Chapter 10: The First Ultrasound
The next few days passed in a blur of soft mornings and careful touches. Cole had expected the reality of their situation to sink in with time, to normalize into something manageable. But every time he caught Jaxson's gaze across the breakfast table, every time he felt the alpha's hand drift to the small of his back, he was reminded that nothing about this was normal. Nothing about this was manageable.
They were having a baby. A real, actual, tiny human that would depend on them for everything. Cole had spent his entire adult life convincing himself he wasn't the type for domesticity. He was the type for spreadsheets and schedules, for anticipating Jaxson's needs before he even voiced them. The thought of a nursery, of onesies and car seats and middle-of-the-night feedings, felt like a foreign language he was expected to speak fluently.
But Jaxson was already fluent.
Cole had caught him that morning, standing in the doorway of the spare bedroom they'd converted into a small office. The alpha's hand was resting against the doorframe, his head tilted slightly, his eyes fixed on the empty space beyond.
"What are you doing?" Cole had asked.
Jaxson had blinked, coming back to himself. "Just picturing."
"Picturing what?"
"A crib. That little rocking chair your mother used to have. A changing table with those drawers that actually pull out smoothly instead of getting stuck like every piece of furniture I've ever owned."
Cole had laughed, but it came out watery. "We have months, Jaxson."
"I know." Jaxson had turned, his hand finding Cole's waist and pulling him close. His thumb traced the line of Cole's hip, sending a shiver through him. "But I've waited my whole life for something this permanent. I'm not wasting a single second."
Now, standing in the waiting room of Dr. Hartley's clinic, Cole felt that same pressured sense of permanence pressing down on him. The chairs were upholstered in a warm grey fabric that was probably chosen to feel homey but just felt vaguely medical. The coffee table was scattered with magazines he'd never read—parenting publications, mostly, with glossy photos of beaming couples holding swaddled infants. The faint hum of the air conditioning mixed with the distant murmur of other patients, other parents, other lives moving forward in quiet parallel to his own.
"I hate this waiting," Cole murmured, his hands twisting in his lap.
Jaxson's fingers covered his, stilling the motion. "We've been here for four minutes."
"Four minutes too long."
"You're nervous."
"I'm terrified." Cole's voice cracked on the final word. He glanced at Jaxson, his honey-colored eyes bright with unshed tears. "What if something's wrong? What if the doctor finds something—"
"Then we'll deal with it." Jaxson's voice was low and steady, his thumb stroking circles over Cole's knuckles. "Together."
"I know. I know, but—"
"Cole." Jaxson leaned in, his forehead nearly touching Cole's. "I can feel your anxiety through the bond. It's making my palms sweat, and I don't sweat. I'm an alpha. We're supposed to emit confidence and musk and absolutely no perspiration whatsoever."
Cole choked out a laugh. "That's not a real thing."
"It's absolutely a real thing. It's in the alpha handbook, right next to the chapter on brooding strategically and the section on possessive staring."
"Possessive staring is not a—"
"Let me have this, Cole. I'm trying to make you smile."
The warmth in Jaxson's voice did what the joking was supposed to do. Cole's shoulders relaxed, just slightly, and he managed a genuine smile.
"Thank you," he said quietly.
"Of course." Jaxson pressed a kiss to his brow. "Now, when they call us back, I need you to remember something."
"What's that?"
"You're not doing this alone. You're not." Jaxson's gaze bore into his. "And I'm not just talking about the appointment. I'm talking about all of it. Every appointment, every craving, every sleepless night when the baby is kicking and you can't get comfortable. I'm going to be right there. Probably thinking about you in ways that would make a romance novelist blush, but I'll be there."
Cole's face flushed pink. "Look who's talking about blushing."
"It's a figure of speech. I don't actually blush. My face is chiseled from marble."
"That's incredibly conceited."
"I'm a CEO. It's in my job description." Jaxson squeezed his hand. "Cole."
"Yeah?"
"I'm scared too."
The confession was so quiet, so unexpectedly vulnerable, that Cole felt his heart crack open. He stared at Jaxson, at the sharp lines of his face, the dark intensity of his eyes, the set of his jaw that usually radiated unshakeable confidence.
"You are?"
"Terrified," Jaxson admitted. "I've built companies. I've brokered deals worth billions. I've walked into negotiations with men who'd happily stab me in the back and come out smiling. But the idea of holding a tiny, fragile version of you in my arms?" He shook his head. "That's the most daunting thing I've ever faced."
"Jaxson..."
"I want to be good at this. I want to be the father my own father wasn't. And I don't—" He stopped, swallowing hard. "I don't know if I have that in me. I've never seen it modeled. I've never had anyone show me how to be soft and steady and present all at once."
Cole reached up, his fingers brushing the line of Jaxson's jaw. The alpha's eyes closed at the touch, and Cole felt the trembling vulnerability beneath the composed exterior.
"You'll figure it out," he said softly. "You're the smartest person I know. And you have me. We'll learn together."
Jaxson opened his eyes, and the raw gratitude in his gaze made something in Cole's chest twist. "I don't deserve you."
"You absolutely don't," Cole agreed, and the laughter that escaped Jaxson was watery but genuine. "But you're stuck with me anyway."
The door to the inner office swung open, and a nurse in cheerful floral scrubs poked her head out. "Cole Anderson? Dr. Hartley is ready for you."
Cole's heart leaped into his throat. He stood, and Jaxson's hand found the small of his back—a steadying pressure, a silent promise.
"Let's go see our pup," Jaxson murmured.
---
The exam room was warm, softly lit, a far cry from the cold sterility Cole had been expecting. The walls were painted a pale sage green, and a row of framed botanical prints—ferns, mostly, with delicate fronds—hung above a plush examination table. Dr. Hartley was already there, reviewing a tablet, his white coat crisp over an impeccable navy sweater.
He looked up as they entered, his features softening into a warm smile. "Cole. Glad to see you. And you must be Jaxson."
Jaxson extended his hand, shaking Dr. Hartley's firmly. "Thanks for fitting us in on such short notice."
"I always have time for new parents." Dr. Hartley gestured to the chair beside the exam table. "Have a seat. We'll get started in just a moment."
Cole's mouth was dry. He settled onto the table, the paper crinkling beneath him, and Jaxson took the chair, his hand immediately finding Cole's.
The doctor moved with an easy efficiency, but Cole could barely track his movements. The hum of the machines, the faint antiseptic scent, the way Jaxson's thumb was stroking his palm—everything felt hyper-real and distant at the same time.
"I'm going to ask you a few questions first," Dr. Hartley said, glancing up from his tablet. "Nothing too invasive. Just routine inquiries to ensure we're starting off on the right foot."
Cole nodded.
"Any history of complications in your family? High blood pressure, diabetes, that sort of thing?"
"No. My family's pretty unremarkable."
"And you, Jaxson? Any familial health conditions?"
Jaxson's jaw tightened. "My father had a heart condition. But he was also a heavy drinker and a chain smoker, so it's hard to say what was genetics and what was self-inflicted."
Dr. Hartley's pen scratched across the tablet. "And your mother?"
"She passed when I was young. Cancer."
"Any other siblings?"
"One sister. She's healthy."
Cole watched Jaxson's profile, noting the way his voice had flattened on the personal details. He squeezed Jaxson's hand, a silent acknowledgment, and felt the alpha's grip tighten in response.
"Everything looks good on paper," Dr. Hartley said, setting the tablet aside. "Now let's take a look at what's actually happening in there."
He turned to a bulky machine on wheels, the ultrasound monitor dark and unblinking. Cole's stomach clenched.
"This is going to be cold," Dr. Hartley warned, squeezing a clear gel onto the wand. "But it's over quickly."
The gel did nothing to soften the shock of the cold metal against Cole's skin. He flinched, but Jaxson's hand tightened, grounding him.
"Okay," Dr. Hartley murmured, pressing the wand against Cole's lower abdomen. "Let's see what we've got."
Cole stared at the dark screen. Static, grainy, meaningless. He couldn't make out anything. Just shapes, swirls of grey and black, and the faint sound of his own heartbeat—no, that was the room's heartbeat. Or maybe it was just the drone of the machines.
And then—
"There."
Dr. Hartley's voice was quiet, focused. He pressed a button, and the image sharpened. Cole squinted, still seeing nothing recognizable.
"The gestational sac right here," Dr. Hartley continued, pointing at a dark circle on the screen. "And there—do you see that flicker?"
Cole did see it. A tiny pulsing light, rhythmic and unmistakable.
"Is that—" He couldn't finish the sentence.
"That's your pup's heartbeat." Dr. Hartley smiled. "Strong. Healthy. Right on schedule."
A sound escaped Cole. Not a word, not a sob—just a breath. A release of all the fear and tension and hope he'd been holding for weeks. Tears streamed down his face before he could stop them.
Jaxson's hand was crushing his now, knuckles white, and when Cole glanced at him, he saw the mask completely gone. Jaxson's face was open and raw, his dark eyes wet.
"Strong," Jaxson repeated, his voice hoarse. "Healthy."
"Absolutely." Dr. Hartley moved the wand, the image shifting on the screen. "And if I'm not mistaken—"
He paused, adjusting the angle. Cole felt his breath catch.
"Dr. Hartley? What is it?"
The doctor was smiling. That was something. A full, wide smile that crinkled the corners of his eyes.
"Well, this is a nice surprise."
"What?" Cole's heart was pounding hard enough to hear. "What is it?"
Dr. Hartley turned the monitor toward them, the image clearer now. "I'm seeing two gestational sacs. And two distinct heartbeats."
Two.
The word hung in the air, thick and impossible.
"You're having twins," Dr. Hartley said warmly. "Congratulations."
The room went silent. Cole stared at the screen, at the two tiny pulsing lights, and tried to process what he was seeing.
Twins. Two pups. Two heartbeats flickering in perfect time.
He felt Jaxson's hand tighten further, and then the alpha let out a noise—low, guttural, almost primal. Heads turned, but Jaxson was already pulling Cole into his arms, burying his face in the crook of his neck.
"Two," Jaxson breathed against his skin. "We're having two."
Cole wrapped his arms around him, breathing him in, feeling the steady thrum of the alpha's heart against his own chest. The tears were still falling, but they were happy tears now. Overwhelming tears. Tears that said more than any words could.
And then, faintly, through the chaos of his own emotions, he heard Jaxson's thoughts.
Double the protect. Double the need. Two tiny souls to safeguard from the world. I'm already dreaming of double strollers and bunk beds and two bundles of chaos wrapped in matching blankets. Two of them. Two of our pups. I'll burn the world down before I let anything harm you or them. Every breath I take is sworn to you—all three of you. This is the beginning of our forever, Cole. And it's more beautiful than I ever dared to imagine.
Cole pulled back, his eyes meeting Jaxson's. The alpha's gaze was fierce and adoring, a silent promise carved into every line of his face.
"Two," Cole whispered.
"Two," Jaxson echoed. "Our pups."
Dr. Hartley was watching them with a knowing smile, giving them space to process. He cleared his throat gently before speaking again.
"If you have any questions, now would be the time." His tone was professional but warm. "A twin pregnancy is considered high-risk, which means a few extra monitoring appointments down the line. But so far, everything looks exactly as it should. Both pups are measuring right on schedule, and their heartbeats are nice and strong."
Cole laughed wetly. "They're stubborn. They get it from their father."
Jaxson's eyes glinted. "And their other father?"
"That's just the pregnancy hormones."
"Hormones that are currently carrying my two pups. I'll take it."
Dr. Hartley's pen scratched out more notes. "I'll send a few reminders about upcoming appointments. And I want you to take a daily prenatal supplement—I'll write you a prescription. Twice as much folate, since we're dealing with two little ones."
Cole nodded, still reeling. "Of course. Whatever you recommend."
"Good." The doctor stood, wiping his hands. "I think you've got a happy healthy start here. I'll see you in a few weeks for the next checkup—we'll do a more detailed scan that'll give us a better look at their development. And of course, if anything feels off in the meantime, don't hesitate to call or message the office."
Cole reached out to shake his hand, but his grip felt weak. "Thank you. Really. Thank you."
"Congratulations to you both." Dr. Hartley smiled at them, his eyes skipping between Cole and Jaxson. "You're going to be wonderful parents. I can already tell."
The door closed behind him, leaving them alone in the warm, quiet room. The ultrasound screen went dark, but the image was seared into Cole's mind—two tiny bodies, two beating hearts.
He was having twins. They were having twins.
Jaxson turned to him, and there it was again—that raw, open look that was so different from the cold CEO facade he showed the world. His hands were steady on Cole's hips, his thumb tracing absent circles over the swell of his belly.
"Double the trouble," Jaxson murmured, though he was smiling. "I'm already picturing them getting into everything."
"Only if they get that from you."
"Oh, absolutely."
Cole let out a shaky laugh and leaned forward, touching his forehead to Jaxson's. "We're going to be okay, right? With two of them, I mean. That's a lot."
"Cole." Jaxson's voice was gentle but firm. "We're going to be more than okay. We're going to be unstoppable. I promise you that."
And Cole believed him. For the first time since they'd stepped into that exam room, he truly believed that everything was going to be fine. He wasn't alone. He'd never be alone again.
"Okay," he said softly. "Let's go celebrate."
Jaxson's smile turned wicked. "I know a place. It's not far from here."
"Oh?"
"Best milkshakes in the city. And they have a little fountain out front—I've seen it in pictures. Their kids, Cole. I want to bring our kids there someday."
Cole felt his heart swell past the point of tenderness. "Then let's start today."
Jaxson helped him off the exam table, his hand never leaving Cole's as they made their way out of the clinic. The waiting room was still half-full, but Cole barely noticed. His mind was still caught on those two tiny heartbeats, on the future growing inside him.
Twins. His and Jaxson's pups. Two times the chaos, two times the joy.
When they reached the car, Jaxson opened the passenger door and waited. Cole slipped past him, but Jaxson's hand caught his wrist, gently turning him back.
"I mean it, Cole." His voice was low, rough. "Whatever it takes. Whatever comes our way. I'm going to be there. We're going to do this together."
Cole looked at him—at the sharp jaw and the softer eyes, at the man who'd been a cold, untouchable stranger just months ago and was now the center of his universe.
"I know," he said. "I believe you."
And he did.