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Chapter Twelve – May 23

“I’m sorry I had to reschedule,” Dr. Tresher said as she breezed into the office. “I was called out of town. Oh look how big she’s gotten. Ten weeks old, right?”

I nodded.

“So how’s she doing?”

I smiled. “She’s turning her head, she likes being in a sitting position and on her tummy, and she loves her daddy.”

Nick laughed. He had Brooklyn propped against his chest; her chubby hands were wrapped around his fingers.

“Let’s weigh her shall we?” Dr. Tresher said. Nick handed Brooklyn over. I saw a look of confusion on her face. Her head turned towards Nick.

She began to cry. Nick looked at her sadly; I could see him resisting the urge to snatch her back.

“Oh my, little one,” the doctor cooed. She placed Brooklyn on the scale.

“Twelve pounds. Wonderful. She’s gaining weight at a good rate.”

I smiled. The doctor handed Brooklyn back to Nick. He looked into her eyes. Her bottom lip shook as she caught up with her sobs. She began to babble as if to say ‘Dad, don’t let me go!’ Nick kissed both of her cheeks. Dr. Tresher flipped through the clipboard.

“I think we can safely space out our visits a little more unless she gets a cold or you have another concern.”

“Can you cut her nails?”

“Ah, I was wondering where the scratch came from. Sure.”

She scooted her chair close to Nick and with the smallest nail clippers I had ever seen, trimmed Brooklyn’s fingernails. Brooke’s face contorted in a million different ways, but she didn’t cry. She gave the most dramatic infant sigh I had ever heard in my life and leaned against Nick.

Daddy was better than any pacifier or stuffed animal.

“Alright cutie pie. You’re all set.”

Nick proudly carried her out of the room. We were stopped by no fewer than six nurses who wanted to oogle her (and I daresay, Nick). He puffed out his chest proudly; the peacock was getting cocky.

“I didn’t think you could get more irresistible,” I told him as he bent over to buckle Brooklyn into her car seat. “But put a baby in your arm and I’m surprised you got out of there without being stripped down and covered in butter.”

The thought of butter made my mouth water. What I wouldn’t do for butter…and dinner rolls…

Nick stood back up and laughed. “Oh c’mon, I’m just doing what millions of other guys do every day.”

“Yeah, but you look so damn good doing it.”

He kissed me softly. “You’re prejudiced.”

I laughed and got in the car.

Nick swung through the drive through for lunch. He ordered a double cheeseburger and fries; I got a salad, no dressing, no croutons. The smell of the grease had me foaming at the mouth.

“All I’ve seen you eat lately is lettuce,” he complained. “You know, if you want to lose weight, you need a balanced diet and exercise.”

I huffed. “You call a cheeseburger and fries a balanced diet?”

He grinned; I wasn’t getting to him. “Touchy touchy.” He reached over and took a fry from the bag. “Want one?”

I shook my head. “Nope. Uh-uh.”

Nick made orgasmic sounds as he popped the fry in his mouth; I quickly looked out my window.

We got home and I fed Brooklyn and put her down for a nap. I headed back to the kitchen; Nick’s cheeseburger and fries were long gone. I took out my salad and stabbed my fork into the leafy lettuce.

Nick leaned on the counter; his butt stuck up in the air. For one insane moment he reminded me of Brooklyn lying on her play mat. He smiled at me as I tried to make believe the lettuce was chocolate pudding. With cool whip. And a cherry.

“I have a proposition for you,” he said. I looked at him warily.

“Come work out downstairs with me. We’ll take the baby monitor in case Brooklyn starts crying.”

“Work out?” I said in surprise.

It was stupid; but I hated to sweat. The Wii Fit was about my limit on physical activity and that was because it was fun to see the little jumping piggy bank when I earned coins.

“Yeah, I’ll get you on the bike.”

I bit my lip. It was fun to see Nick get all sweaty; I wasn’t too sure about me. I looked down at my stomach and sighed.

“Sure.”

I shoveled down the rest of my ‘rabbit food’ and went up to our bedroom. Nick changed into some sports shorts and a tank top. I put on a pair of yoga pants and a sports bra. I tugged my hair into a ponytail.

“That look works for you,” Nick said appreciatively. His arms went around my waist. His warm fingers trailed around my navel. I closed my eyes.

“You’re distracting me,” I murmured.

“Is that a good thing?”

“Mm-hmm.”

He spun me around and tugged on my ponytail. I sighed.

“Let’s call that a preview. If you get sweaty enough I’ll rinse you off in the shower.”

I laughed. “That’s incentive,” I said. He winked.

We headed downstairs to the workout room. The place smelled like Nick. Hot, sweaty, testosterone riddled Nick.

“So how about the bike?” Nick asked.

I walked over to the bike. It seemed perfectly harmless compared to the treadmill and the weight machine. I could do the bike. Right?

“C’mon,” Nick said. I swung my leg over the bike and scooted up on the seat. Nick moved things around so that I could reach the pedals.

“What level of resistance do you want?”

“Resistance?” I asked dumbly. Nick smiled patiently.

“You know, like when you ride a real bike up a hill? You can set this to resemble no hill, a little hill, or Mt. Everest.”

I felt my eyes widen. “No hill.”

Nick laughed. “I’ll set it real low.”

He pressed a couple buttons on the machine and then stepped back.

“Go for it.”

I started pedaling. After a few minutes I smiled. It wasn’t so bad. I was exercising. What was the big deal? This was easy.

“You good?” Nick asked. I nodded.

He drifted off towards the weights. I heard the telltale clink as he began to work out. The imagery of Nick’s muscles flexing under the weight actually caused me to pedal faster. I stared at the output. Maybe I had overreacted with the whole ‘no hill’ thing.

I leaned towards the display and found the resistance option. I set it up higher. I had to push a little harder but it still wasn’t bad. Feeling cocky, I cranked it up all the way.

Ten minutes later I thought I was going to die. I was gasping for breath; my feet seemed to forget how to move the pedals. A bead of sweat rolled down the bridge of my nose and onto the ground. I reached over and feebly turned down the resistance, but the damage was already done.

“You okay?” Nick said. I felt his hand on my shoulder. My sweaty shoulder. I nodded, but stopped pedaling and threw my arms over the bars.

“Want to try something else? How about the treadmill?”

I looked at him like he was crazy, but he just smiled and tugged me off the bike. My legs wobbled like jello. I actually prayed Brooklyn would start crying so I could escape.

No such luck.

I stumbled up on the treadmill. Nick once again demonstrated the control panel.

“I’m guessing you don’t want to feel like you’re running uphill?”

I shook my head.

“Alright, we’ll go easy on you.”

He started the machine off at a slow pace. With a kiss to my forehead he went over to the bike.

I kept up the pace on the treadmill pretty well for five minutes. Even so, I learned my lesson from the bike. I decided to lower the treadmill even more. Unfortunately for me, the treadmill’s controls didn’t work like the bike controls.

The treadmill took off like an out of control horse. With a little yelp I ran feebly for a few seconds and then felt myself begin to fall. I smacked face first into the mat. Red hot pain stung my face.

“Holy shit,” I heard Nick say. A few seconds later the machine stopped and he rolled me over onto my back.

“Are you okay?”

Through a haze of tears and sweat I stared up at him. My chest heaved; I felt nauseous. Nick looked concerned. I saw his eyes widen.

“Oh, your eye…”

“My eye? My eye?”

“I think you’re going to have a shiner,” Nick explained. “Let me go get you some ice.”

He took off at a run back up the stairs. I lay there trying to stare up at the ceiling. I had seen Howie fly off a treadmill once; back then it had been funny. It didn’t feel so funny now. I wondered if my eye had flown out of my head. I touched my left eye. It was fine. I touched my right. Pain shot through my face and I screamed.

“Don’t touch it,” Nick said, running back over to me. He knelt down and placed an icepack on my face.

“You must have smacked into the frame on your way down.”

I couldn’t help it. I began to cry. The tears made the ice pack stick to my skin. Nick’s arms went around me.

“It’s okay, shh, it’s okay,” he whispered.

I felt my nose begin to drip. Now I began to fear that I would walk down the aisle with a huge black and blue eye. Perfect.

“Let’s get you upstairs,” he said. He tried to hoist me up, but I just lay like a lump of lard forlornly on the treadmill. He hovered over me, hands on hips. With a sigh he scooped me up. I didn’t resist. I placed the unbruised side of my face on his shoulder and clung to the ice pack.

“Oh, Liv,” Nick said as he headed up to the main floor and then up to our bedroom. “I thought you getting your hair stuck in that tub had to have been the worst luck I had ever seen. But, trouble just follows you, doesn’t it?”

I choked out a sob. Nick held me closer. He walked into our room and then into the bathroom. Before I knew it I was sitting in a cool shower, still in my exercise clothes. Nick stripped down to just his tight jockeys and hovered over me.

As I looked at him, my tears subsided. I was sore, but distracted.

Trouble did follow me. But there were some kinds of trouble I could appreciate.

Nick was that type of trouble.