Picture Us (Turn it Up Book 3)

by Natalie Parker

  Both Annie’s and the nurse’s heads snap in my direction with widened eyes. I look between them and shrug. “That’s the day,” I murmur awkwardly.

  The nurse’s eyebrows go up, seeming impressed. “Okay” she nods and types the date in. “I’m going to go check on the results from your urine test,” she says, referring to the sample they had Annie give them on arrival.

  “You remembered the date?” Annie asks me quietly when the door closes.

  I nod quietly, wanting but not wanting to tell her that our night meant that much to me. How much everything changed. I was gearing up to find her and lay it all down in front of her. And then this bombshell dropped, and with it came a lot of misgivings about telling her how I feel. I wonder if she’ll believe me right now, for one. She might think I’m saying it as a way to make her feel better about our situation. For another thing, what’s going on might seem bigger to her at this moment. She’s processing something pretty huge right now, and throwing something like this at her might not be the best time for her to receive it.

  There’s a small knock at the door before another woman, I presume the obstetrician if the white coat is anything to go on, walks in.

  “Hi Annie, and…?” she shakes Annie’s hand and raises her eyebrows in question as she reaches for mine.

  “Tyler,” I say, shaking her hand.

  “I’m Dr. Whitman,” she introduces herself. “Feeling okay today?” she asks Annie as she sits down.

  “Yeah. Okay,” Annie confirms. “Little queasy, but not too bad.” She’s queasy? Why the hell didn’t she call and tell me? I could’ve… okay I don’t know what I could’ve done, but I want to know these things. How about that… I want to know these things.

  “Well, that’s to be expected, because you are pregnant,” Dr. Whitman tells us as Annie blows out a huge breath and looks down at her lap, nodding. I feel my heart thud hard in my chest for a few beats at her words. I had no reason to think otherwise, but the confirmation still delivers a blow.

  “With the dates you gave the nurse, I’d say you’re about seven weeks,” she continues, “and I’d like to do a pelvic ultrasound to see what you’re measuring at.” She instructs Annie to undress from the waist down and lie down on the table with the sheet over her before leaving the room. Annie stands up, unfolds the sheet and looks at me with an expectant expression.

  “What?” I shrug from my seat that I haven’t moved from.

  “Uh, I’d like some privacy while I disrobe, if you don’t mind,” she says tilting her head in the direction of the door.

  “Oh, come on,” I lightheartedly protest. “Nothing I haven’t seen before. In fact, I recall getting a pretty up close and personal look.” Come on, we need a little humor to ease the tension.

  “That does not give you a life-long pass,” she deadpans, but I can see the hint of humor in her eyes and the corner of her mouth trying like hell not to pull up. She may be making me leave the room physically, but she’s hitting the ball back to me. I’ll take it.

  “Fine,” I say, exaggerating the sigh that comes out with the word as I head to the door. “Just knock on the door when I can come back in.”

  Moments later, Annie sits on the table, the flimsy white paper crinkling under her ass as I wait in the chair beside her. Dr. Whitman comes back in, briefly describes how the ultrasound is going to go, and has Annie lie back. She dims the lights so we can see the screen. She inserts the probe under the sheet and Annie’s face grimaces briefly in discomfort. Instinctually, I stand and place my hand on her head, sweeping my thumb back and forth on her forehead as we look at God only knows what on the black and white monitor. All I see is a bunch of white blobs, until one of them flickers. I squint my eyes and look closer at the little rapidly blinking light.

  “What is that?” I raise my finger toward the screen, indicating the flickering blob.

  “That’s the heartbeat,” Dr. Whitman answers warmly. I feel my own heart rate pick up and my eyes widen.

  “Th-that’s the …” I’m a pathetic, stammering fool right now.

  “The baby’s heartbeat,” she says helping me out. The baby’s heartbeat. My baby, I think, finally trying the words out in my head. I continue to stare for a moment before I think to look down at Annie and see what kind of reaction she’s having. I look at her face while she’s watching the grainy screen and I almost lose my breath. She’s just staring in wonder at the same thing that’s captivated me. Her eyes are just taking it in, her face relaxed, her lips slightly parted, taking in the sight of her baby. Our baby. I look from her to the screen and back again. My chest feels tight again as it gives a hard squeeze and releases with thousands of tingles that spread throughout it. I feel lightheaded for just a second and I can feel my pulse beat faster through my veins. In that second, I know… that I’m in love. I don’t know if it’s with that beating heart on the screen or the woman watching it, but this has to be love. Both. It’s definitely both I’m feeling this for. It’s warm and deep and it’s hitting me and engulfing me like a tsunami. This is love. Holy. Shit.

  The doctor drones on about things that are over my head, like yolk sac, fetal pole and measurements, but it sounds like she’s a hundred miles away. I keep looking between the rapidly beating heart and down at Annie, and I realize I’m still caressing her forehead with my thumb.

  11

  Wow. Just, wow.

  This is really happening. There’s a being inside of me with a heartbeat going one hundred and sixty-seven beats per minute. While it sounds unbelievable, it’s apparently completely normal at this stage. I couldn’t take my eyes off it. Between seeing that tiny heartbeat and feeling Tyler’s closeness, it was one of the most amazing moments of my life. Scary and unexpected, but amazing none the less.

  I’ve been sent home with printouts and booklets full of information on what I can and can’t do, and a list of recommended prenatal vitamins. They want us back at ten weeks for another ultrasound to make sure everything is developing as it should. Sitting back in Tyler’s car, I’m trying to hold my shit together again as this new wave of reality seems to want to crash over me on repeat.

  Tyler reaches over the console and drapes an arm over my shoulders as he leans into me, pressing his forehead against my temple. It’s a soothing balm on my nerves, yet it makes the butterflies in my chest beat their wings at rapid fire. The thrill of his closeness and the fear of our situation both make my heart beat faster while I try to decide which feeling to give in to.

  “It’s going to be okay,” he finally whispers, his breath coming out ragged with the words. He’s as freaked out as I am, probably more so. He’s probably trying to reassure himself as much as he is me. While I don’t know how it’s going to be okay, either way, I believe him when he says it will be.

  “I know,” I say weakly.

  “Are you okay?” he asks, inching his face away just enough to take in my expression.

  “Yeah,” I answer, having a hard time meeting his eyes, afraid I might fall in. I bring my hands up to my face and take a few breaths into them. “Just a little freaked out. This is definitely… a lot. It’s scary.”

  “I know honey, I’m scared too,” he says on another shaky exhale. While the endearment comes out of his mouth so naturally, it takes me by surprise. I don’t comment on that, as the second part of his sentence hits me harder. I take in a deep breath and let it out with a whoosh.

  “You know, you can still…”

  “Annie, no,” he firmly cuts me off. “I’m not backing out of this. I’m in this, I told you that and I meant it.”

  “You could change your mind,” I softly protest as I finally turn my head to look at his face.

  “And why the hell would I change my mind?” His chocolate eyes bore deep into mine, not blinking as he challenges my misgivings.

  “Because… you…,” I shake my head and gesture my hand at him as I stammer for the right words that will speak my case but not offend him.

  “Because I enjoy a s
tress-free bachelor lifestyle? So what? Things change. Life changes,” his voice sounds fiery but non-threatening, and he starts to rub the back of my neck as if to convey that while he continues. “You’re right, I didn’t plan to be a dad, but as I said, life changes, and this is my life now. I am going to be a dad and instead of hiding from it like some pathetic coward, I’m going to be the best dad I can be, and the most solid rock of support I can be for you.”

  Holy shit. All he needs is a mic drop. I’m frozen in my seat by his words. He’s rendered me speechless which is no small accomplishment. The thing is… I believe him. Despite his history as a playboy, since our paths have crossed again, he’s given me no reason to not see him as a stand-up guy. But it’s only been a few days; it’s possible the high-running emotions haven’t worn off. They sure as hell haven’t for me. And like he said… things change. My mind feels torn in two different directions, but my heart and my gut tell me that I can’t deny him this chance to prove he’s sincere, not after all the ways he already has. The way he’s still sitting here, right next to me, silently and patiently giving me time to absorb what he’s said as he continues to sweep his thumb up and down the back of my neck makes me want to cry, kiss him, and then cry some more. Instead, I dare to look up into his eyes that are harboring so much genuineness, it’s hard to take. I slowly nod at him, and the tender look of relief that crosses his face almost makes me lose it. Oh, pleeease fuck off, hormones.

  “So, would you please quit opening that door for me, because I am not going to walk through it,” he pleads, searching my eyes. “We are going to do this together; one way or another.”

  “And what way will that be?” I ask nervously.

  “Whichever way you’ll let me. Just please, let me.” That look in his eyes is seconds away from making my mind and my heart explode, but I don’t allow my own eyes let go of it.

  “Okay,” I squeak out after a breath.

  “Okay,” he echoes, quietly. And then without another word, he leans in and touches his lips to mine in a kiss that’s so soft it illuminates my insides. It’s brief, his lips staying on mine for just a few seconds and then punctuating with one last peck before he leans away to start the ignition. I already miss the feel of his arm around me, but try not to let it show as he drives me home. While I’m flooded with relief that my unborn child will be okay and have a father in its life, I can’t help but worry a little bit about myself and my own heart.

  After parking the TA in the alley, I let myself in through the back door of The Cedar. While I wanted to spend some more time with Annie talking about things, she had a photo session today that she needed to get home and get ready for. I’ll probably call her later and see about a time we can get together. I don’t want this whole thing to only involve me just checking in on her from time to time and showing up for appointments.

  That kiss took me by surprise as much as I could tell it did her. As per usual, I didn’t think. It just happened naturally, and I don’t regret it for a second. I’ve been waiting for so long to do that again that it almost came as more of a relief than a thrill.

  I put my bag down and throw my jacket over the chair in my office but I don’t sit down, as my first order of today’s business is talking to a certain employee about their behavior. He’s on the schedule and should be here by now.

  After making my way down the hall and into the main bar area, I spot him cleaning up a recently vacated table.

  “Colton,” I address him firmly, and he looks up from the busser tub that he’s carefully stacking glasses into. His face goes pale when he sees the assertive look I’m giving him, and I swear I hear him gulp. “Can I see you in my office, please?” It comes out as more of an order than a question and he abandons the tub to follow me to the back. When we’re both inside the office, I close the door behind us and have a seat, gesturing for him to do the same. Once he’s seated, I lean back and fold my hands in my lap, letting out a breath before I start. The poor kid is trying not to shake so I school my tone to one less dominating before I open my mouth again.

  “So, I understand you were trying to make Annie leave the other day when she was asking to see me?” He looks down at the floor.

  “Yeah. I’m sorry.”

  “Colton, why would you do that? That’s what I want to understand.”

  “You said your girlfriends, dates, or whatever… that they’re not allowed here. I thought I was helping.”

  “When did I say that?” I ask, furrowing my eyebrows in confusion. I don’t talk to my staff about my personal life, so this doesn’t make sense.

  “I was here a couple weeks ago when your friend visited. You guys were talking about it.”

  Shit. That’s right; he was there when I was talking to Juan. I close my eyes as I remember him coming to empty the tubs under the bar when Juan was reciting my “rules”, and I think he conveniently walked away just before I confided that I’d broken them with Annie. He chances a look up at me. “I’m really sorry, Tyler.”

  “I appreciate that Colton, but I still feel the need to establish an understanding here.” He nods and shifts nervously in his seat as I continue. “That was a private conversation that, granted, I should’ve been having in a private place, but that was not an invitation to intervene when someone you think might be unwelcome comes in and needs to talk to me.” He nods again, finally getting brave enough to let his eyes meet mine. “When someone asks for me, notify me and I will deal with it, regardless of who it is, okay?”

  “Okay, I got it,” he says assuredly.

  “You never know who it could actually be, or if it’s an emergency… what she had to tell me was pretty important.” And it might’ve been delivered in a much gentler way had he not revved Annie up beforehand.

  “Yeah,” he rubs the back of his neck. “I remember.”

  Fuck. He was following her trying to stop her when she came back here and he… Dammit, this kid is around to hear everything!

  “Right,” I confirm with him. “Well, there is no need to share that with anyone else here just yet, okay? You haven’t, have you?”

  “No, Tyler. I swear I haven’t.” He sweeps his hands back and forth to emphasize that he hasn’t.

  “Good,” I say, sternly. Annie and I haven’t discussed telling people. I should probably talk to her about that. Speaking of her, I want to make sure there are no future problems when she comes in. “And as for Annie… she’s important. And as far as you’re concerned, she has free reign of this place. If she comes in, she gets to walk back here and find me if she wants. Hell, if she goes behind the bar and fixes a cocktail, you don’t get to stop her- wait,” I catch myself and hold a hand out. “Unless you see her try to drink it, then definitely stop her. Got it?”

  “Definitely,” he chuckles. “I got it.”

  “Okay, Colton. We’re all good. I just have to point out though, doing that? It just doesn’t seem like you. Were things not going well that day or something?”

  “I just… don’t want to be known as the quiet, awkward busser. I’d like to have…” he’s looking uncomfortable as he holds his hands out and shrugs, looking everywhere but at me again. “I’d just like to be more like you, or Forrest. I thought if I tried-,”

  “Okay, I think I see where this is going,” I say, gently cutting him off. “Look, you want to exude confidence, is that it?” He sighs with a nod as I continue. “Colton, you won’t be a busser for the rest of your life. Everyone starts somewhere. I sure as hell started at the bottom, believe it or not. But you’ll get to where you want to be if you just follow these three principles.” He leans forward giving me his full attention as I do the same, holding a finger up one at a time as I list them off. “One, keep busting your ass. Two, do what makes you feel good, what makes you feel comfortable in your own skin. Three, so long as you aren’t hurting anyone, don’t be ashamed or apologize for it. Ever.”

  “Wow,” Colton says on a heavy exhale as he straightens up, but I don’t give him a chance to comme
nt. It’s not that I don’t want him to; it’s that I want him to take this information and process it on his own, then do what he will with it.

  “Alright, back to work,” I order calmly and he nods as we both stand. As he walks back towards the bar, I can’t help but notice that his back is just a little straighter.

  12

  Gulp… gulp… gulp… “Ahhhh!” I let out a gratified moan and gasp for air.

  Well, apparently pregnancy cravings are a real thing, because here I am drinking (guzzling) chocolate milk straight out of the carton… with the fridge door still open. Yes, chocolate milk, like I’m six. Of all things… I crave it so bad, and when I get it, I chug it like a crazed heroin addict and barely even bother to taste it. I tip the carton back again to get the last remaining drops and am just wiping my mouth with the back of my hand when my phone rings on the counter. I snatch it up to see Tyler’s name on the screen.

  “Hey,” I greet him when I answer. The fuzzy butterflies still go to war with my nerves when he calls, but I try to make sure I sound pleasant and friendly.

  “Hey, what are you doing tonight?” he asks, sounding just as causal. It’s late afternoon already, so this sounds pretty spontaneous. It’s been three days since the ultrasound and he has texted every day around the same time to ask how I’m doing, but this is the first he’s called.

  “Um… nothing,” I answer. “I’m caught up on work, I was just going to stay in and watch TV I guess, why?”

  “Thought I’d bring over some takeout and we could hang out, maybe talk?”

  “Sure, about what?”

  “What do you mean, about what?” I can practically see him furrowing his brow. “I think we have a lot to talk about just concerning this pregnancy, and besides that, we should probably get used to being around each other. If we’re going to co-parent a kid, it’s probably a good idea that we know each other, right?”