Page 72 of My Horrible Arranged Marriage (Bancroft Billionaire Brothers #20)

ISAAC

I checked my watch for the third time in five minutes, pacing in front of my bedroom mirror while adjusting my collar. Not that it mattered what I wore to a doctor’s appointment, but today felt different. Important.

“Get it together, Bancroft,” I muttered to my reflection.

“I’ll be out in a second,” Mina called out.

I was going to see my little bean. Poor kid. Mina called our baby a bean and now I was doing it too. What I wore didn’t matter but it did feel like we were meeting each other for the first time. Although it was going to be a one-sided meeting.

Mina finally stepped out of the bathroom.

“You okay?” I asked.

She sighed. “Bean is stirring things up in there.”

I walked over to the dresser and grabbed the can of ginger ale. She took it and smiled. “Thanks.”

“I hate that I can’t take the sickness for you,” I said.

“Me too.” She leaned against the doorframe as she looked at me. “But you’re here, aren’t you? That’s enough.”

I shoved my hands into my pockets. It didn’t feel like enough. Not even close. I was about to see a tiny human who would depend on me for everything. The thought made my stomach twist in a way that had nothing to do with Mina’s morning sickness.

“Ready?” she asked, slipping on her sandals.

She was wearing a pair of leggings and a long shirt.

We had definitely noticed the slightest change in her lower belly.

She didn’t want to buy maternity clothes just yet.

She said she wasn’t sure if she was prepared to buy clothes in size whale.

I was perfectly happy to see her in the leggings. I couldn’t resist touching her ass.

“Yeah,” I said. “Let’s go meet this little bean.”

The summer heat hit us as soon as we stepped outside. I walked her to my Porsche.

“We need a minivan,” I said absently.

“What?”

“I don’t exactly have room for a car seat in this thing,” I said as I opened the passenger door for her. “I’ll get something more sensible. At the very least, an SUV.”

I quickly got into the driver’s seat.

“You nervous?” she asked.

“Me? Nah,” I lied as I pulled out of the parking spot. “You?”

She laughed softly. “I’m anxious. And I have to pee. Do you know how hard it is to puke with a full bladder?”

I had to laugh. “Not even a little.”

“It’s a bit like Russian Roulette.”

Of course, Manhattan traffic sucked. I drummed my fingers on the steering wheel, stealing glances at Mina as she fidgeted in her seat.

We finally pulled into the parking lot of the medical center. I helped Mina out of the car and laced my fingers through hers.

She squeezed my hand. The waiting room was a sea of expectant mothers, some with partners, others alone. This was not where I expected to be. Now, yes, but six months ago, me in a baby doctor office was probably about the last thing I would have imagined.

We took seats and began the hurry up and wait process.

Mina flipped through one of those baby magazines like she might absorb prenatal wisdom through osmosis.

I picked up one of the informational brochures for a birthing class.

I was traumatized. But I couldn’t look away.

I had so many questions. Like why in the hell would a woman want her shit hanging out in a brochure.

And why did the birth need to be so… messy?

“I think I might throw up,” I muttered.

She didn’t even look up. “You’re not the one whose uterus is about to be on display, babe.”

“True,” I said, swallowing. “But I’m emotionally pregnant.”

That got me a side glance and a snort.

“I feel like this is the moment where things get real,” I said under my breath, leaning closer. “Like, before now it was morning sickness and hormones and talking about baby names. Do you know what happens? Do you know how that bean comes out?”

She laughed. “Yes, Isaac, I’m very aware.”

“I’m sorry,” I blurted out. “Like really sorry.”

Her soft giggles made me smile. “We’re here. Millions, no billions, of women have done this. I’m good. At least, I hope I’m good.”

Before I could say anything horrifying and ruin the moment, a nurse appeared at the door.

“Duvall?”

Mina stood. I followed, clutching her bag and my sanity like they might fly away if I let go.

“We are so getting that fixed,” I muttered.

“Getting what fixed?” she asked.

“Duvall,” I spat the word. “You’re a Bancroft.”

“Not until you marry me, mister.”

Mina climbed onto the table, and I stood beside her. The ultrasound tech was a cheerful woman that was very efficient. She instructed Mina to push down her pants and then squirted goo on her belly.

“You two ready?” she asked.

“Nope,” Mina said cheerfully. “But we’re here anyway.”

“That’s all it takes,” she replied, then turned to me. “First-timer?”

I nodded. “Can you tell?”

“The color’s draining from your face at an impressive rate.”

“Fantastic.”

The screen came to life as she moved the wand across Mina’s belly.

I stared at it, looking for my baby in the shifting blobs.

I heard whooshing and other strange sounds, but I was not seeing a baby.

Panic bubbled up. What if it wasn’t in there?

Mina had cruelly warned me about the statistics, but we had crossed the first trimester. I had marked it in my calendar.

“There we go,” the tech said.

I leaned forward, scanning the screen. What the hell was wrong with the woman? Did she have some kind of extra vision? I squeezed Mina’s hand. She looked up at me and I felt a wave of relief. She didn’t see it either.

“Alright, hold on,” the tech said. She messed with some buttons and knobs on the machine and then the room filled with the most beautiful sound I ever heard.

Thump-thump-thump-thump.

It was a little high-pitched and sounded watery, but even I knew that was a heartbeat. I felt it like it was in my chest.

“That’s the heartbeat,” the tech said. “Nice and strong.”

My breath caught.

Mina’s fingers curled tighter around mine, and when I looked over, her eyes were shining.

“I didn’t think I’d cry,” she whispered.

“Me neither,” I said. “But, uh, here we are. Wet-eyed weirdos.”

We laughed, and then just stared.

I couldn’t look away from the screen. It was insane to think I did that. I had put a baby in her. That was pretty fucking cool. How could something so small already take up this much space in my world?

The wildest part? I loved this blurry little bean already. Not in a theoretical way. Not in a someday-we’ll-throw-a-ball way. But in a this is mine way.

Ours.

“Got a squiggler here,” the tech said and used one hand to punch a couple of keys.

“Poor child,” I muttered. “It’s doomed to inherit your sass and my recklessness.”

The tech laughed and kept doing whatever it was she was doing.

I just wanted to stand there and listen to the heartbeat all day.

I made a mental note to buy one of these machines.

No, one of my brothers told me they had a portable machine and they listened to the heartbeat of their baby every night.

Either way, I was going to find one. I didn’t know what it was called, but we were most definitely going to get one.

“You want to know the gender today?” the tech asked. “We’re far enough along—I can tell you right now if you want.”

Mina turned to me. “What do you think?”

I blinked. “Wait, now now?”

“Yep,” the tech said. “Takes thirty seconds.”

Mina’s eyes lit with curiosity. “Kinda tempting.”

I panicked. “But maybe we shouldn’t?”

She arched a brow. “Are you scared of knowing?”

“No,” I said, clearly lying. “It’s just… it’s the one surprise in life we don’t have to ruin with technology. We could go old school.”

It felt like one of the biggest decisions of my life. I was not prepared. We were supposed to hear a heartbeat and make sure the little bean was all good. Boy or girl had not been on the table.

I looked at her, really looked. She had an amused smile that said she saw me freaking out and loved it. This whole experience had been full of uncharted territory, unexpected twists, and moments of sheer panic.

“You know what?” I said finally. “Let’s wait. Let’s let this one be a surprise. No leaks. No spoilers. Just let it happen when it happens.”

Mina smiled wide. “Thank God. I was so hoping you would say that.” She turned her head to look at the tech. “No, thank you.”

The woman gave us both a thumbs-up. “You’re stronger than most. We had one couple who wanted a surprise and then cracked before they got to the parking lot.”

“Yeah, no promises,” I said, as she began printing the pictures.

We left a few minutes later, clutching a handful of blurry black-and-white photos like they were priceless works of art. In the car, I sat for a long moment, just staring at the image. That little bean was my whole world.

Mina leaned over, resting her cheek against my shoulder. “There they are,” she said. “Our baby.”

“Our surprisingly wiggly bean,” I added, my voice rough.

We fell into a gentle quiet, staring at the picture as if it could reveal something more if we just looked hard enough.

“What do you think they’ll be like?” she asked.

“Hopefully less impulsive than us,” I said. “But stubborn, definitely. Curious. Probably sarcastic from the womb. He or she is going to give us hell.”

She laughed. “God help us if they get my sass and your attitude.”

“Oh, it’s over for the world.”

We sat like that, dreaming of our future with our first-born. Hopefully, the first of several but we’d see if we survived the next year or two.

“Do you ever worry about who you’ll be as a parent?” Mina asked softly.

I turned to her. “Of course. Isn’t that normal?”

“I mean, my childhood wasn’t exactly normal.

And I’ve made a lot of mistakes. What if I don’t have that mothering gene?

I’ve seen some of the really good moms and then not-so-good.

I don’t even think the ones that suck intentionally suck.

They just do. I want to be a mom, but what if I’m just not cut out for it? ”

I cupped the back of her head, pulling her gently toward me, and pressed a kiss to her forehead.

“You’re going to be spectacular,” I said. “You already are.”

She exhaled slowly, her breath brushing my neck. “A whole baby. I feel like I’m a child still. We have to keep a human alive.”

I chuckled softly. “Well, when you put it that way, it does sound terrifying. But hey, we’ve got a big family to call and ask for help at two in the morning.”

“Do you remember last week I left my phone in the car?” she asked. “What if I forget the baby?”

“You won’t,” I assured her. “We’ll figure it out together. Besides, this kid’s got the whole Bancroft clan to fall back on if we royally screw up.”

“I just... I want to do right by this little bean,” she said.

“And you will. We’re bound to screw up, but like you said, billions of people are on the face of the earth. Not counting the billions from the past. Things will be fine. I know it. We’ll baby-proof and buy every gadget and gizmo designed to make us better parents.”

She sighed and leaned back in the seat. “Are we crazy?”

“Yep.”