Chapter 8

KENTON

AFTER CLOCKING out at the end of my shift, I drove home, showered, and changed my clothes preparing to catch a few hours of sleep before I headed to Priscilla's after her shift. Yet as I laid my head on the pillow, sleep didn't happen. Something was nagging at me, and after a quick call to the hospital I heard about the car accident and code blue.

Priscilla might have appeared to be a big hard-to-shake doctor, but I'd seen the softer side of her. Every life lost rattled her. When she finished up in the ER, she would be alone and hurting. I wanted to be there to help her if she wanted someone to talk with at the end of the night.

I hadn't expected the extra surprise in the supply closet. Not that I'd complain about such a thing. I'd take that as a prize any day, but it wasn't why I had gone there. I needed to be the loving support system she needed.

That's why when I left to go home, I found myself at her house, letting myself in with the spare key she'd left out the other day. Long shifts at the hospital were hard and losing people even harder. The emotions wreaked havoc on your mind regardless how much ability a professional had in the field.

At first I'd set myself up at her kitchen island with only one light on, but after a few minutes I realized it made me look like a serial killer. The rest of the house was in darkness and one fixture illuminated where I sat. Not the best way for her to come home. After that I turned on all the lights in the first floor so she would at least realize someone wasn't breaking into her home in advance.

"Kenton," she called, opening her front door.

I stood up from the stool where I'd been relaxing. "In here."

Priscilla and I met in the foyer-me with an outstretched hand holding the brown paper sack with a goodie. I opted out of the hot chocolate because it was late at night and I wasn't sure when she'd make it here. When you work in the hospital and do rotating shifts, your body's clock has a tendency to demand weird food at certain hours. Like eggs at 6 p.m. or a cheeseburger in the morning. I figured a muffin worked at any time.

She smiled and took the bag from my fingers as if she didn't want to admit how much the small gesture meant to her. Then, when I wasn't expecting it, Priscilla circled her arms around my waist and hugged me, resting her head on my shoulder.

"Thank you for being there." She held on for another few seconds and I squeezed her tightly. Her clothes reeked of sterile hospital and too much hand sanitizer.

"Anything. I would do it all over again for you."

She stepped back her eyes watery. "You mean that?"

I thought I'd made it clear how I felt earlier, but it seemed she needed more coaxing. "More than anything, Priscilla." Why couldn't she see that? She was the big tough doctor, but I guess self-esteem issues hit everyone.

Priscilla opened the bag and took her muffin to the couch, sitting down on the soft cushions. "You plan to stick around for the baby? Even if I get crazy pregnant and fat and I yell at you a lot?"

Something about the way she said "yell at me a lot" gave the impression she considered this a warning. "Yes, I want to be here for every moment of your pregnancy and delivery. I'm in this for the rest of our children's lives."

"Children? I'm thirty-six. Depending on how long it takes to get pregnant this time, I won't have many childbearing years left."

I rolled my eyes and peeled off a piece of muffin, putting in her mouth. "Women have children well into their forties now, but it's up to you. One baby or ten-it doesn't matter to me." Although it did a little. Two would be a good number. And she could have two children. If she started talking any number over six, we'd have to have another talk.

I would love a hundred children, but we would need a huge house and multiple vehicles. The logistics of it didn't work out. I wasn't a Sultan with fifty Priscillas, so I didn't see how it could become an issue, anyway.

"I'm just worried because I've seen the other ladies get pregnant and they all go crazy at one point. Melinda from labor and delivery ate three bean burritos a day. Can you imagine?"

Her poor husband, I thought, but was smart enough not to say out loud. "I'm sure her husband didn't care at all."

"They divorced when the baby was six months old."

Oh.

"Pris, trust me. It doesn't matter what happens. I'll never leave your side." I'd make sure and keep muffin delivery on speed dial.

She sighed as if she was settling into the idea and I decided it was time to seal the deal.

"I love you, Priscilla, and I want us to be together. I don't care if you ever get pregnant." Her shocked face let me know she found the prospect of not having a baby horrid. "I hope you do, but if something happens, I still want you. Positive pregnancy test or not doesn't matter. I'll be right here."

"I," her face softened. "Kenton, I love you too."

I chuckled once. "Damn wish I had bought the ring." It would have been a great time to pop the question.

She shook her head. "No, it's too soon for that."

"Definitely before the baby comes though. Yes?"

She nodded in acceptance.

"It happened so fast between us, but it's true. I've waited for the day when you would look at me as someone to spend your life with, Priscilla. I don't plan to go about mucking it up now."

She smiled, and I opened my mouth to keep going, but she placed a finger over my lips, silencing me. "Shut up and kiss me, Kenton."

If her demands were always so easy to follow, she'd get whatever she wanted for the rest of her life. I pulled her on top of me as she straddled my hips while lying on the couch. Her fingers roamed over my chest. Before I had time to tell her that wasn't what this was about, the muffin rolled to the floor and I settled between her thighs. One way or another we were having a baby.