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Her husky laugh warmed him, tightening his chest a moment. “And the two of us?”
“Elizabeth and Darcy for sure.” The flare of pleasure in her eyes made him grin. Maybe he hadn’t read the godawful book for nothing. “You’re smart and savvy, and I’m the dumbass who had to let you go to realize what he was throwing away.”
“That is brilliantly romantic, Lamar.” Her delighted laugh faded into a solemn expression. “I’m so pleased to have you back.”
The back of his eyes burned, and he clenched his jaw, mouth tight. He leaned forward, holding her gaze, deep green and glowing with emotion. “I want to kiss you so bad right now, Falconetti.”
A slow smile curved her full mouth, sultry, impish, and absolutely gorgeous. “Later. Perhaps at the dry cleaners or the market.”
He pursed his lips, like she presented him with pure temptation, which she always did. “Maybe at the mailbox, getting the mail. We can scandalize the neighborhood.”
Still smiling, she shook her head. “I love you.”
Leaning back, he saluted her with his coffee. “I adore you.”
And he damn well would walk that out.
Chapter Eleven
Look After You
Checking in at her OBGYN was the same as always, but years had passed since she’d had to mark the prenatal box upon sign-in. She went through the familiar routine — digital paperwork, urine sample, sit and wait, leaf through a magazine.
Her phone buzzed.
Eugenia is Italian
She muffled a laugh behind her hand.
No
I do like Emilia
And that evoked a smile. She liked Emilia, too, and the sweetness of this, having him slowly come back to her, make a real effort to be the husband he’d been . . . she was happy.
It might be a boy, Calvert.
Don't have to worry about boy names. Got that covered
Of course he did.
“Caitlin?” Sara, one of the nurses, smiled at her from the door, stopping her fingers mid-reply.
Holy Mother, if they had a son, Tick would want to call him Gene.
Gathering her tote and her thoughts, she followed Sara, submitting to a weigh-in as well as a temperature and blood pressure check.
“A first prenatal visit.” Sara’s smile widened as she noted Caitlin’s vitals and folded the cuff away. “Are you excited?”
“Excited is a big word. Eva is almost eight, and we didn’t plan this.” She feathered a loose lock of hair behind her ear. “How’s surprised?”
“Surprised works.” Sara laughed. “There’s a ten year gap between my second and third children. Surprised was an understatement. Listen, get undressed and into the gown, open in the front, and Alice will be right in.”
She stripped and donned the gown, draping the sheet over her knees. She shivered, as much from the chilly room as from the reality surrounding her — photos of babies on the wall, charts of fetal development. That part of her life had been done. Now it was here again, without any discussion or decision on their part.
Excited?
Somehow she’d made it through the initial shock, and she was accepting the reality of this, another round of parenting.
