His to Own (The Rowdy Johnson Brothers #3) Read Online Tory Baker

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Contemporary, Erotic Tags Authors: Series: The Rowdy Johnson Brothers Series by Tory Baker
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Total pages in book: 43
Estimated words: 40206 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 201(@200wpm)___ 161(@250wpm)___ 134(@300wpm)
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“What’s that, Doc?” I’ve got a lot of nervous energy bottled up inside of me, which is horrible considering my stomach is being a pain in the ass. I put my hands under the backs of my thighs to keep from pulling at my fingers. Of course, my feet start swaying back and forth. Doctor Jimenez looks at my feet then at my face. Dang it. I still myself, barely.

“Here’s the thing, Juniper. Were you sexually active while taking your antibiotics?” My jaw drops and my eyes close. I’m so stupid. How could I be so fucking stupid? I’m a nurse, for god’s sake. I know better, learned these things in my rotation in labor and delivery.

“I’m pregnant, aren’t I? Which would make sense because I also forgot to take my pills one night and was on the tail end of my antibiotics.” There’s no way I’m telling him who I was with. While he’s taken an oath to keep certain things confidential, that doesn’t mean the other patients around can’t hear things, and when you mention anything Johnson-related, well, the snoops snoop even more.

“You are. How far along will be hard to calculate until you see an obstetrician. I’ll get you a referral, if you’d like it?” He’s not judging me but giving me options, and this is why I will always keep him as my doctor. I run through the idea of what I should do, but even if it means being a single mom, I’m not sure I could terminate my unborn child or give it up for adoption. Well, I’d be more worried about a child ending up with parents like mine.

“The referral, please.” I make the decision without hesitation.

“I’ll get that written up for you. Now, here’s the bad news and what most women are ready to run for the hills from. The nausea and vomiting.” My hand goes to my stomach, trying to suppress the need to do exactly that.

“Do I want to know?” Doctor Jimenez shakes his head. A tilt of his lips in a small smile is his way of saying probably not, but I’m going to tell you anyways.

“Highly unlikely. Your side effects of being pregnant should go away once you hit the twelve-week mark. Your obstetrician may have more tricks up his sleeve than I do since that’s what they do all day. I’d suggest getting into Doctor Rosales as soon as you can. For the time being, a few patients have told me ginger helps them. Bland foods like bananas, rice, applesauce may be an idea as well.”

“I’ll try the ginger. Sprite and crackers weren’t a match for this little peanut.” I’m going out on a limb and realize that between Lawson and me, our child is going to be one determined baby. A lot like the both of us are. Though, I’d like to say Lawson is more stubborn than determined.

“Sounds good. I’ll have Macey bring you the referral, and I’ll see you as needed.” He stands up from his place on the rolling chair. I remember the rare occurrences when my mom took me to the doctor, mainly to get my immunizations in order to stay in school. I thought everything the nurse and doctor used was cool, the sphygmomanometer, stethoscopes, otoscope, and definitely the rolling chair. When Mom left the room to use the restroom, my belly was flat on the seat, and I was spinning in circles so fast my head spun. I’d get caught, yelled at for making my mom look like a fool, but it was worth it to enjoy those few minutes of being young, careless, and reckless.

“Thank you.”

Doctor Jimenez squeezes my shoulder and starts for the door. “You’re welcome. You know, should you ever need a new job, I’ve got a position available for you.” This is a running joke. Every time I’m in here, he states the offer.

“I’ll keep that in mind, though the Johnsons might have a bone to pick with you.” He laughs, so do I, and then he heads out the door. Meanwhile, I’m left to my own devices. The wheels in my head are going at lightning speed. The waterworks appear, and I can do nothing but let them flow freely down my cheeks. I throw my body back on the table. The need to purge my feelings and bawl my eyes out is sitting right at the surface. I’d let myself go if I were in a place I knew I could let go. Instead, I’m cursing a certain man who obviously has super swimmer sperm. Then there’s me who knows better. Antibiotics cancel out birth control, and considering my medicine kept working for up to a week later, well, I might as well have been not taking birth control, which I did minus one night. Now I need to get my head on straight and figure out how to tell Lawson. That should go over like a turd in a punch bowl. And still, he doesn’t remember, or at least he’s not letting on that he does.


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