Chapter 64
CHAPTER 64
BETH
E verything must remain a secret. I can’t risk Nolan finding out about this baby before I’ve fully decided what I’m going to do. This is all new to me, and I doubt Oliver has much experience with this, if any.
“You don’t have to come with me if you–” I trail off when he gives me a stern look before pulling his light gray thermal over his head. This man takes way less time to get ready than I do. He just throws on clothes and is ready to walk out the door.
I know he doesn’t like me asking him if he doesn’t want to do something with me, but I’d expect this to be something he’d avoid or just wants no involvement in.
Oliver doesn’t even so much as reference my pregnancy in conversation. I have no clue how he feels about this whole thing. Is he trying to ignore it, hoping it goes away? Maybe he secretly hopes it’s Martin’s baby?
Calm your horses, Beth.
“Let’s go,” he mutters before he grabs me, pulls me into him, and kisses me.
If anything is going to calm my nerves, it’s the possessive yet loving way he claims my mouth. Everything is going to be okay.
We leave the hotel room and make our way to his car. He doesn’t try to open the door for me, like nothing has changed at all. Has anything changed?
No, it hasn’t because even though we had crazy amounts of mind-blowing sex, we still have an expiration date, and we don’t even know if he’s the father of this baby. More than likely, he isn’t, but I don’t want to rule him out completely until a paternity test has been performed. That would be unfair to him and this baby.
Oliver and I had sex three times in two months. Until I have a roundabout conception date, I won’t be able to decide whether a paternity test is even necessary. For all I know, I got pregnant after Nigel asked me to move in with him. It’s possible that the blood test just picked it up early. I fasten my seat belt as I adjust my skirt. He sends me a confused glance before he chuckles.
“I’m perfectly happy staring at your panties while I drive, baby.”
I roll my eyes. “Ugh. Men.”
He grins as he drives out of the parking lot and heads out of Grove Hill and toward downtown Houston.
* * *
What’s the best way to hide my pregnancy from the Gray family patriarch? First, I have to visit an OBGYN far from Grove Hill and Nolan’s reach. I chose one so far out it's almost too far. Ninety minutes from my hotel seems far enough.
Ollie holds the door to the doctor’s office open for me, and I grin at the gentlemanly behavior of a man who is the opposite of a gentleman in every way possible.
We walk up to the admission desk and are checked in quickly as a girl around my age walks up to the lady behind the desk next to the one helping me.
“I’m sorry. We have no open appointments, and we do not accept walk-ins,” the older lady behind the desk says as the girl beside me pulls off her sunglasses. She looks exhausted, with dark circles under her eyes.
“Listen,” she mutters. I hate eavesdropping, but something about her has gained my attention. “The guy I had a one-night stand with last night didn’t use protection. The pharmacy won’t give me the morning-after pill without a prescription. I will pay cash to see a doctor for five seconds and get a prescription. I’m a nineteen-year-old college student, for god’s sake. Just please!”
My heart goes out to her. That can’t be easy. I’m only eighteen, but I’m not worried about getting knocked up. I am knocked up. She must be so freaked out.
The receptionist gives her a nasty look before saying, “You should’ve thought of that before you spread your legs.”
Rage simmers beneath the surface, and I’m sure smoke is coming out of my ears.
“How dare you,” I growl at the receptionist as I move toward her, heat billowing off of me in waves. “You work in a medical office, and you have the sheer audacity to slut shame a teenager. Isn’t it against the law for a person working in the medical field to allow their personal or religious beliefs to affect the way they treat a patient? You just turned her away and treated her like shit because she’s looking for emergency contraceptives. It is her right to be able to take the necessary precautions. Would you say the same thing to someone who came in here looking to get on birth control?” I cross my arms over my chest, fuming at this old lady.
Respect the elderly? Screw that. She needs to show this girl the respect she deserves and a little compassion. If she can’t do that, she should retire and go home.
The receptionist blanches at me like she assumed I wouldn’t stand up for this girl. “This is a private matter, miss.”
“It stopped being private when you decided to be disrespectful and rude to this young woman when she’s only looking for help. She deserves an apology, and if pharmacies won’t give emergency contraceptives without a prescription, she needs an appointment. If you don’t cooperate, I’ll make sure to let the doctor know how horribly you have spoken to Miss…” I trail off before looking at the girl, who sends me a grateful smile.
“Becky Hodges.” She fills in the blank while clutching her purse to her side.
“I’m sorry, ma’am,” the rude receptionist starts before looking at Becky. “But, we do not have any appointments available. And all of our appointments for tomorrow have been taken. I suggest trying your primary care physician. Any doctor can write a prescription.”
The receptionist quickly slips away like she thinks I might launch myself over the counter at her.
“Thank you anyway,” Becky mutters as I turn to her.
“No problem. She was being a complete bitch to you, and I won’t stand for stuff like that. My name is Beth, by the way,” I introduce myself, and Oliver wraps his arm around my waist, holding me back against his chest.
There’s something that feels so untapped about him touching me in public. He understands that we need to keep things quiet…or, as Nolan put it, “discreet.” The only time we can be “out” and “affectionate” is far away from Grove Hill.
I can’t get enough of feeling like it’s okay for him to touch me. I really like the way he does it.
“And this is Oliver.”
He nods against my shoulder but doesn’t say a single word to her, but she doesn’t seem to be affected by his silence.
“It’s nice to meet both of you. Again, thank you so much for standing up for me. She’s like the fourth person to say that to me today. I don’t know what to do, but I gotta keep trying. I guess I’ll check more doctor’s offices and see if anyone has availability.”
I give her what I hope is an encouraging smile before grabbing her hand, and I squeeze her fingers in reassurance.
“Good luck.”
* * *
I asked Oliver if he wanted to wait in the waiting room for me to be done, but he insisted on coming into the room and being present for this whole process. I have no clue what’s happening in his head, but I don’t have time to ask before the doctor enters the room.
I’ve already stripped down my lower half and sat down for the examination so, I’m not exposed to the middle-aged male doctor.
“Hello, Miss Mercer. What’s brought you in today?” he asks in his gravelly voice even as he flips through a chart in his hands, not even looking at me.
Rude.
“I had a car accident and was taken to the hospital. They did some blood tests and discovered that I’m pregnant, but I don’t know how far along I am.”
He nods, still scanning the papers in his hand.
“How old are you?”
“Eighteen.”
“And when was your last menstrual cycle?” he presses monotonously.
“I have irregular cycles. I usually go months without having one.”
“Again, when was your last one?”
I roll my eyes. “Four months ago.”
“And you’ve been sexually active in that time?”
“Obviously, unless you’re expecting Baby Jesus to come flying out of her vagina,” Oliver grumbles as he clenches his fist. He’s probably seconds from bashing this doctor’s face in just for his stupidity alone.
The doctor’s head snaps up and instantly moves to Oliver, who scowls at him as if he’s praying lasers will shoot from his eyes and vaporize the poor doctor.
“I have to ask these questions before every initial obstetrics exam,” the doctor explains before looking directly at me. “Have you had an ultrasound performed yet?”
“No. They didn’t do one at the hospital.”
“We’ll start with that and move from there. Shall we?” He motions to the exam table with his hand as if it should be obvious what I’m supposed to be doing.
One, I’ve been examined before, so I know the general drill. Two, I’ve never had an ultrasound on my lower abdomen, so I have no idea what to expect.
I lay back on the table as Oliver moves beside me and offers me his hand.
The doctor grabs the wand for the ultrasound, but the one he grabs looks like a melted dildo.
Please, tell me that is not going where I think it is.
“Spread your legs, Miss Mercer. This will be painless but a bit uncomfortable.”
Judging from the size of the wand, I would be inclined to trust him on that front. The monster in Ollie’s jeans is still bigger. Taking a deep breath, I let my legs fall apart, and he put a glob of gel on the end. His hand with the wand disappears under the sheet. He presses it inside me, and I groan from the irritation of pressure inside my cunt.
“There we go.”
The screen turns bright white before fading out to black with gray shadowing until I see it–the bubble that holds the baby inside me. It’s my baby, and it looks so comfortable in its temporary home.
My heart warms and stretches to accommodate one more love, the love for this life growing inside me.
“I’ll take a few measurements, and we’ll figure out how far along you are,” the doctor says, and that snaps me out of it.
How the hell is he going to take measurements?
I really feel like an idiot when he uses the buttons on the ultrasound machine to measure the picture of the baby. Then, he clicks on the pulsing circle on the baby’s body, and the sound of a rapid heartbeat fills the room.
Perfection. Absolutely melodic and beautiful.
“Looks like you’re nine weeks in gestation.” The doctor’s words send me reeling. I did quite a bit of research concerning calculating the time of conception. The conception is believed to be two weeks before what is considered to be “pregnant” meaning one is pregnant before they are even knocked up, medically speaking.
“You mean I conceived seven weeks ago?” That gets Oliver’s attention. His icy blue gaze is instantly on me, holding mine for an eternity.
Our trip to Hempstead was seven weeks ago.
That only disqualifies one of the three as a possible father. Martin is now off the list. It’s down to either Ollie or Nigel.
“That would be the general consensus, yes. Is there…a problem?” the doctor asks as he pulls out the wand, and I sit up.
“No, not a problem. Just…how early can I have a paternity test done?”
The doctor’s eyes widen like saucers as he looks between me and Oliver. “You’re…not the father, I assume?”
“One of the possibles,” Oliver corrects before turning his attention back to me.
“Oh, well…” The doctor trails off, and I can tell he is judging me. I don’t have to explain my lifestyle choices. “You’re currently nine weeks along, so we could do an N.I.P.P., which is a non-invasive blood test. We would use your blood to extract the fetus’ DNA and test it against whoever you choose.”
That sounds quite simple. “How soon would the results be in?”
“The sample takes about two weeks for the results to be ready.”
“Good. Let’s do it,” Oliver mutters before he rolls up his sleeve, showing off all the tattoos up the corded flesh.
* * *
Oliver doesn’t hold my hand or touch me the entire way back to the hotel. As a matter of fact, he hasn’t touched me since the ultrasound was being performed. He’s not acting weird per se, but I’m getting a vibe from him that’s not his usual.
“Are you okay?” I ask as he parks in front of my hotel room, but he doesn’t turn off the car.
He has no intention of staying.
“I’m good,” he mutters. “How about you?”
“I’m fine.”
He nods. “I need to head to work.”
I climb from the car, and the door is barely closed before his car speeds off like he can’t get away from me fast enough.
What the hell is going on with him?