I’m as horny as a teenage boy, I want to tell him, but I keep that little tidbit to myself, and deflect, “Nope. Nothing else.”
His eyes narrow in suspicion as if he can read my mind, but he doesn’t comment. “Alright. If anything else comes up, just let me know. Let’s check that heartbeat, and then you’ll be good to go. You don’t need to change into a gown. Just lay back and lift up your shirt.”
Lying back, I raise my rose-colored shirt past my belly button, then Dr. Bennett squirts some more pink goop onto my lower stomach and presses the doppler wand against me.
The same overwhelming awe encompasses the room as the baby's heartbeat flutters in the space for a minute or so. My mouth tilts up in the corner as I soak up the moment, wishing I could share it with Anthony and Sway, but they can’t fly to Sunnyville for every appointment. It’s simply not logical, so I’ll be left giving them updates over the phone. They’ll probably come down for the gender reveal, and they’ll definitely be here for the birth. But other than that, they have their lives in New Hampshire. And I have my life here.
“Does that ever lose its awesomeness, Dr. Bennett?” I ask, still feeling the high from experiencing the baby's heartbeat.
“Call me Ben. And honestly? No, it never loses its…awesomeness.” He delivers my completely idiotic term with a wink before adding, “Everything has to line up perfectly for a healthy baby to be born. Every chromosome. Every hormone. All of it. If this job has taught me anything, it’s that every single baby is an absolute miracle, and I love being able to experience it over and over again.”
“It must be draining, though. Don’t you get calls in the middle of the night for deliveries and things like that?”
He shrugs off my concern. “I’ve never been much of a sleeper anyway.”
“I like how you say that. As if the hospital calling you at odd hours in the middle of the night is doing you a favor.”
“My job is my life. And honestly? The nights can be a bit lonely, and I’m a sucker for a distraction. Besides, babies are one of the best distractions I can ask for.”
Tucking my hair behind my ear, I tease, “One of the best distractions?”
His laughter does weird things to my insides, but I refuse to acknowledge them as he hedges, “There are others….”
“Like what?”
I don’t know what kind of game we’re playing right now. I have no freaking clue. But I don’t want to stop. And I don’t want the little bubble I’ve found myself in to pop either.
He smirks, and his gaze heats until I’m practically a puddle in front of him as the air crackles around us like an electric current searching for a place to strike.
I blame the hormones. And the profile picture of him without his shirt on. And the fact that I know what his fingers feel like inside of me. Even if it was in the most clinical way possible, it still doesn’t stop me from squirming at the memory, making the stupid paper beneath my ass crinkle in protest.
The sound is enough to pop the damn bubble I’d found us in, causing the electric current to disappear as the door shakes with another knock. Both of us snap in its direction. Handle twisting, it opens, and Tracey’s head pops through the crack.
“Hey. We have Ms. Woods in room two, who has been having contractions consistently for a few hours. She wanted you to check her before she headed to the hospital.”
“I’ll be right there,” Dr. Bennett answers stiffly.
The door closes with a soft click, blanketing us in silence before he breaks it. “Duty calls. I’ll see you next month.”
“Yup. Thanks, Dr. Bennett. I’ll see you then.”
“Call me Ben,” he orders for a second time with a playful, albeit crooked smile.
“Thanks…Ben.”
“Much better.” He leaves to check on Ms. Woods while I replay our conversation and come to a very real conclusion.
Marcy, you need to get laid.
4
Marcy
My hair is still damp from the shower and hangs limply around my shoulders as the fog on the mirror slowly starts to dissipate. Running my fingers through it one more time, I head to my nightstand and check the time on the clock. Two in the morning. I should be sleeping, but I can’t get my brain to turn off. Face scrunching in annoyance, I stare at my computer, where I know I have three separate photo shoots that need to be edited, but I’m not in the mood. Instead, I slip beneath my comforter and grab my phone before opening the stupid B&B app to stare at my doctor in a swimsuit.
Because ya know, that’s healthy.
And they say men objectify women. I snort. I’m totally objectifying Ben. I’m objectifying him hard. But it’s not just his body I’m attracted to. And I think that’s the problem. He’s smart. Wealthy. Funny.
Gah!
I drop my arm back to the mattress and squeeze my eyes shut as a little voice inside my head tells me this is a terrible idea for the billionth time today.
With a huff, I unlock my phone again and open the B&B app before going to the saved profiles section.
My brows furrow when a notification pops up.
DRBen918 would like to contact you.
Convinced I read the message wrong, my eyes scan it ten more times.
Ben? As in…Dr. Bennett? The Dr. Bennett? I gulp before opening the message, my heart pounding against my ribcage.
DRBen918: I really hope this is the right Marcy123Marcy.
I grin before typing a reply.
Marcy123Marcy: And if it isn’t?
His response is almost instant.
DRBen918: Then that would be awfully embarrassing. Your pictures are blocked, so I wasn’t able to confirm my guess without possibly looking like an idiot so….
Marcy123Marcy: I have my profile set to private.
DRBen918: Why?
Marcy123Marcy: Maybe I want a guy to want me for more than my bod.
DRBen918: Good point. But you might be looking in the wrong place if you’re searching for a real connection on the B&B app….
Marcy123Marcy: Says the guy with an image of him in a swimsuit, and a giant “not looking for anything serious” disclaimer in his profile. OF COURSE, booty calls are all you’re gonna find on here.
DRBen918: So you checked out my profile, eh? Good to know. And you make a good point. Again. I knew you had brains to go with that pretty face.
Marcy123Marcy: Careful, Ben. You’re makin’ me blush over here.
DrBen918: I’ve seen that blush before. It makes your freckles pop.
Sure enough, my face is blazing at his compliment, but I try to shrug it off.
Marcy123Marcy: Who are you, and what have you done with the professional doctor I’m used to seeing at my monthly appointments?
DrBen918: Unfortunately, he’s clocked out for the evening. But if you’d prefer to only deal with him, I can stop messaging you, and we can pretend I didn’t make a fool out of myself tonight.