts her attention to me and awaits my response. Her expression is free of judgment, and the tension in my shoulders melts.
Coming from a strict conservative upbringing, I never imagined the visit unfolding this way. I expected piercing glares, sneers, whispers, or a cold reception at best—none of which I ever want Aurora to endure. That hasn’t been our experience, leading me to accept the plausibility of this foursome.
I shake my head, a subtle smirk curving my lips. “I’m just the bodyguard.”
Despite my lighthearted tone and the nurse’s amusement, Aurora scowls. “That’s not true.”
I intertwine our fingers, and shoot her a wink.
The doctor enters and doesn’t bat an eye at our band of misfits. “Are we adding another to the birth plan?”
Naturally, it’s Ethan who answers. “He’ll be with her most often, so yes, just in case anything happens and we’re unavailable. Also, is it possible to schedule the delivery?”
He may come across as strictly business and indifferent, but this is how he copes. This is how he shows his devotion—by prioritizing what matters to him, by ensuring Aurora and Jackson are safe and well-cared for.
“It depends on the baby’s development and Aurora’s health,” replies the doctor. “If her blood pressure continues to run high, we might be forced to deliver early. What’s your schedule?”
“We’re home from February second to the twenty-seventh. March is crazy. We have ten away games.”
Jax rakes his fingers through his hair. “When can she and the baby travel?”
He and Ethan share a glance. Good luck to Ethan while on the road. His bestie is going to be an absolute nightmare.
“That also depends. She’ll need recovery time based on the difficulty of the delivery. I wouldn’t recommend taking a newborn on a commercial flight or to an arena. It’s best to avoid crowds or anyone but immediate family for several weeks while the baby builds immunity.”
Ethan places a hand on Jackson’s shoulder and massages the curve of his neck. “It’s an eastern tour. We’ll fly privately and stay in New York. We have Reece for that reason.”
Jackson’s skeptical gaze meets mine, contrasted by Aurora’s pleading stare. For a fleeting moment, a surge of irritation wells in my chest. They’re using me, manipulating me.
As fast as it comes, it goes, and I realize where that defensiveness stems from—the military. Not being valued, being taken advantage of, being thrust into dangerous situations,witnessing the loss of friends, all for the benefit of billionaire politicians who’ll never set foot on a battlefield.
What a ludicrous connection, I chide myself. This is not the same. They rely on me. Aurora depends on me, and if Aurora needs me, I’ll unquestionably be there.
“Coffee?” Aurora asks once we’re parked on the street near the bookstore.
I allowed her to sit up front with me for the first time, a decision I quickly regretted. During the short drive, my mind was plagued with thoughts of being in an accident, the airbags deploying, and her getting injured. I glanced at her repeatedly to ensure the seat belt was under her rounded belly properly, not trusting my eyes the last several times.
Because I was focused on her, I almost didn’t catch the car ahead abruptly coming to a stop. I slammed on the brakes, and my arm shot out like a steel bar to protect her, reminding me of my mother when I was a boy.
I take a deep breath to ease the knot in my stomach. “Decaf. Your blood pressure is still high.”
Before exiting the vehicle, I sweep my gaze over our surroundings, then make my way around the SUV to open her door. It’s the day before Thanksgiving, and a fair number of people are strolling the streets of West Hollywood.
