Chapter 3 #2
“My mom and sister are all I’ve got.” There’s that chuckle again. “Well, and your cousins. They kinda adopted me, you know?”
“I’m aware.” I know Luke’s been tight with Kaleb and Mason and Jake. I’ve even seen him grabbing beers with Parker and Noah whenever those two pass through town. “I’ll tell my cousins when I’m ready to.”
“What about your dad?”
I can tell by his tone he’s not a fan of my father. “I’ll play it by ear. He doesn’t have contact with the rest of the family—”
“Go figure.”
Clenching my jaw, I lower the pen in my hand. “You don’t have to like my dad. But he is my father, and he raised me almost entirely by himself. Just because he’s been convicted of a crime doesn’t mean he’s a bad person.”
Luke finds that funny. “I don’t think he’s a bad guy for being in prison.
Plenty of us fuck up and land there.” He lowers his voice when the couple beside us looks over.
“But I do take issue with the fact that he stole from his family. He kicked his nephews and niece to the curb to get rich. He faked his own sister’s death and burned down his parents’ home—”
“I’m aware of my father’s crimes,” I hiss. “So is the criminal justice system. Suffice it to say, he won’t be dandling his grandchildren on his knee in their nursery anytime soon. I think that’s punishment enough.”
“I hear ya,” he says. “Sorry. Touchy subject.”
“It’s fine.”
Luke surveys the clinic’s posh waiting room. “How’d you pick this place, anyway?”
“They have one of the best reputations in Oregon for obstetrical services.”
His sandy brows shoot to his hairline. “You’re having the babies here? More than an hour from home?”
“No. Maybe. I’m assessing my options.” Biting my lip, I decide to come clean. “For this visit, it’s more about privacy. Cherry Blossom Lake is such a small town, and I guess I’m not ready yet for everyone to know.”
“Gotcha.”
“Molly—my friend, Dr. Moses—used to work here. She says she’ll make sure my records get transferred wherever I choose as the pregnancy progresses.”
“Hey, you don’t have to justify your decision to me. I trust you.”
The pregnancy hormones must be hitting me hard because tears sting my eyes. “You do?”
A deep furrow forms on his forehead. “Yeah, of course. Why do you look surprised?”
“Because of the way I handled telling you about this.”
“Eh.” He chuckles and rests his hand over mine. It’s big and warm and sets off a fresh flow of fuzzy-warm feelings. “Water under the bridge, babe.”
“Don’t call me babe.” I don’t actually mind, and he knows it.
“Madona with child?”
“Luke—”
“Bodacious bakery with two little buns in the oven?”
“I’m serious.”
“Yeah, I get that. So you’re thinking more like enceinte?”
His French pronunciation is terrible, but I think that’s deliberate. “No.”
“That’s what my sister’s mother-in-law insisted on calling her when Amy was incubating my niece. She wasn’t amused.”
“I can imagine.” I already know Luke’s sister is a small-town police chief married to Hollywood heartthrob Cooper Judson. “Her mother-in-law is Shirleen Judson, right?”
“Yep. Sex siren of seventies cinema and drama goddess of modern times.” He chuckles again, a sound I’m beginning to love. “She’s a handful, but Amy’s got capable hands.”
For some reason I glance down at his hands, one of which still covers mine. His is weathered and huge, forming a callused dome of protection. For some silly reason, tears prick my eyes again.
“Your mom’s being supportive?” I ask. “About the pregnancy, I mean.”
“Definitely. She’s dying to meet you. Started sewing baby clothes already. Don’t worry,” he says quickly. “I told her we need to give you space.”
“Thank you.” I hesitate. “She sounds like a great mom.”
“The best.” Luke squeezes my hand. “You’ll be amazing, too. I can tell. Mother of the year material right here.”
“Thank you.” This time there’s no holding back tears. One of them falls with a splat on the clipboard. I turn my face so Luke doesn’t see.
Hold it together, Hazel.
A woman in blue hospital scrubs steps through a doorway, consulting a tablet. “Hazel Spencer?”
“That’s me.” I spring to my feet with Luke right behind me. A man and a woman in the corner glance up, trading a glance and a whisper. I hold my head high, praying they haven’t connected my name to Spencer Holdings. To the headlines that screamed through the news cycle during Dad’s trial.
Maybe I should have used a pseudonym.
Luke rests a hand on the small of my back, and I consider telling him not to. But something about it feels soothing, so I give in and let him guide me toward the exam room.
“Here we are.” The woman in scrubs hands me a gown, which surprises me.
“For the transvaginal portion of the ultrasound,” she explains.
“Your doctor ordered it in addition to the standard transabdominal screening. It’s common with twin pregnancies.
” She glances at Luke, then back to me. “Would you like your partner to stay in the room for both portions of the exam?”
“Oh, he’s not my partner.” Heat fills my cheeks. “I mean, he isn’t my husband or boyfriend. We’re not together.”
Luke tilts his head. “I mean, we have been together.” He slings a meaningful look at my belly. “Obviously.”
“Only that once.” Why am I saying this?
“Twice,” Luke counters with a grin as the ultrasound tech looks bemused. “Three times if you count the next morning in the shower when—”
“I meant we’re not dating.” I hate that I can’t seem to shut up. “We’re not together together.”
Luke snorts. “Together enough for you to get pregnant.”
“But not in a relationship.” Why am I still arguing? “We um—I mean, we just—”
“Boned.” Luke looks like he’s loving this. “Banged, screwed, built the beast with two backs.”
“Okay.” Masking a smirk, the ultrasound tech backs toward the door. “I’ll let you two figure it out. I’ll come back in a few minutes, okay?”
“Thank you.” My face is on fire as the door shuts behind her. Whipping my gaze back to Luke, I glare. “Could you please not watch?”
Luke turns his back, but not before rolling his eyes. “You’re aware that I’ve seen you naked before, right?”
“I’m aware.” I peel off my clothes, folding them neatly on the chair. As I’m pulling the gown on, one of the ties snags on my earring, sending it bouncing toward Luke.
“Got it.” He bends down and grabs it, spinning around to return it to me while I’m still tying the gown. “Shit, sorry.”
“It’s fine.” I don’t even bother covering my breasts. “You’re right. I’m about to lose every ounce of modesty I possess. Might as well get used to it, right?”
“Nah, Hazel—you’re allowed to hide or show your own body however you want.” Fixing his eyes respectfully on the wall to my right, he holds out the earring. Since he’s operating blind, he ends up dropping it again. “Whoops—hang on.”
“It’s fine.” I stand there bare-breasted, holding my palm flat while he picks up the earring. “You can look. I was just being difficult.”
“I want to respect your privacy…” He trails off, trying to put the earring in my hand but missing by several feet. “Just a sec.”
“Luke, goddammit—look at me!” I don’t mean to yell, but for crying out loud. “Otherwise we’ll be doing this all day.”
His gaze swings to mine as he places the earring in my hand. “Holy shit.” Molten blue eyes sweep my belly and breasts, returning reluctantly to my face. “Jesus Christ, you’re beautiful.”
“I—thank you.”
The tips of his ears turn red as he takes a step back. “I don’t know what I expected. You’ve always been stunning, and God knows you’re the most gorgeous woman I’ve ever seen naked, but Christ, Hazel—you’re going to be one of those insanely sexy pregnant women, aren’t you?”
A heated flush spreads from my face down my throat as I put in the earring again. My fingers feel trembly as I tie the gown at the front of my body. “Thanks,” I murmur, averting my gaze as I climb onto the table. “I needed that.”
Luke looks surprised. “You needed me to ogle you at your ultrasound when you explicitly told me not to look?”
“Maybe I did.” What a weird thing to say. “I just spent twenty minutes on the phone with my mother telling me I’m a wrinkly hag who hasn’t managed to land a husband, so being ogled feels like an upswing.”
He frowns. “Your mom thinks you should get married so you’re not a single mom?”
“No.” Crap. “I haven’t told my mother I’m pregnant. She lives in Croatia with her rich second husband, so I don’t see her that often. We’re not close.”
“That’s a bummer. If you want, I can put you in touch with my mother. She’ll mom the hell out of you. Smother you with big, gooey gobs of the world’s greatest motherly affection.”
“I’ll consider it, thank you.” I’ll do no such thing.
Before I can dwell on that, there’s a knock at the door. “Everyone ready?”
Glancing at Luke, I take a deep breath. The question feels heavy, like a crate of wet sand on my chest. I’m not sure I’m ready for any of this.
“Yes,” I say anyway, hoping it’s true.
“I’m telling you, that’s a middle finger.” Luke holds out his copy of the sonogram, pointing to the image as we walk through the parking lot. “Right there—she’s flipping us the bird.”
“She most certainly isn’t.” I tucked my own copy of the printout in my handbag, so I’m forced to lean close to point out the error of his ways. “That’s her arm, not her finger. Your perception of scale is all wrong.”
“Not that—that.” He points to the other twin’s foot. “You can’t tell me that isn’t a middle finger.”
“I can and I just did.” I pull out my key fob and unlock my car door, though we’re still at least two hundred feet from it. “That’s her sister’s foot.”
“Huh.” Luke studies the image some more, then shoves it back into its envelope. “Twin girls. Hard to believe, huh?”
My heart gives a tight little squeeze. “It is.” We’ve reached our respective vehicles, but it feels strange saying goodbye. Maybe it’s the intimacy of what we just shared. The knowledge that we also share daughters who aren’t even born.