I have to say a quick thank you for those of you following my tale. Make sure you stop back here to read the rest of contributors. This week's prompt was the word "CHEST". With that being said, lets resume where our story left off....
Missed the previous parts? Click HERE
Missed the previous parts? Click HERE
"With This Heart: Part Eight"
When Paisley pulled free of his embrace, Kaleb wanted to scream, to yell, or even pound his chest at the interruption. He’d been given a glimpse of heaven to only have it ripped away by a nosy doctor. Mumbling a cuss word or two under his breath, he turned and unlocked the door, determined to brazen it out. He couldn’t – no, he wouldn’t let this little setback cost him everything.
The doctor, a well-dressed black woman in a lab coat stepped inside the exam room, concern written all over her face. Shutting the door behind her, she approached the exam table. “Is everything okay in here, Paisley? Your visitor didn’t…upset you did he? If so, I can ask him to leave – this is a very delicate time for you.”
Kaleb forced his hands to relax as Paisley stared at him, her expression unreadable. She looked so lost sitting on the exam table wearing nothing more than a hospital gown. When she looked away, his stomach sank. She was going to have him thrown out. “Please, sweetheart.”
“I…he’s not…” She tugged on her the folds of her gown before finally meeting his eyes. “He’s the father.”
The doctor looked over the top of her glasses at first Paisley and then him. “I see.” She tucked the folder under her arm and held her hand out to him. “Fresh back from the war, Son?” Kaleb nodded dumbfounded as she shook his hand. “Then I do believe there is quite a bit to catch you up on.” She gave him a sly grin. “And I bet you’d love to hear the baby’s heartbeat wouldn’t you.”
He nodded, dumbfounded.
“Well then, let's check you out, Ms. Paisley. Assume the position.” Dr. Evanston smiled and coaxed his girl onto her back. With a practiced move, she flipped up the gown, exposing her swollen belly. Moving to stand beside her, Kaleb took her hand - taking it as a sign of progress when she didn't jerk away.
* * * *
Letting Kaleb unlock her apartment door was much more challenging than Paisley thought it would be. It was like a horrible case of Déjà vu – he’d done the same thing at the end of each date and she wasn’t equipped to handle it. Her emotions were still raw from his unexpected appearance, but in all reality she knew she couldn’t cut him out of their son or daughter’s life. His reaction to hearing the baby’s heartbeat told her that. His eyes welled up and she actually thought he might cry as he held her hand while the doctor rubbed the wand thru the warm gel smeared all over her stomach. Her child deserved to know Kaleb, whether she ended up taking him back or not. The least she could do was hear him out.
Passing him, she set her purse on the stand next to the door before slipping her flats off. Without saying much she headed towards the kitchen. “Are you thirsty? I’m going to make some tea.” She moved towards the small gas stove, reaching for the chipped teapot her mother had given her. Behind her she could feel him watching her every move as she filled the teapot from the sink. Setting it on the stove, she turned the burner on. When the stubborn pilot refused to light, she sighed. Opening the cupboard of the stove she was reaching for the box of matches when he stopped her.
“Let me.” His breath teased her ear as he crowded close. “I remember how you like it…”
Her breath caught at the familiar words. He’d whispered them during their frantic coupling as they’d stood under the shower. After exploring her body for hours during the night, he had known exactly how she liked it – every touch and kiss that drove her out of her mind. She still remembered the feel of the water pounding down around them as he’d pinned her to the wall, their bodies moving wildly against one another as their time wound down and he’d have to leave. Perhaps it was even when our child was conceived. She’d been so desperate for another memory she’d forgotten about protection until he’d jerked back, spilling his seed against the wet flesh of her stomach. Withdrawal was risky – or so she’d been told.
Her eyes met his. The deep chocolate depths turned smoky as he seemed to realize the direction of her thoughts. He stepped closer, his hand cupping her chin, lifting her mouth for his kiss. She leaned closer and…the smell of gas broke the sensual hold he had on her.
“The tea,” she whispered, reminding him of the unlit stove.
“Oh, yeah.” He released her, turning and shutting the stove off. He braced his arms against the chipped enamel – desire evident by the tension in his back. “Irish breakfast tea, right? In the canister?” His voice sounded shaky as he nodded to the metal canister sitting on the counter She dug her fingers into her palms desperately in an attempt to keep from wrapping around herself around his tall body and begging him to kiss her, to hold her. They had too many issues to resolve before she could fall back into his arms. She had to remember that.
“I…yeah…Irish Breakfast is fine.” She moved back quickly – waddling into the living room as fast as her pregnant body would carry her. She had to get a grip on herself – at least until she got a full explanation from him
TO BE CONTINUED...