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WEST TOOK ONE LOOK around the waiting room of the doctor’s office and swallowed hard. Pink walls decorated with black-and-white photos of naked babies surrounded them. He fit in this place about as well as a foot fit into a glove.

Three pregnant women besides Soleil occupied the chairs, each one looking more ready to pop than the next. A tired-looking woman with a brand-new baby-so new it was still kind of red and wrinkled-sat closest to the door. The baby was in one of those big plastic car-seat things that had a handle, making the baby more convenient to carry around, apparently.

West was the only guy in the room-possibly the only guy in the entire building-and the estrogen in the air was enough to make him want to go do something manly like check under the hood of his car, or maybe hunt for wild boar.

While Soleil checked in at the front desk, he zeroed in on the magazine selection and tried to find something to distract himself. Parenting, Baby, Woman’s Day, Fit Pregnancy…a far cry from the waiting rooms on the air force base, where Soldier of Fortune and Sports Illustrated dominated the tabletop selections. So he decided to embrace the femininity and grabbed the latest issue of Baby.

He sat and was about to start flipping through the magazine when Soleil put down her purse next to him.

“I’ll be right back,” she said, holding up a little plastic cup and wincing.

“Where’s my cup?” he joked, and she rolled her eyes before disappearing through a doorway.

As West watched her walk away, something unexpected stirred in him. The way Soleil walked said everything about her. She knew who she was and where she was going. She was comfortable in her skin, and even as her body changed with pregnancy, her walk maintained that signature confident, sexy stride he’d found so attractive in the summer.

Some part of him still wanted her.

It wasn’t the time to be thinking that way. Not yet, anyway. He needed a distraction, so he turned his attention back to the periodical.

The first article he encountered was “Ten Painful Breast-feeding Problems Solved!” and if it hadn’t been for the buxom breast barely concealed by a baby’s head covering the page facing the article, he would have moved on to something else. Instead, he lingered and learned all about what “latching on” meant and how important it was to make sure the baby was doing it properly.

By the time Soleil returned, cup free, he’d also learned about engorgement-ouch!-and mastitis.

She read over his shoulder.

“You’ll be relieved to know,” she whispered after a moment, “you won’t actually have to do that. It’s mostly the mom’s job.”

“I just want to be educated in case you come to me with complaints about your chafed nipples.”

He started to read the next article, “What Your Baby Is Telling You Without Saying a Word.”

Beside him, Soleil produced an issue of the New Yorker from her purse, apparently disinterested in the unspoken language of babies.

He glanced over her shoulder and caught her chuckling at a David Sedaris essay.

“That’s not going to teach you anything you need to know about babies,” he whispered, only half joking.

She looked at him as if he was crazy. “Just because I’m having a baby doesn’t mean I have to turn into a boring dolt who thinks and talks about nothing but my child.”

Part of him took offense at her tone and wanted to bring her down a notch. “Do you know what to do when your milk duct gets clogged?”

“No, but I’m sure you’ll be right there to tell me.”

West resisted making any more inflammatory comments, because Soleil suggesting that he might be around to tell her such things was progress enough for one day. No need to push his luck.

But, was that what he actually wanted? To be around, giving her breast-feeding pointers?

A day ago, he’d never given a moment’s thought to the complications faced by nursing mothers, and today he was claiming to be educated on the subject.

Was this who he was becoming?

West had always thought of himself first and foremost as an air force Special Forces officer. He lived for his work. He’d always thought of it as who he was, as well as what he did.

But it was only his job. It was something he did for a living. He was also a guy who loved rock climbing, camping, backcountry hiking, kayaking and distance running. Of course that was all more stuff he did. It wasn’t really him, was it?

Becoming a father though-that felt like a change in the core of his very being. It wasn’t something he could pick up for a while, like tennis, and discard when he tired of it.

For the rest of his life, no matter what else changed, he would always be a father.

As he stared at the magazine on his lap, his vision went blurry for a few moments. He focused on an article about how to make organic baby food. He closed the magazine and looked around. The women who’d been here when they’d arrived had all been called in without his noticing it. Across from them, another couple was just sitting down.

The guy caught his eye. The same deer-in-headlights expression that West was sure he wore was faintly visible on the other man’s face. West smiled and nodded, and the man nodded back, then looked at the selection of magazines and opted to sit and stare at the wall.

West watched the other couple, who were whispering to each other now. They were far enough away that he couldn’t hear what they were saying, but he could tell by their body language and gestures that they were in love.

The man placed a hand on his wife’s huge belly, on a spot she indicated, and smiled at her. He must have been feeling the baby kick.

Had Soleil felt their own baby kick?

He wouldn’t know.

How did they look to others? Each of them sitting stiffly, not touching, not talking, they must have looked as if they were waiting for grim news.

He didn’t want it to be like this. Okay, he’d never imagined how it would be to await a baby’s arrival, and he’d never imagined getting a woman pregnant by accident. But now they were in this predicament, so it was time to figure out how he wanted circumstances to unfold.

Soleil giggled again at the article she was reading.

“Mind reading it to me?” West dared to ask. “I think I’ve learned all I need to know about breast-feeding for now.”

“Hold on,” she said, not even looking up. “I’m almost done. You can read it yourself.”

How were they supposed to make the best of it when she shot him down at every turn?

The door to the examining rooms opened, and a nurse called, “Soleil Freeman?”

West looked at Soleil. “Come on back with me,” she said, so he stood and followed her through the door and down the hallway to the room the nurse indicated they enter.

“You can change into the gown behind the curtain,” she said. “When you’re ready, pull back the curtain and the doctor will be in to see you shortly.”

West took a seat in a pink plastic chair against a lavender wall. Was there anything in this place that wasn’t designed to look girlie?

On the wall next to him was a bulletin board filled with pictures of new babies, some alone and some in the arms of grinning parents. A few lay in cribs with siblings standing next to them or propped on the laps of awkward-looking children who clearly had never held a baby before.

Soleil stepped behind the curtain and drew it as the nurse closed the door.

“No peeking,” she said, only half joking, he suspected.

“I’ve already seen you naked, you know.”

“Trust me, I’ve got a daily reminder.”

He heard her shuffling as she disrobed, and he tried to imagine how her body had transformed in pregnancy. Fuller breasts, rounder curves…She’d once had a waist so small he could put his hands around it and nearly touch fingers on both sides.