The next morning, I wake to a room full of sunshine and a sexy man sitting half-naked in bed beside me, working on his laptop.

“I’m sorry, did I wake you?” he says, glancing down at me. “I was trying to be quiet.”

“No, you didn’t wake me.” I reach for my phone to check the time. “It’s nine already? Aren’t you going to work today?”

He raises one eyebrow at me. “Are you serious? Do you think I’d leave you here alone after what you went through yesterday? Cooper’s not home yet, and I don’t think he’s going to leave the hospital until Sam’s released. I’m not leaving you here alone.”

“Shane, I’m perfectly fine here at home.”

“I called Miguel this morning. He jumped at the chance to take over as your bodyguard until Sam’s back on duty. And I called your OB’s office. We have an appointment this afternoon at four o’clock for a check-up.”

“That was awfully fast. Wait... we have an appointment?”

“I can be very persuasive when I want to be. They squeezed us in. And yes, we have an appointment. I’m going with you.”

I stretch my limbs. “All right. Doctor’s appointment today, but I’m going back to work tomorrow. There’s too much going on at the store right now with the holidays approaching. I need to be there. Poor Erin will have a fit if I leave her alone for an entire week.”

“Let’s see what the doctor says this afternoon, all right? Then we’ll make a decision about you working.”

Good grief, women have been working through their pregnancies as long as humans have existed. I sit up and kiss the warm skin covering his beautifully sculpted bicep.

Now that I’m sitting up, I feel a wave of nausea sweep through me. “Oh, my gosh! I’ve been having morning sickness all along and didn’t realize it.” I jump out of bed and run for the bathroom.

* * *

Obviously, we’re spoiled rotten. Without Cooper here to cook breakfast for us, we’re staring stupidly at an empty gourmet kitchen.

“How about waffles?” I suggest. “All we need is a toaster, butter, and syrup.”

“Are you sure that’s enough nutrition for you? I mean, you’re pregnant. How about a salad instead?”

“For breakfast? Eww, no, thank you. I guess I should take cooking classes. If I’m going to be a mom, I need to learn how to cook. We can’t always rely on Cooper to feed us.”

“Okay, waffles it is then,” he says, opening the freezer door and pulling out a box of frozen Belgium waffles. “Do you know where Cooper keeps the maple syrup?”

I laugh. “In the fridge. I know that much, at least.”

“You toast the waffles, and I’ll make coffee,” Shane says. “Remind me to tell Cooper he’s never allowed to leave home again. Wait – are you even allowed to drink coffee? Won’t caffeine hurt the baby? Is decaf safe, do you think?”

I frown at the prospect of starting my day without coffee. “I honestly don’t know.”

“We should Google that,” he says, heading back to our bedroom to retrieve his laptop.

* * *

After eating our waffles, which were delicious if not very nutritious, and surfing the Internet for what I can and cannot consume now that I’m pregnant, I find out I’m allowed one cup of coffee per day, and that’s it. That’s going to take some getting used to. I usually have two to three cups per day.

“You can drink decaf,” Shane says, skimming a website on the do’s and don’ts of pregnancy.

“That’s easy for you to say. You’re not the one who has to give up caffeine.”

After breakfast, we call Cooper to check on Sam. He’s holding his own, but there’s not much change. He’s still being closely monitored for bleeding and pressure in his brain. Shane packs a bag for Cooper – clothes and toiletries – and has it couriered to the hospital.

For the rest of the morning and into the afternoon, we laze around the apartment, both of us fielding calls and texts from work. We make sandwiches and salads for lunch, then watch a movie in the great room.

“I could get used to this,” I say, cuddling with him.

His arms come around me, and he’s careful not to jar my sprained wrist. “Do you think it’s okay for us to have sex while you’re pregnant? The website said it was all right, but I wouldn’t want to risk hurting the baby.”

I roll my eyes at him. “Don’t worry. I’m pretty sure pregnant women are allowed to have sex.”

* * *

When our movie’s over, Shane disappears into his office for a while to follow up on some cases, and I go change my clothes and get ready for my OB appointment.

I can tell by the look on his face when he emerges from his office that he’s not happy. “What is it?”

He shakes his head. “I don’t want you worrying about anything.”

“Well, now I am worried, so tell me. Is it about me, about the accident? Because if it is, I have a right to know.”

He frowns. “Well, it sure as hell wasn’t an accident. I just had a conversation with Troy about the plea bargain Conroy’s attorney has presented to the prosecutor.”

I feel sick. I just can’t wrap my head around the idea that someone tried, on purpose, to run me over. “We don’t need a plea bargain,” I tell him. “We both know who was behind it.”

“Luciana. I know. But we need proof. I’m willing to offer Conroy some sort of deal, but I’m not willing to let him just walk away from an attempted murder charge.”

* * *

At four o’clock, we arrive at the office of my OB and are ushered directly into an examining room, which is not standard protocol. And it’s not a typical exam room either – this one has an ultrasound machine in it.

I have to admit it’s a little strange having Shane in the room with me. I’ve never had company at a gynecological exam before. Of course I’m glad he’s here. I’m glad he’s taking an active role in our pregnancy, but still, it’s a little weird having an audience.

The nurse instructs me to strip below the waist, and she hands me a paper sheet to cover up with. “Dr. Shaw will be with you shortly,” she says, and then she closes the door behind her on her way out.

Shane and I just stand there looking at each other for a moment, both of us a little nervous.

“I guess I’ll just sit here,” Shane says, taking one of the two visitor chairs. “Unless you need some help getting undressed?”

I can’t tell if he’s kidding or not, and I feel my cheeks heat with embarrassment. “No, that’s all right. You sit. Read a magazine. I can manage.”

Shane busies himself with checking messages on his phone while I quickly strip down and wrap the paper covering around me. Then I climb up onto the examining table to wait for Dr. Shaw.

“I wonder how far along we are,” I say, staring at a collection of baby photographs on the wall.

Shane glances up from his phone. “You can’t be too far along, because you’re not showing, right? When do women start to get a baby bump?”

“I’m not sure. It’s not for a while.”

“Hold on, I’ll check.” He does a quick Internet search on his phone. “It looks like three to four months for first time mothers.”

There’s a brisk knock on the door, and then the door opens and in walks Dr. Shaw. “Hello, Beth,” she says, shaking my hand. “It’s good to see you.” She smiles at Shane. “You must be Dad.”

Shane pockets his phone and stands. “I am.” He shakes her proffered hand. “Shane McIntyre. Pleased to meet you.”

Dr. Shaw washes her hands at the sink and puts on gloves. After a quick physical examination, she uses a tape measure to measure my belly. Then she listens to my abdomen with her stethoscope.

“Do you know when you had your last period?” she asks me as she makes some notations on my chart.

“Not really.” I smile apologetically. “When I started taking the pill, my periods were always very light, and they’ve never completely stopped. The past couple have been lighter than usual, more like spotting, I’d say.”

She nods. “That happens sometimes on the pill. It’s nothing to be concerned about. You’re not showing, and you really haven’t gained much weight since your last visit, so I’m guessing you’re not very far along. Perhaps eight to ten weeks is my guess. I suggest we do an ultrasound and see what we can determine from that.”

“Sounds good,” I say, looking over at Shane, who gives me a reassuring nod.

Dr. Shaw pulls a chair and an ultrasound cart closer to the exam table. Then she squirts some gel onto the ultrasound wand and onto my belly, then presses the wand against my body. Shane comes to stand beside the examination table and takes hold of my good hand, watching the monitor with me. I can’t make heads or tails out of what we’re seeing on the monitor... it’s just a field of black and white static.

“There’s your bladder,” Dr. Shaw says, rolling the wand over a dark patch. “This larger shape here is your uterus.” She zeros in on a dark round oval. “And here’s the gestational sac, right where it should be. And right here is your baby.” She moves the wand, pivoting and rocking it. “Here’s the head, right here.” She points at a tiny little blip on the monitor. “And this is an arm, and here’s a hand. This is a foot.”

As she moves the wand around some more, zooming in and out, we can just barely make out the shape of the baby. The little blip moves, rotating and flexing its limbs.

“He’s moving,” I say, filled with awe.

“He certainly is,” Dr. Shaw says. “Or she.”

Dr. Shaw points at the monitor. “Do you see that there? That’s your baby’s heart beating. Hold on, and you can hear it.” She presses a button, and suddenly we can hear the rapid little staccato of heartbeats.

Shane squeezes my hand as we listen.

“Oh, my God,” I breathe, gazing up at Shane as reality hits home. “We’re having a baby.”

He smiles at me, then leans down to give me a quick, tender kiss. “Yes, we are.”

Dr. Shaw takes some measurements of the tiny fetus. “It’s a little early to tell, but I’m going to estimate you’re about nine weeks along, maybe ten.”

When I think about how close we almost came to losing our baby, my eyes fill with tears. If Sam hadn’t pushed me out of the way, there’s no telling what might have happened.

Dr. Shaw smiles as she puts away the wand. “Don’t worry, Beth. Your baby’s fine. Everything looks perfectly normal.”

Shane clears his throat as he addresses Dr. Shaw. “What about sex? While she’s pregnant. Is that okay?”

Dr. Shaw bites back a grin. “Intercourse is perfectly fine, Mr. McIntyre. There’s nothing to worry about. Don’t let her hang from any chandeliers, of course. But otherwise, I’m sure it’ll be fine.”