by Kendall Ryan
“What’d they say?”
“They had a cancelation this afternoon. You’re in! You have an appointment with Dr. Bentley at two.”
“Wow. Okay, and you’re all right with me leaving early, then?”
She waved a dismissive hand at me. “Of course I am. Call me the second you know something.”
The nauseous feeling was back, but this time it didn’t have a thing to do with the possibility of being pregnant.
Chapter Three
Mason
“Nine pregnancies,” I told Trent as I leaned against the counter.
“Nine?”
“Yep, nine. And two sets of twins. I’m telling you, if I get one more pregnancy this month, I’ll win the nurse’s baby bingo league. Mrs. Ramirez cried for half an hour when I told her about the twins. She already has a pair at home.”
“That poor woman.” Trent gave a sympathetic wince and shook his head. “I’m going to grab a coffee. You want one?”
The lure of caffeine called to me, but I shook my head. “Nah, I’m so behind on my paperwork. Gonna catch up before lunch.”
We parted ways, and I trailed down the fluorescent-lit hall until I reached the office at the end. “Dr. Bentley” was emblazoned on the door in shiny gold.
The name placard had been there since I was a kid, when I’d played in the waiting room and waited for my father to come out and join my mother and me. Then, when I was older, I’d spent even more time in that same waiting room, insisting that I go along for every little screening and test while my mother battled through ovarian cancer with one of the other doctors in my father’s practice.
And now? As an adult, I’d taken control of the office that had once belonged to my father and replaced his certificates and diplomas with my own—though I’d left the old baseball pennant that hung from the window, a memory of my good old little league days.
On my desk sat the pile of papers I’d been avoiding for a solid week, and as I collapsed into my worn leather chair, I let out a muffled groan. Almost on instinct, I checked my work email and pushed aside the little stab of disappointment when nothing even remotely personal was there.
Not that I’d expected anything at this point anyway. If I hadn’t heard from Bren by now, I wasn’t likely to. In fact, I wasn’t even sure she knew my name. I’d introduced myself once at the beginning, but some people were bad with names. I often was, forgetting them almost the second a stranger told me. Plus I had no way of knowing how tipsy she was that night. Of course, she hadn’t seemed drunk at the time.
My cock pulsed at the memory.
Scrubbing my hands down my face, I tried to forget what it’d been like with her. Not that it did any good. I hadn’t slept a full night since we’d been together when she hadn’t found a way to infiltrate my dreams.
Speaking of dreams, if you want to be able to pay for that fancy-ass apartment and a bed to lay your head in at night, you better get on the ball with this paperwork.
After a quick email to my assistant, asking her to order my lunch in, I flipped over to the first sheet in the stack of papers—Mrs. Ramirez’s intake form from this morning.
Poor woman was right. I could only imagine what it would be like to have one baby, let alone to be saddled with two more when you already had a pair at home. Her husband had stayed strong, of course, but if I’d been that guy? Well, I think we would have made an extended stop at the liquor store after a doctor’s visit like that.
She was a great mom. I’d seen her during her aftercare when she’d had the first set of twins, and she’d been like a superwoman, on top of their every move, rocking one while patting the other. The parents would be all right once they adjusted, but damn, that was going to be a motherfucker of an adjustment. Hoped they didn’t like sleeping at night.
A gentle knock sounded on my door, and I looked up to find a slender brunette woman slipping into the room, a nervous smile on her thin lips. “Dr. Bentley?”
“What’s up, Jean?” She was the newest of the nurses and still referred to all of us by our titles even when we weren’t in front of patients, so I tried to make my smile extra friendly.
“There was a cancellation this morning, and we had someone fill the spot with a new patient. I know you’ve got a lot on your plate, but I was wondering if maybe—”
I held up my hand. “No problem. When’s the appointment?”
“Um, that’s sort of the thing. She’s here now.”
I made sure not to wince visibly, knowing Jean was already walking on eggshells due to nerves. I didn’t want to make it worse. “Right, okay. Well, draw her blood, take her vitals, and get her into a gown. I’ll be in as soon as I can.”
Jean started to leave the room, but I called her back.
“The intake form?” I asked, and she let out a shrill laugh as her cheeks flamed red.
“Right, right. Duh! Here you go.” She dropped the slip of paper on my desk along with a medical history folder, and I glanced at the tidy, pretty script.
Ashley Matthews.
Pretty normal history and on the younger side. I flicked through the pages in her folder, then sent off the last few emails in my inbox before heading back down the hall. Trent was going to owe me for taking on yet another new patient. If he was smart, he would bring back a coffee for me regardless of the fact that I didn’t go with him.
Gently, I knocked on the door, and Jean appeared from around the corner.
“Dr. Bentley is here,” she informed the woman who was lying like she’d recently been hit by a truck. Her hair was slung over the side of the examination table, and her arm was flung dramatically over her face.
This ought to be fun.
Chapter Four
Bren
“Not feeling well?”
A deep male voice interrupted my nausea. My churning stomach was as insistent as a gnat buzzing near my ear, and I just wanted to slap it away. But in order for that to happen, I had to subject myself to this exam. Damn the comfy robe that Mandy thought I’d enjoy. If I had the usual paper sheet covering me, I could just pull it up over my head.
“Ugh,” I groaned, and the nurse piped in.
“Miss Matthews isn’t the biggest fan of…lady doctor visits.”
“Can we…uh… just get the uncomfortable part over with as soon as possible, please?” I added in a strangled whisper, still not removing my arm from over my face. Another flip of my churning gut caused a moan.
“No problem. I totally understand.”
Why did the voice sound familiar?
The doctor ran the water in the sink, and I peeked out from underneath my arm mask in time to see his rigid back. The snap of the rubber gloves sounded like gunfire to my sensitized body. I closed my eyes once again. God, could this just be over with already? There was nothing worse than the annual stirrups of shame, and now I had to be subjected to it twice in one year. And if I was pregnant? I’d have so many hands inside my hoo-ha, I could tattoo an open for business sign right above it.
“Please scoot down to the end of the table.”
That voice.
If I hadn’t been so miserable, I would have garnered the energy to peek at whoever was looming over me. Instead, it took everything inside my soul to move down until my bare ass was hanging over the end of the table. A hand gripped one foot, then the next, helping me place them in the dreaded stirrups, but I kept my knees pressed firmly together.
The light creaked, and then it snapped on. Its searing heat pierced my sensitive flesh, and I felt on display. Exposed.
Vulnerable.
“Okay, Miss Matthews, I’m just going to—”
“I’ve had an exam before. I know the drill,” I groaned. If I could have flashed a green light in his face, I would have. Anything to speed up this torture.
“All righty then, let’s not waste any more time.” With gentle hands, he pushed my legs apart. “Relax, this will all be over soon.”
The doctor pressed on my stomach and slid two fingers insi
de my vaginal canal. Just when I thought he’d hurry up and get it over with, he stopped. My heart raced, and my already sweaty palms moistened to the point where I thought they might drip onto the paper lining the leather exam table.
Why was he stopping?
Was something wrong?
With me or with my possible baby?
He exhaled a ragged breath that spoke volumes. Something was definitely off here. I opened my mouth to speak, but nothing came out. White-hot panic seemed to have frozen my tongue.
A prickle of realization laced with dread stole up my spine and landed on the top of my skull.
“Bren?” he murmured softly.
My rapid breathing slowed to a stop as the tension in the room ratcheted up to Defcon Five.
“Yeah?” How did he know to call me by my middle name? Something about his voice sounded vaguely familiar. I racked my brain and slowly pulled the arm from over my face. If I could just get a good look at his expression, I might be able to gauge how devastating this situation had become in the space of a couple of seconds.
“Is everything o—”
My gaze met his, and the room spun. A wild, tragic swirl of vibrant colors took the place of regular vision. I struggled to sit up but fell back down on my back with a whooshing thump and a crinkle of paper.
No. Fucking. Way.
This can’t be happening. It can’t. God, what did I ever do to deserve this? The humiliation? The mortification. The…
“The form said your name was Ashley,” he said as a dose of adrenaline hit my system, causing my pulse to hammer wildly.
Shit. It was him.
And his fingers were still inside me.
Another wave of nausea flowed over me, and I shut my eyes against the light of the fluorescent overheads, begging my stomach to stay calm. If I could just control my breathing, I could get the hell out of here without totally losing it.
“Can you please remove your hand?” I managed.
“Right. Sorry.” The doctor slid his thick fingers from my lady parts and rose to his feet.
After at least a minute of ragged inhales and prayers directed at my stomach to not shame me any further, I managed to moan out, “My name is Ashley.” I scuttled back on the table and covered my legs. He may have seen it all before, but in the cold light of the exam room, I felt more exposed than I’d ever been. “I go by my middle name.”
Snapping off his gloves, he tossed them into the trash can. “Right. Uh, Jean?” He turned to face the confused nurse who looked like she’d entered an alternate universe and didn’t understand her role there. “Would you mind giving us a moment? I’d like to speak to Miss Matthews alone.”
“Sure, I’ll just…” Jean cleared her throat and opened the door, but as she backed out of the room, I didn’t hear the distinct click of the metal door closing behind her.
Pinching his nose between his fingers, he dragged himself from the edge of the exam table and snapped the door shut himself before turning to look at me again. I didn’t think I could withstand the implications of that look.
Shit. What did it mean?
I’d already taken my feet from the stirrups and sat perched on the end of the exam table, the white paper crinkling beneath me as I shifted restlessly. I stared at a spot on the pristine tile floor, focusing my attention there.
God, I wished that he’d just get out of this room so I could put my clothes back on and erect some type of fabric barrier between us. He had the upper hand, and he knew it.
“Listen, I should probably go. I had no idea—” I started, but he cut in.
“Why did you just disappear on me like that?”
I should have known he wouldn’t be a gentleman and let me escape with at least a shred of my tattered pride intact. My cheeks flushed with color under the blame lacing his words, and I could feel it creep from my neck upward. I swallowed hard but kept my lips clamped together. How dare he ask that question right now?
“I had a great time with you,” he admitted after a strained moment. “I…” He blew out a breath and raked all ten fingers through his hair.
Nothing mattered more to me right now than getting out of this exam room. It felt like all the oxygen had been vacuumed out. I couldn’t draw a normal breath.
“I—”
“Did you not feel the same way? Because I thought—”
“No, no.” I shook my head, and my long hair fell over my face before I pushed it behind one ear. Considering leaving it hanging over my eyes like a veil, my hand trembled under the effort of the simple motion of securing it back so I could see him. “I had an amazing time too. I just…” I shook my head, trying to find words that made sense. “You were—are—more than I’m looking for. Right now, I mean.”
“What does that mean?”
“I’m just…” I took a deep breath, not finding the appropriate words to explain how I felt about our night together. How did one explain to a medical doctor while naked on the exam table that they weren’t looking for a father for the unborn baby they might be carrying? Especially, when that father was him. “You’re…that night…everything was so intense, and I’m just not interested in anything serious.”
“Based on one night, you decided it would have to be something serious?”
Why couldn’t he be like every other man led around by his dick and just get over it already? I felt embroiled in some kind of strange role reversal. We didn’t need to be having this awkward conversation. He could have just remained professional, finished my exam and never seen me again. No harm, no foul. I didn’t care that he’d given me the best sex of my life. I didn’t. I really didn’t. Now, here he was doing his version of damage control, trying to keep me under his thumb and seeking a compromise I didn’t need or want.
I tilted my head to the side. “I was just looking to unwind and have some fun. It’s not something I do often, but to be honest, I’m surprised you even wanted to see me again.”
“So, which is it? I’m too serious, or I’m such a player you thought it wouldn’t matter if you just disappeared?”
“Why can’t it be both?” I countered.
He clenched his jaw and narrowed his eyes into slits, clearly unwilling to accept my pretzel logic. “Because it doesn’t make any sense.”
“I had to blow off some steam and so did you. We both had fun. We don’t need to make it into something more, do we?” I shrugged but glancing down, I could see the tremble in my hands that gave me away. Hear the lie in my own voice.
He stared at me, as if seeing me for the first time. Was I the same woman that had been so soft and pliant in his arms weeks before? No. The reason I was here, naked and vulnerable and exposed to his gaze made me night and day different from that woman. I might be pregnant. My future might depend on some positive sign in some sterile lab. I had to make him think that I felt as if he were nothing. Nothing more than a whim—a quick, easy fuck, something that could be tossed aside in the morning and forgotten.
But in my heart, I knew the truth. I’d felt it. That hot, coursing electricity at every move and touch. My heart practically exploded when we’d come, hard and needy and deep, together. That look in his eyes while he was inside me…that hadn’t been in my head. It couldn’t have been.
It wasn’t.
“Okay, so, if it was just a one-night stand—” he started, but I cut in before he could finish. I couldn’t let him say something we’d both regret.
“It was.”
At my careless words, disappointment lined his chiseled features. I almost felt bad for deliberately hurting him. But not enough to make it right by spilling the truth. Doing that would leave me open to heartache. And mine had bricks around it that even a battering ram couldn’t break through.
He took a steadying breath, and after a few measured moments, a mask of cool indifference came over his face. “Right. Okay. It was just a one-night stand. So we should probably just continue with the annual exam. It’ll be super quick, and then a nurse will call you in a f
ew days with your Pap results, all right?”
“Uh.” I swallowed hard and then speared him with a glare. Was he dense? Now, I had a whole other can of worms to open up.
“Look, I know you’re probably a little uncomfortable, but I can be a professional. You are here for the annual exam, correct?” He glanced down at the chart again. Maybe I wouldn’t have to spell it out. If he forced the issue, I didn’t know if I could tell him the reason for my visit without breaking down. As he scanned the document, everything appeared fine until he got to the bottom. If I hadn’t been about to throw up and pass out, I might have enjoyed the tragic look on his face.
Now who feels like puking, huh?
He paled. All the color and blood drained from his face, and he wobbled, his six foot plus frame swaying like a willow in the breeze. Slowly, he dropped back into his rolling stool, then steadied himself against the counter.
He looked at my face, searching. Trying to determine if I was joking. As if. Women my age didn’t joke about something so serious. I narrowed my eyes and held his gaze.
Do you get it now, Einstein? If there’s a baby, you’re the father. Which means if I’m really pregnant and want to keep the baby, in nine months’ time, you’re going to be someone’s dad…
After breathing in deeply through his nose, he opened his mouth to speak, but before he could delay the inevitable one second longer, I hopped from the table and grabbed my panties from the chair beside the table.
“Look, uh, this was a bad idea.” I shoved one leg into my jeans, having slid on my panties in record time. “I can find another doctor, I promise. Mandy was only trying to help me out. I didn’t know this was your practice, obviously, and I just…I need some air.”
I hopped into my jeans and buttoned them, then reached for my top.
He opened his mouth to say something but remained silent after a couple of strained seconds. I half expected him to start yelling at me about condoms and birth control pills. As a doctor, he had to be wondering how this happened. But he should know, because condoms could and did fail. Obviously.
