He slid his hands through her hair, pulling her closer. “As sure as I know we’re growing old together. I can see it now. Two rocking chairs on a porch, watching our grandchildren make a fucking mess of our yard. It’s all good. We’ll sugar them up and send them home with their parents in retaliation.” Emily giggled. “Though you might have to feed me applesauce because these pearly whites will be gone. You’re stuck with me.”
Emily looked at him. “Applesauce, huh?”
Gavin shrugged, a grin pulling at his mouth. “Eh. I like pudding, too.”
Pushing up on her tiptoes, Emily popped a kiss on his nose. “Deal. Applesauce, pudding, and grandchildren running loose on sugar highs in retaliation.” Gavin smiled, and Emily reached for his hand. “Okay. But I still need to schedule the transvaginal ultrasound before we leave.”
Gavin cleared his throat as they approached the window where Blondie was chatting away on the phone. “Right. About this transvaginal thing. I don’t like the sound of it.”
Emily rolled her eyes. “What now?”
“Well, I’m not a doctor, so I’m just assuming here, but I’m thinking some dirty old man’s going to have center view of your—”
Emily quickly covered his mouth, her eyes wide as saucers. “Gavin!” She could feel his lips lift in a smile, his blue eyes shimmering with humor. “You, sir, need to get used to this.”
“I’ll do no such thing,” he said, the words muffled under her hand. Turning, effectively releasing his mouth from Emily’s hostage grip, he rang the bell, jolting Blondie from her conversation. Eyes wide, she hung up the phone. “We need to schedule a transvaginal amnio for my girlfriend, but we’d like it performed by a woman.” Emily belted out a laugh. Gavin looked at Emily, his smile wide. “What?”
She shook her head. “It’s not called a transvaginal amnio, psycho Caveman.” His smile faltered, and if Emily wasn’t mistaken, he appeared slightly embarrassed. Nonetheless, he looked adorably sexy.
“It’s called a transvaginal ultrasound,” said Blondie, looking equally embarrassed by the conversation. “Dr. Richards sent the paperwork up. Will two-thirty next Tuesday over at the Freeman building work for you?”
“Will a woman perform this test?” Gavin questioned, no longer looking embarrassed or confused. Now he just looked all-out concerned, and Emily couldn’t help but laugh again.
“I can put in a request, but I can’t guarantee it’ll be a woman who does it.”
“That’s fine.” Emily reached for Gavin, quickly leading him toward the exit. “Two-thirty, next Tuesday, the Freeman building. I’ll be there. Thank you.”
“A woman,” Gavin called out as Emily tugged him into the hall. “We want a woman.”
Emily stepped out into the frigid night air, the mid-January wind needling her face as she waited for Gavin to pull around to the front of his building. With her glove-covered hands tucked deep into the pockets of her pea coat, she shook as she watched motorists fly by. Glancing to her left, she caught Gavin’s Ferrari rounding the corner of the underground garage. She puffed out a smoky sigh of relief and made her way to the curb. Reaching for the handle as he stopped, she swung open the door and climbed in, her body nearly frozen from the few seconds outside.
Gavin frowned, a perplexed look on his face. “I was getting out to let you in.”
She pressed the control panels on the dash, blasting the heat. “You’re too ki… kind,” she stuttered as she pulled the seatbelt across her waist. “But I wasn’t waiting. It’s cold as hell out there.”
“Hell’s not cold, sweets.” He stroked his knuckles against her neck as he eased into traffic. “But you are. Why didn’t you wait in the lobby?”
“I think I’m a glutton for punishment.” She pulled out her cell from her purse and hit the button for Olivia. After a few rings with no answer, she sent a text instead. “It’s either that or… yeah. I’m a glutton for punishment.”
Gavin stopped at a light. Sliding his arm over the back of her seat, he lifted a brow. “You did pass on a romantic evening of watching reruns of the Honeymooners with your man. Maybe you do deserve a little punishment.”
Bringing her eyes to his, she slid her phone closed. “You’re just saying that because we’re meeting everyone at Pacha.”
“Right. A crazy club. Somewhere you don’t belong considering you’re pregnant.”
Emily sighed, amused at his remark. She knew where it came from. She’d won the dispute while getting ready, but he wasn’t hot on the idea. “Gavin Blake?”
“Miss Emily Cooper.”
“Stop being an ass.”
Gavin chuckled. “An ass?” Traffic light green, he brought his arm down to pop the car into gear.
“Yes. An ass. We went over this. It’s a club, not a mosh pit. We haven’t been out with everyone in a while, and in a few months, I won’t be able to.” She kissed his cheek, placing her hand over his as he glided through the gears. “So, I suggest you zip it, Caveman, and show off your hot girlfriend before it’s too late.”
Grinning, he shook his head. “That’s twice today.”
“Twice what?” Emily questioned, pulling down the visor. “That I’ve called you Caveman?”
“Yes. But it’s also twice today you’ve rendered me speechless.” Gavin tried to keep his eyes on the road, but it was close to impossible. Emily’s vanilla-scented perfume drifting through the car was making him high. Shifting in his seat, he glanced in her direction, taking in her sweet, puckered lips. “I’m starting to like it more than I should.” She smiled as she checked her makeup in the mirror. “Either way, this caveman’s keeping his hot girlfriend tucked close while we’re there.” He pulled his eyes from her beautiful smile back to the road. “I’ll deal with your punishment later, Cavewoman.”