Having Jordan with me as we wait for my OB-GYN is like a dream. He has far exceeded anything I would have ever thought I’d get from a man. Especially one that I married for the sake of parents that constantly berated me.

“You’re shaking,” he murmurs in my ear, resting his hand on my knee.

“I can’t help it.” I don’t know why I’m so nervous. It could be due to Jordan being here or because this is my first OB appointment. My family doctor recommended her, and now I’m terrified there could be problems. “What if there’s something wrong? What if I screwed this up already? Oh crap. Crap, crap, crap.” Holding my head in my hands, panic consumes me.

Strong arms lift me into a comforting lap, and immediately, I feel better. My chest doesn’t feel like there’s a constrictor wrapped around it anymore. “Baby, do you think I’d have let you come without thoroughly investigating this doctor first?”

I look up at his words. “You didn’t?” He smirks. “You did!” I half shriek. The infuriating man has the gall to just smile at what he’s done.

Before I can say anything, a cheerful, “Miss Dolan?” is called out into the waiting room.

Standing with me in his arms, Jordan walks to the now shocked nurse and quietly tells her, “It’s Mrs. Maxwell now,” with a commanding grin on his smug face.

The nurse blushes and my glare at my husband amps up in response to face her.

“Right, then,” she clears her throat. “Mrs. Maxwell, this way please.”

“You can put me down now,” I mutter as we follow the perky nurse.

After getting us settled in the room, she smiles brightly over at Jordan and says, “Dr. Stewart will be right in.”

“If you don’t stop that they’re going to think you have an eye twitch.” Jordan laughs at me like he’s a comedian.

“She was ogling you. You made it very clear of my marital status, and she ogles you! Who does that?” I can’t help that I’m worked up. Damn pregnancy hormones.

“Horny nurses, that’s who,” an equally frustrated voice says behind us.

Pushing my way from Jordan’s arms as he spins around, the doctor is standing there trying ever so hard not to laugh at my tantrum.

“Pretty men make Mallory nervous.” Dr. Stewart smiles. “So, Megan, how are you feeling?”

“Pretty?” Jordan questions from behind me.

“I’m fine. Tired a lot. Craving some seriously questionable items, but overall, I feel great.”

“Any morning sickness?” She helps me up onto the table to lay down.

Her fingers on my abdomen are cold as I answer. “Occasionally, but not as much as I had expected.”

“Good.” She looks through my file. “You’re nearly to the end of your first trimester, and if it hasn’t hit you terribly by now, it likely won’t.” Flipping through a few pages, she inquires, “You had some blood tests done before coming here. About a month ago?”

Now I’m nervous. “Yes. Is something wrong?”

“Have you had any spotting?” Why won’t she answer me?

“No. None. Not since I realized I missed my period.” Taking a deep breath, my hands fidget. “What’s wrong? What did I do wrong?”

“Do?” She’s genuinely puzzled by that. “Absolutely nothing, Megan. Your iron is a little low; nothing wrong with that. I just wanted all the information first.”

“You’re sure?”

“Cross my heart.” She beams at me and makes the motion of crossing her finger over her heart.

“Now, would you like to see the baby?”

“We can do that?” Jordan asks excitedly.

“Oh yes, Megan’s over three months now. We’ll have a good picture and a strong heartbeat.”

“What about the sex?” My husband’s enthusiasm is reassuring.

“Not quite yet. In a month or so we should be able to if he or she doesn’t hide from the camera.” As she leaves the room to get the ultrasound machine, I sag against the table with relief.

“Told you everything was fine.” Jordan leans over to give me a sweet kiss on the forehead. His entire presence is reassuring.

“Thank you for being here today, baby. It means a lot to me.” My whisper sounds magnified in the small room.

“I will always be here, sweetheart. Nothing will ever keep me away from you.”

“Here we go!” Dr. Stewart’s entrance is perfectly timed. “Cold gel.” She grins, squirting the lubricant on my stomach, then smirks at my squirming.

As soon as the wand touches my belly, my eyes become glued to the screen. When I can’t see anything but black and white, I begin to worry.

A low thumping fills the room, and it isn’t until she says, “There it is,” that it registers to Jordan and me.

“That’s the heartbeat?” I ask, utterly amazed.

She nods.

“Wow.” Jordan murmurs squeezing my hand.

One tiny sound.

A low thump.

It means everything.