Rock Wedding (Rock Kiss #4) - Nalini Singh Page 0,49
If the media—”
“Fuck the media.” Abe’s harsh tone sliced through the air. “I want to be there for you.”
Sarah took a trembling breath, glanced at that ticking clock. Abe’s mother had given it to them as an anniversary present, and Sarah had always loved it. Simple wooden hands on a carved background of a darker wood polished to a shine, it had been handmade by an artist who worked with the natural grain and patterns of his chosen medium.
“Sarah, let me do this.”
Regardless of her panic at the idea of being hounded by the paparazzi, Sarah knew Abe deserved to learn the truth alongside her. She cleared her throat, said, “The appointment’s in thirty minutes.”
ABE TURNED ON THE RADIO TO COVER the silence in the SUV as he drove Sarah to a doctor in the suburbs. Whatever her original reasoning for choosing that doc, a man she’d told Abe was her normal GP, the unintended result was that the media was unlikely to spring them. Good. Because he was not having anyone upset Sarah today.
His heart boomed like David’s drums.
The idea of a kid…
Emotions crashed through him: joy, fear, grief, excitement, sheer terror… and shame.
He squeezed the steering wheel. “I’m sorry about our first time around.” Sarah’s miscarriage had been early on in the pregnancy, but she’d known, been devastated. It hadn’t felt as real to him—maybe because he’d already been going down the rabbit hole, but still, he’d done okay then. He’d held her, listened to her talk out her grief, made sure she ate. But none of that mattered after the ugly words he’d flung at her the night he drove her away.
How the fuck did a man make up for that?
“It’s fine.” Sarah smoothed her hands over the skirt of her dress, her voice quiet. “Let’s just get through this.”
Abe wanted to reach out, touch her, convince her she never had to worry he’d repeat his drug-fueled behavior. “Whatever happens, I’ll be there.” Stopping at a light, he turned and spoke to her profile. “I won’t cut and run. Not now, not ever.”
Another jerky nod, her hands twisting on the strap of her handbag. “Light’s green.”
He drove on. The two of them didn’t speak again until he’d brought the car to a halt in the small underground garage of the building where the doctor had his office. “Which floor?”
“Third.”
He put his hand on her lower back as they got into the elevator, kept it there as they stepped out. Their luck held. Miracle of miracles, there was no one else in the waiting room.
Smiling, the white-haired receptionist said, “You’re in luck, Sarah. We’ve had two cancellations in a row, so you don’t have to wait. The nurse will be right out to fetch you.” A pause, her eyes on her computer screen. “Oh, wait, I see the doctor said for you to see him directly—he wanted to check up on that flu of yours. I’ll have the nurse show you through.”
“How did you end up with a country doctor in LA?” Abe murmured to Sarah as they waited for the nurse, his hope to make Sarah smile.
That smile was shaky. “Dr. Snyder is a country doctor—and the receptionist is his wife,” Sarah whispered. “They only relocated to LA because their daughter and grandkids are here. I’m going to miss them both when he retires like he’s threatening to do.”
“Does she always call him ‘the doctor’?”
Sarah nodded. “She’s very proud of him.”
Then the nurse, a short no-nonsense woman with a warm smile, was there.
Once inside the doctor’s office, Sarah took a seat in the chair nearest a fifty-something male who sported a bushy black mustache and kind brown eyes above the white of his medical coat, his pale skin dotted with freckles.
Abe shut the door before taking a seat in the chair next to her.
“Sarah.” The doctor’s eyes scanned Sarah’s record on the computer. “How’s that flu you couldn’t shake off? Any problems?” He put on his stethoscope and pressed one end to Sarah’s chest.
“I’m—”
“Breathe deep,” the doctor interrupted. “Now out.” He made her do that several times before nodding. “Excellent. All clear.”
Sarah’s smile was tight. “The antibiotics took care of the chest infection in the first couple of days, but I finished the whole course like you said.”
“Good, good.” The doctor typed a note into her medical file using one finger on each hand, pecking at the keys as fast as a bird hunting for food. “So you just came in for the follow-up?”