The Rocker Who Savors Me (The Rocker 2) - Page 36

To my surprise, Nik crawled in behind me and pulled my back against his chest. My heart filled with love, and I fought the urge to cry happy tears. “Don’t you have to be at the studio soon?”

He kissed my neck, making me shiver. My nipples instantly hardened but we both knew that there wasn’t going to be any action. I hated it, but it hurt to make love lately. Nik understood and never complained about it. “Not going in until later. Screw them. I want to hold you for a little while.”

One big hand skimmed over my expanded stomach, played with the protruding belly button that had popped out about a month ago, and then settled low where our baby liked to punch me. That little girl was silent this morning, but all too soon she would be using me as her personal punching bag.

Tired, content to be in my love’s arms, I pushed all the things that were on my mind to the back and let sleep take me…

Sometime later, I felt Nik leave me. He brushed a tender kiss across my cheek then another across my exposed stomach. I sighed happily and buried my face in my pillow. “Love you, baby,” he whispered.

“Love you.”

I fell back into a dreamless sleep and didn’t wake up again until midmorning. I hadn’t been sleeping well lately. Restless legs, aching hips, and just an all-around uncomfortable feeling had made me an insomniac. Last night was the first good sleep I had had in what felt like forever, but I was still feeling exhausted when I climbed out of bed and tossed on a pair of yoga pants and one of Nik’s old shirts.

I couldn’t care less how I looked. My hair was a mess, and I didn’t even bother to brush it as I pulled it into a sloppy bun. My feet were swollen, and it hurt to walk down the stairs, but I had things to do that couldn’t wait.

From the kitchen, I could smell bacon frying, but for once the smell didn’t make my mouth water. In fact, I felt sick and had to hold my breath as I passed the kitchen on my way to my office. “I’m not hungry, Layla,” I called to her.

I heard her moving around, and a few moments later she appeared in my office doorway. She wore a concerned expression as she looked me over. “You look green, Emmie. Call your doctor.”

A small smile teased my lips, and I was ever thankful that whatever god had sent this woman to me had. In just a few weeks, I had developed a bond with Layla. For the first time in my life I had a female friend, and I actually liked it. “I will, but first I have to take care of a few things.”

Layla raised a brow. Crossing her arms over her generous chest, she leaned against the door jamb of my office and looked as if she wasn’t going to budge anytime soon. “I think you should call them now.”

I sighed and picked up my cellphone. After scrolling through my contacts, I pressed connect and waited for Dr. Chesterfield’s nurse to answer. When she did, I told her I wasn’t feeling well and the woman asked me to come in. Sighing, I took a quick peek at the clock. It was after eleven. There was so much to do and all the guys were at the studio.

Biting my lip, I glanced at Layla. “Can you drive me to my doctor? They want me to come in, but I can’t drive.” My stomach had gotten so big that I couldn’t steer a vehicle without hurting myself.

Layla smiled. “Sure.”

I stood with difficulty and grabbed the keys to Shane’s car, along with my purse and phone. Really, I was going to have to make Nik buy another SUV. Shane’s car was pretty to look at, and a dream to drive, but not all that safe to be in. Crazy how I worried about car safety now when it had never even crossed my mind before I had found out I was pregnant.

Thirty minutes later, I was being poked and prodded by the misogynist doctor that was supposed to be the best in all of California. Alexis Moreitti had recommended him to me. I trusted her judgment when it came to who was taking care of her baby, so I had started seeing him too, but when he had his fingers inside of me, moving them around like he was now, I really hated the prick.

At my head Layla gave my hand a little squeeze in support, and I squeezed back, thankful to have her there with me. After a moment, the doctor stepped back and pulled off his gloves. Turning, he began washing his hands. “You are dilated to a two,” he informed me.

I raised a brow. “What does that mean?” I knew that when a woman was dilated to a ten then it was time to push the baby out. “Isn’t it too soon to be dilating?” It was wasn’t even the middle of September. I still had seven weeks to go before my baby was due.

Dr. Chesterfield gave me a reassuring smile. “Some women can go months dilated at two or even three. This is perfectly normal. All the discomfort you are feeling is normal. Your nausea isn’t so much, but I can give you something to ease that which won’t hurt the baby.” He pulled a prescription pad from his coat pocket and started scribbling. “Take it easy for a few days, Emmie. Stay off your feet as much as possible and don’t put yourself in any stressful situations. I want to see you again next week. Bring Nik too, because we need to set a date to do your C-section.”

“Great.” I muttered, taking the prescription from him.

Layla gave my shoulder a little squeeze, and I put my hand over hers. The doctor gave her a meaningful look. “Make sure she takes it easy. Have those guys of hers tie her to the bed for a few days if you have to.”

Layla nodded. “Of course,” she assured him. “I’ll do it myself if I have to.”

Chapter 14

Layla

When we got home, I was quick to get Emmie up to her room. She didn’t protest much, probably because along with the nausea prescription, he had also given her a shot as a precaution. The shot, some kind of strong anti-nausea medication, was making her sleepy. The doctor didn’t want to chance Emmie getting dehydrated should she start throwing up.

As soon as I got her to her room, I helped her change into pajamas. I tucked her into bed like a child. She rested her head back on her pillow and pulled her body pillow closer. “I think I owe you a bonus, Layla. Your job description doesn’t cover taking care of the sick pregnant woman.”

Her words upset me, and I had to blink back a few tears. “If you even dare pay me for this, I will shove the check down your pretty little throat,” I told her.

Emmie blinked up at me, surprised at my quivering voice. “Layla…”

“You pay me to clean this house. I’m taking care of you because you’re my friend and I care about you. Don’t you ever say anything like that again.”

Her hand grasped mine, and I noticed that her fingers were ice cold. “Layla, I’m sorry. It was a joke.” Tears filled her eyes and spilled over. “Thank you for taking care of me today. No one, other than the guys, has ever cared enough to take care of me—to be there holding my hand, the way that you have today.”

Tags: Terri Anne Browning The Rocker
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