Project Runaway Bride(35)

Despite Reid’s money and influence—two things she was sure he’d used in order to secure an appointment with an exclusive gynecologist in such a short amount of time—they still ended up waiting in the examination room for long, interminable minutes until the doctor arrived.

She sat on the end of the examination table, feeling a bit like a deli sandwich as paper crinkled beneath her, while Reid took the single chair situated along the opposite wall. The clock behind her ticked off the seconds until Juliet thought she might scream.

Finally, there was a knock at the door and the doctor entered, greeting both her and Reid with a firm handshake. A manila folder containing her test results in hand, he lowered himself onto the low, wheeled stool at the end of the exam table and smiled warmly.

Splitting his attention equally between his new patient and the man who would be paying the bill, he said, “I know you’re eager to have the big question answered, so why don’t we get right to it. Congratulations—you are, in fact, expecting.”

Juliet hadn’t noticed how tight her chest was until she released her breath on a whoosh. And Reid must have been equally tense, because she heard his exhalation from across the room.

His face, however, was a blank slate. She couldn’t tell whether he was happy or disappointed, upset or indifferent. Which only caused her chest to grow tight again. The doctor’s continued friendliness helped to put her at ease, though.

“How would you feel about an ultrasound? We can get a look at your little peanut and maybe get an idea of how far along you are.”

The thought of seeing the baby, even as tiny as it must be and on the fuzzy black-and-white screen of an ultrasound machine, brought a lump to her throat.

Swallowing hard and blinking back the moisture that stung her eyes, she nodded eagerly. “Yes, please.”

She spared a glance for Reid, who stood up and moved to the head of the examination table with her while the doctor got everything ready. She almost reached for his hand, part of her wishing he would reach for her.

But then, they weren’t a normal expectant couple, were they? They were just two people who had happened to make a baby together.





Nine



Reid sat in his darkened study, a glass of scotch on the desk in front of him, the open bottle right next to it. He threw back the two fingers of amber liquid, then poured himself another, his gaze never leaving the printed picture in his hand.

If he didn’t know what he was looking at, he would have thought it was some peculiar three-dimensional puzzle picture of the Loch Ness Monster or a crater on the moon.

But he did know what he was looking at. The peanut, as the doctor had called it. His son or daughter.

It was too soon to tell which, but even if it hadn’t been, Juliet had begged the doctor not to reveal the baby’s gender. She wanted it to be a surprise, and Reid was fine with that. He’d had more than enough surprises for one week, thank you very much.

He was going to be a father. Again. And once again it was with a woman who didn’t necessarily intend to let him be part of his child’s life.

He’d never thought his relationship with Valerie was complicated, and look how that had turned out.

On the other hand, Juliet was complicated with a capital C. He’d known that the minute she’d walked into his office at McCormack Investigations asking him to find her sister.

Now, on top of everything else, she was pregnant. He wasn’t sure there was a word in the dictionary for how complicated that made this.

Taking another belt of scotch, he slid open the center drawer of the desk and laid the sonogram picture safely inside. Then, pushing to his feet, he left the study and slowly climbed the stairs to the second floor.

Juliet’s bedroom door was closed, just as it had been since soon after they arrived home.

After the appointment, he’d driven back to the brownstone without a word being spoken between them. She’d fixed herself a bite to eat for lunch and offered to make him something, too, but he’d declined. He definitely hadn’t been in the mood for food.

He hadn’t been in the mood to talk, either, though she’d asked if he wanted to. He gave her credit for that: for being willing to open up and discuss their situation rather than zipping her lips and cutting him out of anything related to the pregnancy.

He just hoped she was still feeling chatty, because now he was ready to talk. And he intended to make her listen.

* * *

Juliet was sitting cross-legged on her bed, sketch pad on her lap. She’d begun with the intention of doing a bit more work on the new handbag sketches she’d started up at the lake house, but instead all of her doodles seemed to turn into baby bonnets and booties.