A Baby for the Vet (Boys of Rockford Series Book 4)

by Henley Maverick

  My hands tangled themselves in his hair, and I pushed myself even closer.

  “How’s this?” he mumbled as he shook his head sideways. “Better?”

  “You forgot the most important part,” I complained, breathily. “What about my lips?”

  He pressed himself up against me in an instant as his hands made quick work of my zipper. The dress pooled around my waist, and he quickly unhooked my bra, allowing my hardened breasts to spill forward.

  He palmed them in his hands, taking the time to run his thumb along the sensitive nub of the nipple on both sides before he lowered his mouth to them. I threw my head back and let out a deep throaty moan as I pressed my burning core to his.

  I fumbled with the button on his jeans until they finally came off, and he drew back a bit to kick them away before returning to his earlier task. I reached between us with my hands and felt his member pulsate against my touch.

  It was straining against his boxer shorts, and I smirked as I heard him grunt and suck in a harsh breath.

  I woke up with a start only to realize that my entire body was convulsing in pleasure. A dreamy smile etched its way into my features as I slipped out of the bath and into comfy pajamas.

  It wasn’t long before I drifted off into a fitful and satisfied sleep.

  6

  Dean

  I could already tell it was going to be one of those mornings.

  Not because I was psychic or anything, but rather because I’d slept through my alarm, forgotten to fill up the tank in my car, and apparently had no clean button-down shirts because I’d forgotten to do the laundry.

  I scrubbed my hands over my face as I sipped on the scalding hot coffee, honking as a car swerved into my line, nearly hitting the side mirror. I stuck my head out the window and let lose a string of profanities, already feeling better.

  Okay, so maybe this day wasn’t going to be so bad after all.

  I whistled under my breath when traffic finally cleared up, and I was reversing into my parking spot. I checked my watch and wiped my hands across my forehead, clearing away the thin sheen of sweat.

  I wasn’t later after all.

  “Good morning, Nancy,” I greeted as I slipped on my white doctor’s coat and began to button up. Nancy was the receptionist at the desk who was a recent grad with a dry sense of humor. She was a small blonde with the ability to juggle a lot, which was why I hired her.

  “Good morning, Dean,” she said, without looking up from her computer screen. “You have a busy day ahead of you.”

  “I do?” I scrunched up my eyebrows as I tried to remember what was on the agenda for today. Recognition suddenly dawned on my face as my easy-going smile faded a bit.

  “Today is the day the Greyson’s and Mrs. Blevins are coming in, isn’t it?”

  “Oh, the joy,” Nancy muttered with a rueful smile as she handed me their files. “It could be a lot worse.”

  “Somehow, I doubt that.”

  “At least there aren’t any more cats,” she reminded me as she grinned.

  “Thank goodness she’s picky about her cats, because I don’t think I could handle any more,” I whispered, earning a laugh from Nancy, who shooed me towards the office.

  Mrs. Blevins was already waiting for me inside, her hands on her hips, and her gray hair pulled up into a severe bun. I hated to be the one to perpetuate stereotypes, but she was the embodiment of this one.

  Not that she wasn’t a nice old lady. I certainly liked her well enough, but it was exasperating trying to deal with her sometimes. Mostly because she came from a time where if someone younger than her tried to offer advice, it was considered disrespectful.

  I plastered on a cheerful smile. “Hello, Mrs. Blevins, how are the triplets doing today?”

  Mrs. Blevins chuckled as she patted her cats fondly. “They’re doing just fine. We’re just here for a checkup.”

  I nodded as I picked up my stethoscope. “Of course. Are they eating okay? Anything unusual?”

  Mrs. Blevins shook her head. “Not at all. My little angels are as right as rain.”

  She beamed at them and began speaking in that baby voice that most owners adopted around pets. I smiled as I crouched down, petted them and began to check their vital signs.

  All of three of them were lying docile on the counter, taking turns giving me lazy and condescending looks. I generally didn’t mind cats, but if there was one thing that irritated me about them, it was their haughty attitude.

  Quickly and methodically, I began to make sure that everything was in order with all three of her cats, and they all gave me equally beady and bored looks as if they too, wanted to be done as soon as possible.

  I feel you, cats.

  I really do. Mrs. Blevins tended to be paranoid when it came to her cats. She was in here every other week when her cats were as healthy as they possibly could be. I repeatedly told her, but she wouldn’t listen.

  “I think we’d better take them to the other examination room to wrap this up,” I declared as I stood up and shoved my hands into my pockets.

  Mrs. Blevins insisted on getting X-ray scans every single time too, so I picked up my clipboard and held the door open as she held all three of them in her hands. She didn’t believe in crates, or cat cages as she liked to call them because she considered them barbaric and would never submit her babies to such torture.

  I snorted when she first told me only to realize that she was being serious. I ducked my head when she gave me a stern look and muttered something about getting right down to it.

  As soon as I opened the door, the cats began to hiss, and their hair stood up on end. Mrs. Blevins shrieked when she spotted the Greyson’s dog sitting right outside my door. His pointy ears perked when he smelled the cats, and he stood on his massive hind paws and growled.

  He was a Great Dane who could easily tackle every single one of us, should he desire, but now, his attention was focused on the cats. One of them slipped and fell out of Mrs. Blevins’ hand and began to screech as it drew its mouth back to reveal teeth.

  Buster, the Greyson’s Great Dane, launched forward, and Mrs. Blevins gasped in surprise as she leapt backwards, stepping on her cat’s tail. The cat let out an ear-piercing screech in protest which sent Buster into a frenzy.

  He jumped forward and began to chase the cat, who was zigzagging all over the room, trying her best to get away from the massive slobbering ball of fur. Everyone in the office jumped forward to try intercept Buster, but it was like trying to stop a bulldozer for all the good it did. He kept slipping out of our grasps, and by this time the other two cats had climbed on top of Mrs. Blevins’ shoulders and were hissing like crazy.

  Buster zoomed past me, and I jumped at him, but instead grabbed a fistful of his thin air.

  My lips twitched in amusement as I try to keep myself from laughing at the whole thing.

  It really was quite comedic from an outsider’s point of view. I sobered up once I saw the look that crossed Mrs. Blevins’ face, and I straightened my back as my colleagues and I closed ranks on Buster.

  Finally, Mr. Greyson was able to wrap his arms around Buster’s neck in a chokehold until Buster’s panting quieted down, and he stopped growling. Mr. Greyson began scratching Buster’s ears as he whispered soothingly into his ear.

  The dog seemed to calm down, and I rushed into my office and shook a box of cat treats to get the third cat to come out of hiding. I heard her soft meow before she poked her head out from her hiding spot.

  I dove to the ground and gathered the cat into my arms amidst its screeches and bites. I grunted as it nearly slipped out of my reach.

  “Gotcha,” I announced, triumphantly as I held it up. “Now hold still, and let’s see if we can get the other two in here.”

  I wagged my finger at the cat as I tutted and tucked her under my arm. Mrs. Blevins entered the room, looking prudish as she lifted her chin up.

  “I have the other two,” she said, primly as she deposited them onto my counter. �
�Well, that was a lot of excitement.”

  “Yes, it was,” I said, cautiously as I peered at her. “Cats and dogs don’t really get along though.”

  Mrs. Blevins didn’t seem to be listening as she cooed and fussed over her cats, muttering under her breath about nasty dogs, and how they were so much better.

  “Yes, and there’s a reason why. Dogs know that cats are superior, and they hate it,” she responded, matter-of-factly. “You know should know this by now, Mr. Bennett.”

  “I should?” I echoed, dumbly as the ghost of a smile tugged the corners of my lips upwards. “I had no idea.”

  “Well, now you do.” She fixed me with a beady look. “As a matter of fact, this whole ‘no leash’ thing is completely unacceptable.”

  I breathed a sigh of relief. “I completely agree, Mrs. Blevins, perhaps next time—”

  “Mutts aren’t like beautiful and majestic cats. They should be kept in cages, and if not there, then on incredibly tight leashes,” she interrupted, nodding importantly to herself. “Yes, that’s right. It should be mandatory.”

  She looked very pleased with herself and not at all apologetic. She was the reason Buster chased after her cats. They egged him on after all, and she didn’t look the least bit concerned about that.

  No, she was quite happy to lay the blame on someone else, or rather something else.

  I took a deep breath. “I’m sure you don’t mean that, Mrs. Blevins. Dogs wouldn’t want to be kept on a leash or in a cage all the time just like you don’t want that for your cats.”

  Mrs. Blevins raised an eyebrow and drew herself up to her full height. “I most certainly do not agree. Dogs are mutts. Cats are far more superior therefore they deserve better treatment.”

  “Riiiiigghhhhtt,” I drawled as I scratched the back of my neck. “Well, let’s get back to that checkup, shall we?”

  “Yes, we should,” Mrs. Blevins agreed as she positioned herself in front of the cats and began talking to them in a normal voice.

  I sucked in a huge gulp of air, put that smile on my face and got to work.

  Yeah, I took it back. It was definitely going to be one of those days.

  After I wrapped up for the day, I let out a deep breath I hadn’t realized I’d been holding in and plopped down onto my chair. I lifted my feet up and began to rub them together, massaging my temples simultaneously.

  The rest of the day passed by agonizingly slowly, and the most interesting part was, by far, the cat and dog chasing game that was going on. I hated to say that it, but that was the highlight of my day.

  That’s how much of a slow day I was having.

  Not that I wanted it to be too fast paced or anything.

  I fiddled with my Facebook for a bit, letting my mind go comfortably blank as I liked and commented on pictures of my friends on vacation. I ran my hands through my hair, making it stick out in tufts as I chewed on the inside of my lip.

  My fingers hovered over the keyboard and stopped. I leaned forward, placing elbows on either side of the desk, cradling my head between them.

  A few minutes passed till I finally stood up, stretched and began to clear away my instruments. I slipped off the coat, hung it up and quickly tidied up my desk. I checked the clock and realized that everyone was probably gone for the day.

  It was past four, and everyone was required to clock out at four o’clock. I let out a big yawn as I covered my mouth and blinked sleepily.

  Today was going to be a staying in kind of day. Maybe with some popcorn and a movie. It was exactly what I needed right now.

  Suddenly, I heard rapping on the door behind me. I shrugged into my regular jacket and frowned.

  “We’re closed,” I called out. “Come back again tomorrow.”

  The rattling on the door stopped, so I spun around, curious as to what was happening. I froze when my eyes drank in the ice queen herself, standing before me looking incredibly uncomfortable.

  Her eyes were darting left then right as if she’d rather be anywhere but here. Dressed in a pair of Bermuda shorts and a t-shirt, I decided to keep my mouth shut this time.

  She opened the door and took a few steps forward, reached for my hand and placed a picture in it. When I peered at it, I realized that it was the baby growing inside of her.

  Our baby.

  Our baby boy.

  7

  Kaitlyn

  Truthfully, I had no idea what I was doing here.

  That seemed to happen a lot where Dean was concerned. Every time I thought I was done with him for good, something drew me in, like this invisible tether that twisted round and round till it wound itself around us.

  Of course, this was largely due to the life growing inside of me.

  It still felt strange for me to think of it as a baby, and not as an ‘it.’

  Even more disconcerting was thinking of the baby as a he. The baby was a real person who was formed now. With a heart and everything. I almost couldn’t believe it when I saw the sonogram.

  I kept blinking as if that would somehow change the picture, and the shock that flooded my system came as a surprise to me. It wasn’t like I didn’t know that I was pregnant. My body reminded me of it every day, so why then was this sudden tangible proof so frightening?

  Probably because it made even more real.

  I had a picture now. Of my baby boy.

  Our baby boy.

  Yet, that still didn’t explain what I was doing here. After my last confrontation with Dean, I swore I would avoid him at all costs. Sure, he had the right to be a father, but that didn’t mean he had to be there every step of the way.

  I rather preferred it if he wasn’t, and yet I couldn’t stop myself from getting into that car and driving to his clinic. It was like I was on auto drive, the maternal instincts kicking in as they lead me to where I needed to go.

  Next thing I knew, I was staring at his clinic, clenching the steering wheel between my fists as sweat poured steadily down my face. I was sure he wouldn’t even want to talk to me, but I still went in.

  Against my better judgement, and my logic screaming at me to turn around and go back. I guess what they said about motherhood was true though. It did make a person sentimental.

  I still had no idea what I was hoping for, but here I was.

  I was already starting to feel the first pangs of regret as I saw Dean study the picture, drinking it all in as his face lit up with an emotion I couldn’t bear to see.

  Hope.

  A deadly emotion.

  One that I wanted to wipe right off his face. It shouldn’t be there.

  Hope was dangerous, and I knew that firsthand. Obviously, Dean didn’t care as he touched the picture and smiled gently. Almost as if he was touching our son himself.

  It made me feel oddly vulnerable, and I mentally began to curse the fact that I was here. I let my conscience get the better of me.

  Again.

  I don’t know why I felt the need to drive out here, show him the picture and let him know the gender of the baby. Why was it necessary for him to know? What good could it possibly do?

  He could’ve found out after, not now.

  I wanted to snatch the picture away and make him forget he ever saw it, but the look on his face made me pause. Such tenderness was reflecting from his eyes, and I couldn’t help but wonder what he was thinking.

  Was he happy I came? Confused? Angry?

  After our last conversation, it could be all three depending on what mood I was in. Right now, I was feeling oddly generous.

  It wasn’t something I was accustomed to feeling, and I wondered if it was a side effect of the pregnancy. Making me all soft and gooey to prepare for the baby.

  “He’s beautiful,” Dean whispered as he traced the outline of the picture. “Don’t you think so?”

  I shrugged. “I guess so.”

  Babies weren’t really my thing. Sure, I thought they could be cute, but when they hadn’t formed features yet, how was it possible to see them as beautifu
l?

  Dean shared no such reservations, clearly.

  Dean opened his mouth to say something then seemed to think better of it as he snapped his mouth shut.

  “I’m about sixteen weeks along,” I informed him as he dragged his eyes away from the picture and looked at me. He was mentally doing the math, and I briefly speculated as to whether he ever doubted that the baby was his.

  It’s not like I was in the habit of sleeping with many guys, but he didn’t know that. He didn’t know me, period, so perhaps this would come as assurance.

  “He looks big,” Dean said, finally, awe tinging his voice. “Is that normal?”

  “He’s not that big. The doctor said he’s just the right size for his age,” I responded as I dragged my hands across my hair nervously. This wasn’t the type of conversation I wanted to be having.

  “Is he healthy? Is everything okay?” Dean asked, suddenly as if he just remembered that he was supposed to ask these questions. He looked embarrassed and a little out of his element but determined to push through nonetheless.

  “Yes, everything is fine,” I assured him, a small smile making its way to my lips. It was oddly sweet how much he cared, and I found it getting to me more than I would like it to.

  “And how about you? Do you need anything?” he asked, earnestly as his gaze swept over me in non-sexual way.

  I wasn’t used to that, at all, and it left my stomach tied up in knots, and a weird emotion coursing through me.

  “No, I’m okay thanks.”

  Silence descended upon us as we both looked at everything in the clinic except for each other, the weight of a thousand things laying between us.

  “He’s the size of an avocado, by the way,” I said. “So, he’s not that big. It just seems like he is.”