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on the far wall of the room. “And if you look before I tell you to, you’ll turn into a pillar of salt.”

Jackie grinned while Cole arched his brows high but complied. Only then did she lift her purse over her head, slip out of her shoes and step on the scale.

“Every little bit helps,” she explained to the nurse, who sagely nodded her head. Of course she understood. She was a woman.

Then Sydney sighed at the scale’s digital reading. She couldn’t decide if that was baby weight or those fresh glazed doughnuts from Mimi’s Café that she’d become addicted to since returning home. She swore the owner slid crack up in there. Nothing else could explain her obsession with them.

“You can turn around now,” she said to Cole as she stepped off the offending piece of equipment and into her sandals.

He returned to her side as she perched on the paper-covered examination table. Moments later, Jackie finished taking Sydney’s temperature, blood pressure and heart rate, recording everything into a handheld tablet.

“Dr. Prioleau will be with you in just a few minutes,” Jackie said, smiling before leaving the room and closing the door behind her.

“Is it weird that I’m nervous?” she whispered, as if the butter-yellow walls were the stained glass of a church instead of a doctor’s office. “I mean, this isn’t my first appointment. Not the first time I’ll hear the baby’s heartbeat. I should be excited, right? Not feeling like I’m about to dive off a cliff with only a questionably stable cord preventing me from plunging to my death.”

“Wow. That’s specific...and graphic.”

She met the teasing light in Cole’s amber eyes. “It’s a side effect of this pregnancy. I cry at the drop of a hat, pee when I cough, have an unhealthy relationship with fried dough and have a scarily vivid imagination.”

He smiled, and his arm rose from his side, his hand hovering between them for a second before he reached for her, cupping the back of her neck. He gently squeezed, and she briefly closed her eyes, accepting and savoring the comfort he offered.

“So, I’ll need to have tissue, diapers and doughnuts handy whenever I’m around you. Good to know.”

A snicker slipped out of her. Then, she shook her head and whispered, “Thank you, Cole.”

He didn’t ask for what. Didn’t ask her to explain. Which was good because she couldn’t have articulated the answer. Instead, he tenderly squeezed her neck again and dropped his hand away from her. “You’re welcome.”

The door opened, preventing anything else she would say—or not say. Dr. Prioleau entered, smiling wide. Today, she wore a dark berry lipstick along with a deep purple sheath dress and nude pumps. The woman had style, and Sydney really needed to have a side conversation about what conditioner the doctor used to keep her twists so shiny.

“Hi, Sydney, it’s great to see you again,” Dr. Prioleau greeted. “You, too, Cole.” She shook first Sydney’s hand then Cole’s. “Your vitals are perfect,” she said, then tapped on her tablet and studied the screen. “Weight gain is on target. Everything looks good.” She set her tablet down on the counter and stepped over to the sink and washed her hands. “Today, we’re going to do a sonogram so I can have a look at your uterus and ovaries and check the baby’s growth. And if you haven’t changed your mind, we’ll see if he or she will be cooperative and let us see if you’re having a boy or girl.”

Sydney inhaled a breath and slowly exhaled it. “I’m ready.”

“Great.” The doctor grabbed a paper towel and dried her hands. “Let’s get started. Can you lie back and lift your shirt for me? I want to measure the baby’s growth. And then we’ll listen to the heartbeat.”

A second of indecision and misplaced modesty struck Sydney as the doctor dipped her hand in her coat pocket and withdrew a tape measure. Which was silly. The first thing she’d learned to let go of since finding out she was pregnant was modesty. Someone was always exposing her stomach, touching it or inserting things inside her vagina. Yeah, Daniel hadn’t seen as much of her sex as her doctor and nurse had. But still...

She slid a sidelong glance at Cole, who’d stood by silently so far. Not like it would be the first time he’d seen a pregnant woman’s stomach, but not hers. And then there was the fact that most likely the last time had been his wife’s. His intentions to accompany her so she wouldn’t be alone were admirable, but faced with the reality of this, could he bear it?

“Sydney?” Dr. Prioleau asked, her concern etched in her slight frown. “Is everything all right?”

“Yes, I’m fine. Just a little slow today. Decaf coffee should be outlawed and then run outta town for being a dirty little tease,” Sydney muttered, unhooking the top of her overalls and hiking up her tank top while the doctor chuckled.

The cool air brushed over her skin, and she looked down her torso to her bump. With efficient and quick movements, the doctor set the tape at the top of her pubic bone and stretched it over her belly to just under her breasts.

“Twenty centimeters,” the other woman said, tucking the tape measure back in her pocket then recording the note on her tablet. “Good size.”

Once more Sydney glanced over at Cole. He wore the same stoic expression, his thick, dark lashes hiding his eyes from her. But she didn’t need to see his gaze to guess how this was affecting him. The tense line of his jaw, the firm press of his lips, the fisting of his fingers—they all telegraphed the emotion roiling inside him.

“Cole.” She waited until his scrutiny flicked toward her. “You okay?”

Her hand ached to wrap around his, to anchor him just as he insisted on being here today. Instead, she curled her hands into the paper-covered table beneath her.

“Yes,” he replied, the answer short, but then his tone softened. “Don’t

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