Page 277 of Show Me

“I know.” She tilts her head against my shoulder as I rest my palm over her rounded belly. “But I still think about it.”

“Me too.”

“Boy or girl?”

I shrug. “Either.”

“Same.” A beat passes. Then…. “If it’s a girl,” Ruby says thoughtfully, “she’s definitely inheriting your attitude.”

I look down at her. “My attitude?”

“You’re bossy.”

I kiss the top of her head. “You stole my blanket last night.”

“It became our blanket.”

“That’s not how theft works.”

Ruby grins against my shoulder. “You survived.”

“Barely.” She laughs again and shifts farther beneath the throw blanket draped across the couch. Most of it disappears onto her side. I stare at the remaining three inches covering my leg. “You’re doing it again.”

“Doing what?”

“Committing blanket crimes.”

Her eyes twinkle with mock innocence. “There are no laws on Christmas.”

“Convenient.”

She snuggles deeper against me with no shame. Squirt grunts loudly beside the fireplace. Traitor. I shake my head, reposition her against the sofa cushions, and place her feet on my lap.

“What’re you doing?”

“Your feet are freezing.”

“They’re fine.”

“They’re ice cubes.”

She makes a suspiciously happy sound when I start rubbing slow circles along the arch of her foot. “Okay,” she mutters. “That’s nice.”

“I know.”

“You’re smug tonight.”

“You stole my blanket.”

“Shared blanket.”

I laugh under my breath while her eyes drift half shut against the cushions. Relaxed. Safe. Happy. I didn’t know life could feel like this. Not really. Not until her.

Ruby turns her head and kisses me. Warm. Lazy. Content. Nothing desperate about it anymore. Just us.

My hand slides along her calf beneath the blanket while her fingers curl against my chest.

“You know,” she murmurs against my mouth, “you’d probably survive if the baby likes me better.”