by Isabel Love
“You are so beautiful,” he tells me. He says this often, but each time I can tell he means it. He makes me feel beautiful.
“You are too,” I tell him. I’ve never met a more beautiful person, inside and out.”
“Oh, you,” he scoffs. “You just want me for my body.”
“Mmmm, I do love your body. Why are you so far away? Get over here!”
“So bossy,” he says, but complies with my orders. He lies back down and I wrap my legs around his hips so we are skin to skin. He kisses me and rotates his hips, sliding his cock back and forth over my clit. I’m wet and ready, but he reaches down to make sure. He feels my wetness then positions his erection to push inside. Yes. I need him inside of me.
And then the alarm goes off.
“Fuck!” I hate that thing!
He chuckles and reaches over to turn it off then gets right back to business. “We only have seven more minutes and I plan to take advantage of every single one.”
It turns out seven minutes was not enough time, so we are now running late. I towel my hair dry, run a brush through it to get the tangles out, then put it in a bun.
“Max? Have you seen my badge?” Why does everything hide when I’m in a rush? I get dressed and scan the usual places. It's not on my nightstand, not on my dresser, not in my purse.
“Got it.” He holds it up and shows me. He is, of course, all dressed and ready to go. My badge dangles from one finger.
“Thank you! You ready?”
“Just waiting on you.” He watches as I apply a coat of mascara and lip gloss, amused at my frenzied state.
“What are you smiling at?”
“You. You do this every day. Don’t fret, you know we’re going to get to work with plenty of time to spare. We don’t even need to be there for an hour.” He pulls me into his arms for a hug and kisses my nose. “Take a breath and relax.”
I try to calm my racing heart and take a deep breath, letting it out slowly. “You’re right. Let’s go.”
I grab my purse and coat then we get into my car and head to work. I look out the window, struck by how lucky I am that I get to spend every day with this man.
After his accident, I was able to convince him to stay at my house. His recovery wasn’t easy, and the concussion was the injury that needed the most healing time. Reading, watching TV, or using a computer caused frequent headaches, and this made him very grumpy. For someone who is used to always taking care of everyone else, it was difficult for him to function at anything less than full capacity. We spent one month off of work together, and I loved being able to take care of him.
Then, once he was better and we returned to work, he never went back to his apartment. The thought of sleeping alone after being together non-stop was ridiculous. It didn’t make any sense for him to keep paying rent when he was always at my house, so we packed up his things and made it official. Money is still a bit of a touchy subject—he didn’t feel comfortable living with me for free, and I didn’t feel comfortable with him paying rent when my house was paid off. I would rather he keep his money as I can more than afford to pay for everything, but we compromised by splitting the utilities and food. He needs to feel like an equally contributing member of the household, and I respect that.
I love waking up with him every day, going to sleep with him every night, and everything in between. This morning was an exceptionally good start to the day.
A smile spreads across my face just thinking about it.
“What are you smiling about over there?” he asks.
“Just thinking about this morning.”
He smirks. “Better than hitting snooze two times just to get some extra sleep if you ask me.”
“Agreed.”
“What’s on your agenda today? You working in the ER or do you have meetings?” he asks.
“I’m in the ER.”
I’m still director, although I don’t know if I want to keep this position much longer. It’s just too stressful now that I’m a bigger part of the collaboration with Safe Zone. I’ve made some improvements to the department, but my passion is taking care of patients. Things are bound to get more stressful in the near future, so I’m debating stepping down from being the director and continuing on as a staff physician. I’m done trying to prove my worth to anyone and am focused on being happy. I haven’t mentioned anything to Max about it yet, though I know he will be supportive of whatever I decide to do.
Dr. Finley met with us when we returned to work with a couple of stipulations. I’m not allowed to give Max his performance reviews or decide his merit raises and, of course, we have to conduct ourselves in a professional manner at work. These conditions were easy to meet (though we have had sex in my office two more times, always after everyone is gone and with my door locked). The staff have all been great about it, too. Everyone was so focused on how Max was healing after his accident, our relationship was secondary news.
We pull into the garage and head into the hospital. He follows me to my office to store his things with mine and before he leaves to get to work, he pulls me close and kisses me soundly. I melt into him, wrapping my arms around his waist. His lips are soft and the kiss is sweet.
“I love you,” he says quietly, looking down into my eyes.
“I love you, too,” I say, lost in his gaze.
“See you in a few.” He kisses me once more and turns to go.
I touch my belly to calm the butterflies fluttering away. I need to tell him today.
Max
“Mrs. Harvey! What brings you in to see us today?” It’s always good when she can stay out of the ER, but then again, I always wonder how she’s doing. I remember the first time I met her, she told Monica I could help clear out her cobwebs. She also propositioned me with her harmless, feisty old lady flirtation.
“Well, now that my hip is better, I think something happened to my shoulder. I can barely lift up my arm,” she tells me, demonstrating how high she can lift it.
“I’m sorry to hear that. Let’s take a look, then I’ll get Dr. Morgan.”
Her eyes narrow at that. “Do you call her Dr. Morgan in bed?” I cough and try my hardest not to smile.
“Mrs. Harvey! I don’t kiss and tell.” The last time she was in, she discerned that Monica and I are together.
“I think it would be pretty hot. If my Eugene had been a doctor, I might have called him Dr. Harvey in bed. You should try it sometime.” It is pretty hot when I call her Dr. Morgan, but I’m not about to tell 85-year-old Mrs. Harvey that, nor do I want to picture her having sex with her husband.
“What did Mr. Harvey do for a living?”
“He was an electrician. He definitely knew how to light me up.” She cackles at her own joke and I can’t help but laugh with her. She’s too cute.
We go through some more questions about her shoulder and I do a quick exam. “Okay, I’ll be right back.”
“Wait, one minute.” I stop and look back at her with a raised eyebrow. She motions me forward so she can whisper in my ear, and I won’t even venture to guess what she’s going to say.
“Yes?”
“When are you going to put a ring on that girl’s finger?” I think of the little box I have tucked in my drawer at home.
“Don’t you worry your pretty little head over that, Mrs. Harvey,” I tell her. Monica cannot find out about this from Mrs. Harvey.
She studies me and I try my best to keep my face blank.
“You bought a ring!” she exclaims.
“I didn’t say that! And keep your voice down, would you?” There is only a curtain on these rooms and it is so easy to hear everything when you’re in the hall.”
“Well, you better hurry up. I need to come to your wedding and I’m not getting any younger!”
“Whenever it happens, I’ll make sure you get an invite,” I promise her.
She nods with a satisfied smile. “What about babies?”
“Babies?”
“I still say you two woul
d make beautiful babies. Dr. Morgan is older than you, isn’t she? She’s going to want babies soon.”
We haven’t talked much about babies other than to establish the fact that we both want kids. I can’t wait to have babies with Monica, to see her belly swell with our child. I love watching her work with kids here and at Safe Zone, and I know she’ll be a great mom.
“Well, when we decide to have babies, you’ll be the first to know.” I wink at her.
“Ha! That’s what I want to hear.” She slaps my face lightly and beams at me. “Now go get my favorite doctor.”
“Yes, ma’am.” I head out to the workstation and find Monica.
“How’s Mrs. Harvey?” she asks me.
“She’s worried about her arm.” I list her symptoms.
“Did she proposition you this time?”
I chuckle. “No, but you know Mrs. Harvey, she’s full of good ideas and inappropriate comments.”
“That’s why I love her.” She smiles with affection. Then she glances at the utility room and looks almost nervous. I follow her gaze, not quite sure what’s going through her mind. She clears her throat. “Hey, we had someone check-in to room three and I need to run a pregnancy test before I order an x-ray. Can you do that for me? The sample is on the counter in the utility room.”
Oookay. “No problem.” I’m not quite sure why the nurse taking care of the patient in room three can’t run the test, but I’m happy to help. I grab a pregnancy test and put some gloves on. On the counter, I find a specimen cup with a patient label on it. I unscrew the lid, dip the end of the test strip in the sample, and lay it on a paper towel. The timer goes off three minutes later and I see that the test is positive. Huh. We run these all the time as a precaution before ordering an x-ray or giving a prescription, but they are almost always negative. This patient is about to get a big surprise.
I check the label so I can enter the results in the patient’s chart. It says Monica Morgan.
Is that a coincidence? I read the label again—it still says Monica Morgan. I look at the test strip—it still shows two solid pink lines.
My heart starts to beat faster. Could this be my Monica? I look to the counter where I was just talking to her. She isn’t there. I go to the patient board and see who is listed for room three. It’s blank. I walk over to room three and confirm no one is there.
Oh. My. God.
Monica’s pregnant?
We’re having a baby?
Where is she? I need to see her.
I hear laughter coming from Mrs. Harvey’s room and head that way.
“I was just telling your stud muffin that he needs to put a ring on your finger and knock you up soon. It doesn’t have to be in that order in this day and age,” Mrs. Harvey says with an authoritative tone.
“Oh, really? And what did he have to say about that?” Monica asks her.
“He promised I’d be invited to the wedding and that I’d be the first to know when you get pregnant,” Mrs. Harvey reports.
Monica laughs. “He did, did he?”
“Um, Dr. Morgan?” I interrupt.
“Oh, I also told him he needs to call you Dr. Morgan in bed—wouldn’t that get your gears going?” Mrs. Harvey adds.
Monica laughs and turns to look at me. She meets my eyes and looks almost shy. My eyes drop to her belly. Nothing looks different.
“Can I speak to you for a moment?”
“Of course.” She turns back to Mrs. Harvey. “I’m going to order an x-ray, but I don’t think this is a fracture. It might just be your rotator cuff. I’ll be back after your test to review the results.”
“Thank you, dear. Can Max take me to my test? You know how I love trying to make him blush.”
“I’ll be right back, Mrs. Harvey,” I tell her.
Monica follows me out of the room, down the hall, and to the staff room. Her office is too far away, but I need a room with a door for this conversation. I close the door and hug her close.
“Are you pregnant?” I ask, my voice barely above a whisper.
She smiles a breathtakingly beautiful smile and nods her head. “I am. I didn’t know how to tell you. We didn’t exactly plan this, but—”
I kiss her, and I kiss her deep, our lips, tongues, and teeth clashing. I’m ravenous for her. I pour my emotions into this kiss—how much I love her, how lucky I feel to be with her, how happy I am that she is pregnant.
Pregnant.
A baby.
A little bit of me and a little bit of her.
Our baby.
I pull back and pepper kisses all over her face—her nose, cheeks, eyes, chin. She laughs and holds my face still so she can look into my eyes.
“Is this okay? Are you happy?” she asks me.
I smile at her. “I’m so happy. I’m shocked, but happy.”
She sighs a breath of relief and I pull her back into my chest to hug her close.
“I want everything with you, Monica, everything,” I whisper to her.
“Umm, guys?” a voice interrupts. Monica jumps away from me and we both turn to see Rosetti standing by the microwave with his hands up. “Sorry. I meant to cough earlier to let you know I’m here, but you seemed to be having a moment.”
Monica holds her chest in surprise. “Tony! Shit, you scared me! I’m so sorry!”
“No problem. Congratulations, guys!”
I tuck Monica into my side, unable to stop touching her right now.
“You heard that, huh?” she asks, embarrassed to be caught during such a personal moment.
“Kinda.” He cringes. “Don’t worry, I won’t say a word and I didn’t see anything, but I’m so happy for you two. This is going to be one lucky kid.”
“Thank you, Rosetti.” I beam at him. He shakes my hand, hugs Monica, and then leaves us alone.
“How are you feeling?” I reach down to touch her belly. It’s still the same, but I leave my hand there, loving the fact that our child is growing right under my touch.
“I’m okay. A bit nauseous, but nothing terrible.”
I laugh as something occurs to me.
“What?” Monica asks.
“I just promised Mrs. Harvey she’d be the first to know when you get pregnant. Do you think she’s psychic?”
Monica laughs, too. “She’s been rooting for us, that’s for sure.”
“Is it okay to tell people?”
“Well, I’m only six weeks along, so it might be best to wait a bit before we tell everybody.”
“Can we at least tell Mrs. Harvey? It’s just amazing that she was talking about us having a baby not 10 minutes ago and then I find out we actually are having a baby.”
She shrugs. “If you really want to, but can we wait a few weeks before we tell everyone else?”
“Sounds good. Do you still want to go to the club tonight?” I ask her. We had plans with Charlie, Logan, Tate, and Quinn to meet up at Club Bailar; Charlie got a new account and wanted to celebrate. “If you’re not feeling up to it, we can cancel.”
“We can still go. I’ve been a bit more tired than usual, so I might not be up to staying out late, but it’s salsa night—we have to go show off our moves.”
“Okay.” I hug her again. “Have I told you lately how much I love you?”
“Tell me again.”
“I love you.”
“I love you, too.”
“Congrats on your new account!” I shout to Charlie over the music of the club. Charlie, Logan, and I are at the bar getting a drink before we join the girls on the dance floor.
“Thanks. This is going to be awesome. Maybe I can afford to buy a Porsche like Monica’s old one now that I’ll have some more cash coming in.”
“If you want it, I have a feeling you’ll find a way to make it happen,” I tell him.
“How are things with you and Monica?”
I can’t control my smile. “She’s amazing. I think I’m going to ask her this weekend.” I was trying to come up with some epic way to propose, but n
ow I just want to ask her to marry me. Maybe I’ll even do it tonight.
Logan and Charlie slap my back. “I think you’re crazy for wanting only one woman, but I’m so happy you’re happy,” Charlie tells me. Wait until he finds out about the baby.
“What’s up with you and Quinn?” Logan asks him. I’ve wondered about this, too. At times, it looks like they’re together, but I’ve also seen Charlie hooking up with other girls. Quinn is currently chatting up some guy on the dance floor, and he looks very interested.
“We have fun sometimes, but we aren’t together. She’s awesome in bed and fun to hang out with, but you know me, I don’t want a relationship.” He shrugs.
“So you don’t care if she goes home with that guy tonight?” Logan asks.
Charlie looks at Quinn as she laughs at something the guy says to her. He checks her out from head to toe, eyes flaring with interest, but I don’t see jealousy, only attraction. Quinn must feel us staring at her because she looks our way. When she catches us looking, she gives Charlie a saucy smile and winks at him. He laughs and winks back.
“She can go home with whoever she wants. Doesn’t mean she won’t be wishing it was me.”
Logan and I laugh and shake our heads.
We do a celebratory shot then turn to look at the dance floor and my eyes track Monica. She’s with Quinn, Tate, and Julie from work, who we discovered likes to dance when she showed up at a salsa lesson. She and Monica have become better friends ever since, and it’s great to see Monica embrace all sides of her life. When I first met her, she would have hidden if a co-worker saw her dancing at a club. Now she’s out there dancing with her.
Boy, do I love watching her dance. I think of the first night I saw her in this very club, arms thrown up over her head, eyes closed, feeling the music and letting her body move. I was drawn to her then.
I’m still drawn to her now.
