Finally. The day of the scan. Jax arrives before me, and I find him sitting in the waiting room, leading through a home magazine.
Looking like a fucking model.
He seems tired, but greets me with a wide smile, scooting over so I can sit with him.
We make idle chit chat, and it’s clear we are both nervous.
The sonographer that calls us in does a double take at us, and we exchange a puzzled look.
“What was that?” I whisper, as Jax shrugs his shoulders. He’s strangely quiet today, but he’s here. That’s all that matters.
Maybe she can’t believe he’s with me.
Newsflash doc—he isn’t.
“Dunno,” he mutters back, holding the door open, allowing me to go into the room first.
Brushing past him, my senses are tantalised by his heavenly scent. This being pregnant has me in a constant state of arousal, I swear.
Jax Cohen doesn’t make it any easier, especially in his work attire.
Suits kill me. Jax in a suit kills me twice.
“Okay, Mrs Summers,” says the sonographer.
“Miss,” I correct her, and she gives me that look, the one that tells me she doesn’t give a fuck what my title is, she’s just being polite.
“My apologies. Miss Summers, could you please get onto the bed and make yourself comfortable? You’ll just need to tuck this tissue paper into your waistband to protect your clothing, and scoot your top up.”
Jax watches me from the chair he’s slumped in, rubbing his temples as he does. He seems in a bad mood, and I can’t help but wonder why. I do as I’m told, and drum my fingers on the bed beneath me.
I’m about to see my child.
The woman flicks a switch on a small screen, before squirting cold gel onto my stomach. I hiss slightly, and she simply ignores me, pushing a rolling probe over my stomach.
Man, I need to pee.
“Okay,” she sighs as I stare at the screen, my heart thumping in my chest.
The image is grainy, and I can’t see anything that resembles a baby. I panic, wondering if I’m not pregnant after all, and—
“There’s your baby,” the woman finally smiles, tapping her finger on the screen as she clicks away on a keypad, zooming in to make it clearer.
“Can you see that?”
Her words seem too far away, and I feel someone grip my hand.
“Jolie,” a gruff voice says, whilst the woman presses a tissue into my hand. “It’s okay.”
I’m sobbing. I’ve got absolutely no idea why, but I am. The tiny shape on the screen seems so helpless and tiny, and I can’t take my eyes off it. I grip the hand back, my head spinning. I don’t even lift the tissue up to wipe my eyes.
“Everything seems great, your baby is healthy. I’ll pop some notes into your file, but your due date is approximately May twenty-fourth.”
“No way,” Jax breathes, and I finally realise he’s the one gripping my hand. His breath fans my cheek when I turn to gaze at him, and he shakes his head. “That’s my mum’s birthday.”
I say nothing, but turn back to see the screen flicker and die beneath the woman’s hands. She hands me some tissues, and prints off the scan.
“You’ll get a letter for your next scan, it’s usually at sixteen weeks.”
“So everything is ok?” I ask, cleaning my stomach.
“Yes, everything is fine.”
The woman leaves the room, allowing us some privacy.
“Are you alright? You went a little pale there,” Jax murmurs, stroking my cheek.
I close my eyes, allowing his reassurance to wash over me.
“I’m good, I’m happy now I’ve seen the baby.”
“I’m glad it’s not twins,” Jax laughs, and I roll my eyes.
“Please, don’t even joke.”
I tug my top down, and sit up. Jax hands me the scan images, and I stare at the image again in awe.
“How is that inside of me?” I whisper, as Jax remains silent. “How can I love something so much already? I don’t even know you.” I’m addressing the scan image, and I’m lost, overcome with emotion.
“You’re crying again,” Jax sighs, handing me more tissue.
“Sorry,” I say, hastily wiping my eyes.
When I stand, Jax guides me towards the exit, smiling at the sonographer who is waiting outside.
“No problem,” she beams, and I can’t help but shake my head in disbelief.
Hello, I am here. The woman carrying his child.
We walk past couples sitting grinning at each other, their hands clasping together and their eyes bright.
Bliss. Perfection. The perfect family.
Jax seems lost in his own thoughts, but I’m glad he’s there. When we get outside he runs his hand through his hair, turning towards me.
Breathe, Jolie. So he’s physical perfection. You’ll thank him when your child is a supermodel.
“What have you got planned for the rest of your day?” He asks, but he doesn’t seem interested. His mind seems elsewhere.
“I’m meeting a friend,” I say, my cheeks flushing.
Technically true. Chris is a friend.
“Great. Well, I’m going back to the office,” Jax says abruptly, glancing around the car park. “Will you be okay?”
“Yeah. Um, do you want a scan photo?” I ask shyly, and his face breaks into a smile.
“Yeah, I would.”
I hand one to him and he gazes down at it, shaking his head. His hair falls into his eyes as he smiles, his thumb caressing the image lightly.
“Pretty amazing, huh?”
“Yeah,” I agree, and we exchange a smile.
“You’re doing really well you know,” Jax says, reaching out to rub my arm. “If you need anything, just ask.”
I suppose a fuck is out of the question?
Oh, my God. Jolie! You have to have a relationship with this man for the rest of your life.
You can’t fuck this up with your horny ass self.
“Liposuction after this, probably,” I joke, and he rolls his eyes.
Why is he so manly? The muscles straining through his white shirt are killing me. Why are his sleeves rolled up, revealing his tattoos and veiny forearms?
Drunken Jolie really does know how to pick ‘um.
“You won’t need that,” he chuckles, his tongue wetting his lips as he sighs.
Maybe I should just suggest it. I’m sure he won’t mind—
“Thanks for coming,” I blurt out, in a desperate attempt to silence my mind. He lifts his eyebrows in surprise.
His eyes still manage to turn me to mush, and now is no exception.
“Jolie, it’s my child. I wouldn’t miss this for the world. Thank you for asking me to come.”
He moves closer to me to allow someone to walk by him, and for a brief moment I’m looking up at him, losing myself in his gaze.
It’s hormones. Just hormones.
“Jax…” I mumble, my hand reaching up to stroke his cheek, the faint stubble stimulating my senses as I do.
His eyes trail down to my lips, and for a second I’m sure he’s going to kiss me. But then he surprises me by stepping back, lifting my hand to his lips and brushing them over it lightly.
“I’ve got to go,” he says, shooting me an apologetic smile before turning away.
My hand drops to my side, and I stare after him in bewilderment.
What is with him today?
I turn on my heel, heading towards my car with tears stinging my eyes.
What did I expect?
Why would someone like Jax be interested in some woman he got knocked up after a one night fling?
So we’re going to be parents together. That doesn’t mean we automatically fall in love.
I walk towards my car, my tears blinding me.
I’m sorry little baby. I’m sorry that you’ve not got the perfect family. But we both love you. That’s all that matters.
I’m also sorry that your mum wants to jump the bones of any man that will give me the time of day. It’s my hormones.
Driving out of the hospital, I notice Jax’s truck in the right lane ahead of me. His fingers were drumming on the steering wheel, his jaw clenched. He wore his sunglasses, but his expression is stony. I see his mouth moving, and I realise he must be talking on the phone.
The traffic lights change colour, and he’s gone.
A horn blasts from somewhere behind me, and I jump, stalling the car.
I apologise to the driver by putting my hand up, restarting the car before driving off.
I need to get a grip. My hormones are driving me crazy.
Maybe seeing Chris tonight would be exactly what I need.