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“Nothing to be sorry about,” I soothe and splay my hand on her hip, my fingers itching to touch her stomach, to feel the rounded swelling that’s starting to show, even if she refuses to admit it. But I stop myself, knowing it could make her feel weird. It’s one thing to touch her in the middle of sex. She seems pretty open to any sort of touching and talking when it comes to all things sexual.
But touching her belly for the purpose of feeling the baby…watching my hand on her flesh as I caress her and having her watch me as I do it…that’s a different experience. One I’m not sure she wants to have with me. Nor should I want to have with her.
I scrub my hand over my face, my own exhaustion setting in. “We have the big ultrasound next week, so I’ll get to see plenty of the little taco then.”
“Taco?” Trista laughs and rolls over, pressing her ass into my hip. “Is that the food comparison size for next week?”
“No…taco is this week,” I answer, twisting back into the spooning position and letting my hand splay casually on her stomach, my fingers trembling nervously. “Next week, it’s a can of cola.”
“Definitely bigger than a goat turd,” Trista murmurs around a yawn.
“What?”
“Oh, nothing.”
I smile softly and let my eyes close as the smell of roses on her pillow envelops me like a warm cloud. I should go. I should get out of here and let her sleep. But I’m too tired to get up. I’m emotionally spent from revisiting a time in my life I try to forget. It makes me feel sick and regretful and ashamed.
But lucky number thirteen in my arms? In her bed? It feels like redemption.
WeeksPregnant:20
AnimalsontheMountain:9
“How hard is it not to look at that envelope?” I ask Wyatt as he pulls out of the hospital parking lot after finishing our big twenty-week appointment.
He shrugs and shoots me a look like he’s as cool as a cucumber.
He’s not.
I saw his hand trembling when the nurse gave him the sealed envelope with the gender written inside. I saw his face while the ultrasound tech printed out 4D pictures showing the baby’s chubby little cheeks and button nose. I saw his eyes when he looked at them like they were the most incredible things he’d ever seen.
How did I feel about the scan?
I’m a cow.
But the way he looks right now with the window down and the setting sun slicing through his disheveled hair, his muscular forearms on full display as he drives the car in that tight white T-shirt…
It’s a good look.
He’s giving me lots of good looks lately.
Like how he looked when he woke up in my bed the other morning, still fully dressed from the night before. He just pressed a kiss to my temple and said he was going to make me breakfast, and that’s whathe did. He made eggs and toast in my kitchen, set it on my nightstand table, and headed off to work.
No sex.
No sundown promises.
Just this look that I didn’t let myself see before.
And I have to admit, it caused my mind to wander. Like what if he were my boyfriend? What if we were just a normal couple and falling for each other and I didn’t have to hate how good it felt for him to hold me all night long with no sexual advances whatsoever?
It’s an interesting look.
“Hey, do you mind if we stop at Max’s house?” Wyatt asks, his thick forearm perched on the steering wheel. “I need to give this to Everly. She has all this planning to do, I guess, and she said she’d be home today.”
“Sure, that’s fine.”
He rolls his eyes like this is such a bother, but I spot the proud-dad smile on his face. He’s dying to know the gender, but the shower isn’t for another few weeks. Everly literally leaves for Ireland the next day, so I’m sure the girl is crazy busy getting all this done before she goes.
