Page 95 of The Logic of Loyalty

I read my name on his lips, and the moment our eyes connect, relief courses through me.

He rushes to us, holding the bag up like he has some kind of prize. “Hey—” He leans in and kisses me on the mouth in greeting, making both of us jolt at the connection. His eyes shoot wide open. “Oh, shit.” The nurse looks back at him, prompting another “Shit, sorry. Oh, dammit. I meant to say, I’m sorry, Miss Grace. When he smacks himself on the forehead, I can’t help but giggle at how flustered he is.

I’ll allow myself to think it’s kissing me that did it.

Grace harrumphs before turning a smile to me. “If you would follow me to the ultrasound room.” We both turn and follow her down the hall.”

“Did you already do the cup pee thing?” Trevor reaches into the bag and pulls out an individually wrapped wet wipe and offers it to me.

Another smile touches my lips. “I also washed my hands.”

He places it back into the bag. “Fair. Okay, are you suddenly in need of replenishing your lost fluids?” He pulls out my favorite flavor of electrolyte drink, Tangerine Orange.

“Oh, yes, please.” Instead of handing it over, he unscrews the cap and hands me the open drink. I roll my eyes at him, but immediately take a sip. “Mmm.” I love this drink.

His eyes follow my tongue as I swipe whatever remnants remain there. When his tongue follows a similar path on his lips, I panic and shove the drink back into his hand. I scurry after Grace into the room, where she’s finishing prepping the table. “The tech will be right in.” She turns from where she was fussing with the weird paper and immediately homes in on the drink in Trevor’s hand. “Mr. Whitaker. No drinks allowed in here.” She glares at him until he places it carefully back into his bag of tricks.

“Yes ma’am—er, Miss Grace.” I snicker, and they both give me differing looks. Trevor looks sheepish, and Miss Grace looks … I can’t read her expression. Trevor was always a favorite of hers, but she was my nurse for one of his missed visits. I think she made some of her own assumptions.

“Go ahead and take a seat, Paige.” Alex comes in behind her, face down, eyes on the clipboard. “I’m going to just—oh!” Her eyes go wide at the sight of my husband, standing there in his dress shirt, sleeves pushed up past his elbows, and top two buttons undone. He looks delicious with his hair a little longer and jostled just right. His electric blue eyes are warm when he holds his hand out to the stupefied woman.

“Hey, I’m Trevor. I’m the father. Paige’s husband.” He tags that last moniker in at the end with a brief, unsure glance at me.

“Oh, hello!” She shakes his hand with an extra pump. “Nice to see you. I’m glad you got time off for this appointment!”

“Yeah, me too.” He moves to stand closer to me next to the bed with the bag held in both his hands. His eyes drift over my body as I lie down on the crinkly bed and pull my shirt up, uncovering my belly. He sucks in a breath, his eyes squarely on my exposed bump. I pull my pants all the way down. I ignore the heat rising in my cheeks. I’m fully aware that I have not been keeping up with my business, and I have a feeling I may be showing some beav. I look over again, only to see that his penetrating gaze hasn’t wavered. I’ve already popped, and I’m amazed that people haven’t noticed my pregnancy by now.

I’m happily riding out the ignorance of others. I’ll start telling people when I want to, not before. They can keep calling me fat.

“You can sit in the seat next to her, Trevor.” He jerks his head to her and nods, moving like in a trance to the seat directly next to me. He pulls his phone from his back pocket and opens the camera.

“We’re not supposed to take pictures of the images.”

“Oh, right, right.” He closes the app and places the phone on his lap. His attention bounces around the room and lands on my exposed belly—screen, wall, machine, door, my face, my belly, his hands. He does the cycle in different orders, always stopping on our babies.

“So, we likely won’t get to see anything about gender, and⁠—”

Trevor’s phone rings, but he immediately silences it after a quick peek at the screen.

Glenn Calling

Glenn. That name is familiar, but I can’t figure out why.

“We are going to do some measurements today and see if we can capture some faces! How does that sound?” I nod absently, busy keeping an eye on Trevor’s face, searching for any sign of wanting to leave, but he’s staring while Alex squirts the warmed jelly on my belly. She presses the wand to my abdomen, and I watch as Trevor’s world tilts on its axis.

I know when they appear from the change in his expression.

He visibly softens in front of me. His eyes widen, grow suspiciously shiny. His mouth opens, as if he wants to say something, but he stops. He stops and stares in wonder at the image on the screen. I’m watching this man fall in love with our babies. Someday, I’ll tell them about this moment. Tell them how they had their father wrapped around their tiny fingers from the second he laid eyes on them.

His phone pings, breaking the spell we’re under. He looks at the text, but locks it.

“Who was that?”

He clears his throat before answering. “Just work. Nothing more important than this.”

Only, I read it too.

Glenn