Chapter 37 Arden
ARDEN
“Hey! Sorry, have you been waiting long?” I ask, hustling toward Deacon as he unfolds himself from the front seat of his truck. The man is huge, like Jude, and I have to tilt my head back a little to meet his eyes.
“No, I just got here early,” he says, his cheeks a little pink under the dark scruff on his face. “Can’t say I’ve ever been here before.” The words are directed at the small discreet building denoting women’s health services.
His candor makes me laugh, and I loop my arm through his as I lead him toward the door. I texted him over the weekend asking if he wanted to come with me to my last ultrasound seeing as Jude had to deal with an issue with a supplier he couldn’t reschedule.
Sometimes being the boss sucks.
So while I’m upset Jude can’t be here, I’m excited for Deacon to be a part of this experience. His unwavering support means more than I’ll ever be able to convey. Won’t stop me from trying though.
“Well, you can cross this off your bucket list,” I deadpan, his lips twitching as he holds open the door and lets me walk ahead of him.
The waiting room is partially occupied as I step up to the window and give them my name. Deacon shuffles from foot to foot as everyone glances or all-out stares at him, and I get it—he’s big.
Handsome.
But he’s clearly uncomfortable with the attention, so after I’m told we’ll be seen shortly, I lead him around the corner where there are fewer prying eyes.
“Jude feel like this when he comes?” Deacon murmurs softly, his gaze scanning over the room.
“He usually holds my hand in a death grip in his lap.”
“I can see that,” he says, his knuckles white where his fingers are interlocked.
“Ms. James?” the nurse says, the breath rushing out of Deacon as we stand.
“It’s weird I’m nervous, right?” he whispers as we follow her down the hallway. She pauses outside the room and Deacon falters behind me. “Should I wait here? Are you changing? I don’t—”
“Nope, we’re all good.” I smile at the nurse and grab Deacon’s hand to pull him in the room, pointing to one of the chairs as I climb onto the table. “He’s my daughter’s godfather, and he’s a little nervous.”
“Thanks,” Deacon grumbles but I don’t miss his smile as he takes a seat, his posture already more relaxed here than it had been just moments before.
“Oh, how wonderful!” The nurse smiles widely before going through all the normal questions and wheeling in the ultrasound machine.
Deacon rubs his palms down his jeans, his eyes darting everywhere as the gel is squirted onto my belly.
Closing my eyes, I take a deep breath and listen to her little heartbeat, the whooshing sound so incredible each and every time I hear it.
“That’s—” The rawness in Deacon’s voice has my head lolling to the side to look at him. His eyes are wide and glassy as they stare at the screen.
“She’s very active today!” The nurse smiles, showing us my daughter’s little hands and feet as she wiggles around. “She looks great.”
“I just…wow. That’s… She’s incredible.” The words are full of awe, a giant of a man brought to his knees by the tiny little thing that will undoubtedly own his heart.
Jude was right to make his brother the godfather, even if I had to watch Montana pout when I broke the news to him.
“You’re going to have to keep the spoiling to a reasonable level,” I tease, making the nurse laugh, but Deacon shakes his head.
“Not a chance. Anything she wants. Vacations. Pets. Standing in line for the new release doll. I’m on it.”
“You can’t do that,” I gasp, my surprise turning to laughter. “Deacon, that’s ridiculous.”
“Ridiculously awesome. Plus, when she finally starts dating, her standards are gonna be so high, you won’t have to worry about her bringing home any losers.”
“You’ve thought about this, huh?” I ask as I wipe the gel from my belly and sit up.
“Kids aren’t really in my future,”—he pauses like he’s going to say something else but thinks better of it—“but when I found out about the baby, I don’t know. I just feel like it’s a gift to be able to be a part of this too.”
“Dammit, you’re makin’ me cry,” I lament, wiping at the tears rolling down my cheeks. I’ll be so relieved when the mention of something sweet or thoughtful doesn’t have me turning into a hormonal mess.
“Sorry,” he murmurs, reaching over and snagging the box of tissues from the counter, but that only makes me cry harder.
“Quit it. My hormones can’t take any more.”
“Well then, you’re not gonna want to see the matching pajamas I got for the baby and Dez,” he announces proudly and I narrow my eyes.
“Out. Get out before I need the rest of this box.”
“Fine,” he says, drawing the word out, “but is it time for lunch now?”
“Sure. Now let’s go, before I make you walk back through the gauntlet of pregnant women all by yourself.”
“You wouldn’t dare,” he taunts but I don’t respond, giving him my best faux innocent look before walking out the door.