Page 76 of Rebound

Okay, I’m gonna eat these cookies and finish this presentation. I have a doctor’s appointment in a few hours I’m nervous about.

Vera

Another one?

Since it’s a geriatric pregnancy the risks are sometimes higher. So far everything has been good, but my doctor wants to see me every month and check the progress.

And find out if I can safely have sex.

Vera

I KNEW YOU WANTED TO RIDE THE INDIAN VIKING

STOP YELLING AT ME!

Vera

But yeah, I really fucking do. We haven’t kissed since the day he got here and I’m DESPERATE.

Vera

GET YOURS MAMA.

But also keep me posted on the test results. Crossing my fingers and toes for you.

Love you, Vee.

Vera

Love you more, Tam.

I’ve never considered myself someone who gets easily distracted, but between eating every cookie in the box and staring at the flowers, I got nothing done. Yes, I finished the presentation for Julia Christopher—her full name must be said at all times for the right effect—but then my brain checked out. Dr. Gopalan keeps assuring me these doctor’s appointments are routine and nothing to worry about, but how can you tell someone with anxiety not to worry? It’s ridiculous. I’m going to worry anyway, might as well do it with good reason.

It takes me almost thirty minutes to pack my things and order a cab. Patrick offered to come pick me up, but it didn’t make sense for him to go back and forth in this heat. I get the cab driver to crank up the AC and it helps cool me down a little, but I’m really worried when I get up there’ll be a sweat stain on these gorgeous grey pants I forced myself into.

I haven’t ventured into buying maternity wear yet, because I want to see how long I can wear my regular wardrobe for. But with the way these trousers cling to my stomach and hips, I probably need to do that sooner rather than later. At the clinic, I get out of the car and adjust my bag on my shoulder when a tall figure stands up in the covered parking area. His face is shadowed by the bill of the cap, but I know exactly who it is.

He’s in his usual uniform of black T-shirt, sneakers, trousers and cap. But there’s something different about him today. Maybe because I’ve been having dirty dreams where he’s the main star. I realised at some point this past week that I can have him, if I let myself go just a little.

Patrick’s broad chest fills out the plain cotton covering his torso and his tattoos pop against the dark shade. It’s very distracting. I lick my lips and wipe the corners in case I’m drooling and walk towards him as Patrick steps into the sun with his signature grin. My knees wobble and I whimper. Daddy mode activated. I can see his face better as he gets closer and all I want is to be pinned against a wall and devoured by the Viking walking towards me.

“Hey, Lotus.”

“Daddy,” I whisper and slap a hand over my mouth. Every inch of him goes still.

In the time it took my brain to reset, he’s moved close enough I can inhale his leather and cedar scent. “Say that again, Lo,” he says, dangerous, sexy and rough.

“Hi, Daddy.”

“Fuck,” he growls and cups my face. “Daddy Trick’s here, sweetheart.”

I groan and tilt my head back. “The heat’s getting to me.”

“Okay, baby. Whatever you say.” He laughs and the corners of his eyes wrinkle with his amusement, making me smile.

And right then, the baby kicks. “Trick! Oh my god.”

I pull his hand to my belly. We’ve had slight movement so far, but this is the most active the baby has been. It takes a few seconds before they kick again and Patrick’s eyes widen. Like with our first ultrasound together, he’s teary and it’s so fucking beautiful. He spreads both hands around my stomach and our baby continues moving and gently pressing against his touch.