Crush - Kelsie Rae Page 0,38

at the farmer’s market anytime a toddler waddles around the stands. I’ve seen the way she sneaks silly faces at babies in their strollers. I’ve seen the soft expression that overcomes her any time she’s chatting with Sway on the phone. Yeah. She’s definitely going to make an amazing mom one day. And she’s already got the selfless part down. That’s for sure. So much so, that she decided to become a surrogate in hopes of giving that gift to someone else who deserved it.

Or maybe I’m just overanalyzing her.

Grabbing the handheld wand that connects to the ultrasound machine, I get right to work.

“Here’s your baby,” I announce a minute later as a black and white silhouette fills the screen. “Anthony, Sway, you guys are welcome to come closer and watch while I do a few measurements to make sure everything is developing properly.”

I’m not sure they’ve heard a single word I said after my initial announcement, but that’s okay. They’re lost in their own little world right now. I watch in silence as Sway covers her mouth with her hand and stares at the black and white silhouette of their baby. With glassy eyes, she remains frozen in place as Anthony steps behind her and wraps his arms around her waist.

“That’s our baby, Sway,” he whispers against her ear.

Still, she doesn’t say a word. She simply nods as the tears start to fall down her cheeks. The moment is so intimate. So fragile. I don’t want to break it with any words, but a small part of me feels like I’m intruding.

Glancing down at Marcy, I find her staring at Sway with the most sincere expression I’ve ever witnessed. It’s as if she’s honored to even be in the room during this moment when the truth is simple. Without Marcy, Sway wouldn’t have this experience at all. But that’s what makes Marcy so incredible. She would never take any credit for giving this to Sway, no matter how much she deserves it.

Marcy is…she’s something else.

Feeling my gaze, Marcy turns to me and gives me a broken smile as she blinks back tears. I don’t think she wants to break the moment either.

“Can you feel it?” Sway points to the screen where the baby is wiggling back and forth.

Marcy’s brows pull together in concentration before answering, “Sometimes. Not the little movements, but every once in a while, the little nugget will throw a solid punch or kick.”

Sway’s expression softens, but I don’t miss the longing in her gaze as she swallows thickly. “That’s…incredible.”

Without a word, I start measuring the baby’s heart, head circumference, and a few other critical measurements to confirm the infant is growing properly and won’t have any birth defects. Satisfied with the results, I snap a few screenshots then turn back to Anthony and Sway, who are still mesmerized.

“Everything looks great so far. Your baby is right on track.”

“Any health issues?” Anthony asks with bated breath.

“None. Would you like to know the gender?”

Sway looks over her shoulder at Anthony and waits for his two cents. After a quick, yet silent, conversation they nod in unison.

“Yeah,” Anthony answers with red-rimmed eyes while trying to hide his emotions with a dry cough. “I, uh, I think we would.”

It’s funny. Most moms connect with their unborn child long before the father does. Some say it’s because the mom has been preparing to become a parent since they were given dolls to play with, while the dads are thrown into the deep end of parenting during that first month of diaper duty.

But there are others out there who think of their future children for more than a fleeting moment. They’re the ones I catch whispering to their wives’ round stomachs. The ones who come to every appointment. The ones who have their video cameras in hand during the entire labor process in hopes of documenting every single second so they’ll never forget the high of becoming a father. Whether it’s the first or fifth time, they cherish the opportunity in the best way they can, and it’s incredible to witness.

Anthony is one of those dads. I can see it in his misty eyes. Hear it in his trembling voice. Hell, I can feel it in my bones.

And I’m jealous as hell.

My movements are jerky as I rotate the ultrasound wand and search for the right angle that will reveal the gender while attempting to get my shit together. I’m usually good at shoving aside my feelings and the memories that accompany