Total pages in book: 90
Estimated words: 85274 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 426(@200wpm)___ 341(@250wpm)___ 284(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 85274 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 426(@200wpm)___ 341(@250wpm)___ 284(@300wpm)
When she finishes telling me the premise of the movie, I click play, and that’s how we spend our evening—watching two teens from different worlds fall in love while they fight for their futures. Occasionally, I glance at Ellie as she watches the movie. She laughs and cries, and when the couple manages to work through their shit, she clutches her chest, making me realize just how much of a romantic Ellie really is. Which means, I need to tap into that romantic side of her if I have any hope of ever winning over her heart.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
ELLIE
“How does it feel to be halfway there?”
I glance over at Dr. Peterson, reluctantly prying my eyes away from the monitor displaying my son. Normally, ultrasounds aren’t done at every appointment, but when you fall and put yourself and your child at risk, you get to see your baby more often. I’d prefer for my son not to be at risk, but I do love to see him swimming around in my belly.
“I feel like the pregnancy is both flying by and moving along at a snail’s pace.”
The doctor laughs, and Lincoln chuckles.
“I’ve started to feel him fluttering around.” Ever since I felt him that day on the couch when Lincoln and I were getting ready to watch a movie and discussing baby names, I’ve felt it more often.
“Soon you’ll be able to feel him from the outside,” the doctor says with a soft smile.
She spends the next several minutes going over everything with us, as well as running tests that are required at this stage in my pregnancy. Thankfully, the baby is perfect and shows no signs of distress from the fall I took. All the measurements are on par with how far along I am, and, according to Lincoln, the baby is now the size of a papaya.
When the doctor’s done, she gives us a printout and then moves on to my blood pressure. “Based on your charting, your BP seems to have improved slightly. I would like for it to be a little lower, but the fact that it hasn’t gone up is a good sign.”
“Does that mean I can resume normal activities?”
“It does...However, due to your fall, I would still like for you to take it easy.”
“Oh, that’s a given,” Lincoln murmurs from next to me, prompting me to look at him. When I raise a questioning brow, he shrugs. “Between the anemia, high blood pressure, and the fall, I’m considering wrapping your pregnant behind up in bubble wrap.”
I bark out a laugh, but Lincoln doesn’t join in. “I’m serious, El. You need to relax. I caught you on your hands and knees cleaning the bathroom, for God’s sake.”
“Well, in my defense, your cleaning lady isn’t good.” And I was also avoiding Lincoln, something I’d been doing since I woke up the morning after he told me he loved me. That is, until he cornered me with the promise of my favorite movie and yummy pizza, causing me to cave way too easily.
One part of me wants to believe him, throw caution to the wind and tell him I love him back. But the other part of me is afraid that if I give in too quickly, I’ll appear weak. Like my mother. She let her emotions steer her actions—and look where that got her...Six feet under, after spending her life drugged up with her legs spread for a man who showed her how much he loved her by pimping her out.
Okay, obviously, her life was a bit darker than mine, but she did go from being a talented dancer to a prostitute. Decisions were made, and I’ll be damned if I make any decision that can lead me down the same road my mom took. Which means I need to make sure Lincoln means what he says when he tells me he loves me and wants a future with me.
“She’s been let go, and a new one has been hired,” he says, snapping me out of my thoughts. “The new person is at the house cleaning as we speak.”
Dr. Peterson chuckles. “Any plans for the Fourth of July?”
“What?” I ask, doing the math in my head. Holy shit, I didn’t realize we were already into July. I’m about to tell her that I have no plans, but before I can get the words out, Lincoln speaks first.
“We’re going away.”
I whip my head around to look at him, and he shoots me a wink that has my legs clenching. I might be reluctant to believe he wants a future with me, but my body still craves his touch.
After wishing us a good holiday and saying she’ll see us next month, the doctor walks us to the check-out desk where I schedule my next appointment. We then head for home, with my assigned bodyguard, Oscar, trailing closely behind.