“Anyway, we finally got the materials for Pepper’s backsplash, and the plumber finally got the pipes in the right place. Honestly, that man can be so dense sometimes. Now that that job is moving along, the Blankenship remodel is about to make me pull my hair out. If Mindy changes her mind one more time about where she wants her refrigerator, I’m going to give her deposit back and tell her to draw up her own plans. Or tell her good luck finding someone to help her make a decision that comes with a guarantee of one hundred percent long-term satisfaction, which is more than I can seem to do for a woman who changes her vision of what she wants every morning when she wakes up. Heck, she changes her mind half a dozen times before lunch every day! Honestly, Cole, sometimes I wonder—”
He cleared his throat to break into the animated monologue. “Excuse me, Stevie, I’m paying attention to what you’re saying, but is there any more of that salsa?”
She was startled into momentary silence before bursting into a peal of rueful laughter. “Poor Cole. I’ve been talking your ears off, haven’t I? I guess I had a lot of words saved up for you. Yes, there’s more salsa in the fridge. I’ll—”
“Sit,” he said when she started to rise. “I’ll get it. Go on with what you were saying. Do you think you’ll ever be able to please Mrs. Blankenship?”
“I’m sure I will. Maybe. With luck.”
After returning to the table, he leaned down to brush a kiss at the corner of her mouth, his lips warm and spicy against her skin. She all but shivered in response to his touch. It seemed like more than a mere few days since she’d felt it.
He gave her shoulder a little squeeze before releasing her to take his seat. “I like hearing your stories. And knowing that maybe you missed me a little while I was away.”
“More than a little.” She hoped her smile looked natural. “Like that old song says, I’ve grown accustomed to your face.”
He laughed, and as always the sound pleased her. “I’m glad.” He dipped a tortilla chip into the spicy homemade salsa. “I’ve gotten pretty accustomed to yours, too. So, what’s the next step with Mrs. Blankenship?”
As far as romantic exchanges went, that one had hardly been the most lyrical she’d ever participated in. Yet still she’d taken it to heart. Which only showed how little it took to please her when it came to Cole. What, exactly, did that say about her growing feelings for him? And how could she tell if he felt the same when he kept his emotions so very well concealed behind that sexy, unrevealing smile?
A couple hours later she watched with a thrill of anticipation as he emerged from the master bathroom and into the bedroom where she waited for him. She’d turned off the overhead light, leaving the room lit only by the lamp on the nightstand. Cole’s bare chest gleamed in that soft glow as he approached the bed wearing only boxer shorts. His broad shoulders and firm muscles were outlined by shadows, and his dark eyes glittered like polished onyx as he studied her with a smile.
He turned out the light before climbing in beside her, plunging the room into darkness but leaving that image of him very clear in her mind. She folded herself into his eager arms, her mouth meeting his in a kiss that clearly established how much she’d missed him in their bed as well as at their dinner table. And though Cole wasn’t one to express himself with words, he was breathtakingly efficient at conveying with his hands and lips how pleased he was to be back.
He trailed a string of openmouthed kisses from her mouth to her temple, from the soft indention behind her ear to the pulsing hollow of her throat. His big, warm hand cupped her left breast through her thin nightgown, his thumb rotating lazily over the nipple. She arched in reaction.
“Too sensitive?” he asked in a low rumble, lifting his thumb.
Catching his hand, she pressed it down again. “Feels good,” she murmured, tangling her smooth legs with his longer, hair-roughened limbs.
He lowered his head, tugging the deep neckline of the gown out of the way so his mouth could find that achingly distended nub. With exquisite tenderness, he caressed it with his lips and with strokes of his tongue drew it into his mouth, then released it and soothed it with a rub of his closed mouth before he turned his attention to its jealous twin. His hand slid down her side, appreciatively shaping her changing form before finding the hem of her gown and slipping beneath it to stroke the heated depths he discovered there.
She gasped and plunged her hands into his hair. His thick, springy, beautiful hair. She held his head at her breasts, parted her legs to allow him full access to her secrets, lifted herself against him in a way that made it very clear how much she wanted him. She’d never been shy about her sexuality, but Cole had a talent for taking her to heights of sensation she’d never imagined, and she was impatient to find out just how high they could climb together.
When the last shred of patience evaporated, she shoved at his shoulders until he tumbled laughing on his bed against the pillows. Boxers and nightgown hit the floor and she straddled him, bracing herself with her hands on his solid shoulders. Her eyes had adjusted to the darkness now and she could just see him there against the white linens, grinning up at her with a flash of white teeth that gave her a glimpse of the warrior hidden deep inside this self-proclaimed computer nerd. And as always, that tantalizing peek made her even hungrier for more.
His hands on her hips, her hair falling around them, their moans and murmurs blending as their bodies merged, they reached that dazzling summit together, clinging there for as long as they could draw it out before they plunged almost simultaneously over the edge into a maelstrom of mindless sensation. Collapsing into his strong arms afterward, she wasn’t sure she’d ever catch another full breath or form another coherent sentence, but at the moment, she just didn’t care.
She was so glad to have him back home.
* * *
The doctor’s appointment the following Monday went well. With the exception of slightly elevated blood pressure, Stevie was pronounced healthy, as was the baby. Though she’d been seeing the doctor only once a month until then, she was instructed to come in every other week from that point on. Dr. Prescott didn’t seem overly concerned about the blood pressure reading, but she said they should monitor it closely just to be on the safe side. Stevie didn’t argue.
“You were right,” Cole said as he drove them away from the appointment. “I liked your doctor very much.”
“I thought you would. She’s great.”
He was frowning a little when he asked, “Do you have a history of high blood pressure?”
“No. But it’s okay. She said it’s probably nothing to worry about, remember? It wasn’t much higher than usual. How cool was it when she said those funny little feelings I’ve noticed during the past week are probably the baby kicking? I mean, I thought it could be, but they were just little flutters, not like real kicks yet, so I wasn’t completely sure. But she said it’s very likely that’s what I’m feeling and it should start getting strong and it won’t be long until you’ll be able to feel it from the outside. And they’re doing the next ultrasound in just four more weeks and we should be able to tell the gender by then so we can start narrowing down our list of names and it’s all just so exciting.”
He chuckled and she realized she’d let her enthusiasm carry her away for the moment. “Sorry. I know you heard her say all of that. I’m just glad the checkup went well. I get nervous every time beforehand.”
“I noticed,” he said, and she made a little face as she remembered how restless she’d been that morning, pacing through the house and checking the clock every few minutes until it was time to leave. “You were too nervous to eat much this morning. Want to stop for a bite somewhere?”
She tilted her head in consideration, then nodded. “Actually, I’m starving. You know what sounds good? Sushi.”
“Aren’t you supposed to avoid—”
“I know, raw fish is a bad idea in pregnancy. So maybe I’ll just have udon noodles with chicken. That’s sort of like sushi, right?”
He laughed. “That’s nothing like sushi, other than being from the same country, but okay. We’ll find udon noodles. Whatever you want.”
Whatever you want. He said those words a lot, she mused, thoughtfully twisting a lock of hair. Sometimes she still felt as if their relationship was very uneven, as though she were the one getting most of the benefits while he was the one doing the bulk of the giving. That was still hard for her to get used to.
Someday, she promised herself, she’d find a way to do something special for Cole, other than preparing good meals for him and trying to make a nice home with him.
They chose to dine at a small Asian fusion chain restaurant located in a midtown shopping center. It was a popular destination for workday lunch crowds, and though it was a bit later than the work rush, the place was still busy. They’d just spotted an available two-top and Cole had pulled out a chair for Stevie when a woman said his name.
“Cole? I thought that was you.”
The woman was tall and fit, her skin lightly tanned and her brown hair sun-streaked as if she spent a lot of time outdoors. Something about the way she smiled at Cole made Stevie’s feminine nerve endings tingle in awareness. She had to resist an urge to take a step closer to him. She’d never in her life been the possessive or jealous type. She wondered in bewilderment if pregnancy hormones were messing with her again.
“Oh, hi, Jessica. Nice to see you,” Cole said cordially, his hands still on the back of the chair.
“Sorry you didn’t make it for sparring last week,” she commented. “We missed you there.”
“I was out of town on business. I’ll try to make it next time. Oh, uh, Jessica Lopez, this is my wife, Stevie.”
Stevie noted that the other woman’s gaze slid down to her little baby bump, paused there a moment, then lifted back to her face. Jessica definitely had had a little crush on Cole, and was fully resigned now that nothing would ever come of it.
Because Stevie couldn’t blame any woman for being drawn to Cole, she added a bit more warmth to her voice when she said, “It’s very nice to meet you.”
“Yeah, you, too. See you, Cole.”
Cole motioned Stevie into the chair he still held for her. Drinks were self-serve at this ultracasual place, so he asked what she wanted then went to fetch it while she thought about the little encounter with Jessica.
She doubted Jessica was the only woman who’d been drawn to Cole during the past few years. She was sure he met nice women at his gym, on his business trips, in other everyday pursuits. He’d said he liked being married, but he’d apparently made no effort to court anyone during the five years he’d been single, not until her own situation had spurred him into action. So had he really been satisfied living on his own—or had no one lived up to his memories?
He’d implied on their wedding night that he’d been attracted to her for a while, though he’d done a good job of masking it during their year of platonic friendship. Would he ever have acted on that attraction had it not been for her pregnancy? Could she take encouragement in the fact that he’d chosen to finally change his single status for her, even though it had taken a fairly significant development to prod him into it?
He returned with their drinks and a couple of fortune cookies for after the meal. Their food arrived at almost the same time. Stevie picked up her chopsticks and dug in enthusiastically, making Cole chuckle at her eagerness. “How is it?”
“It’s not sushi, but it’s good, anyway.”
He laughed and picked up his own chopsticks. Maybe for Cole, what they had was all he needed.
Maybe she should take a lesson from him.
* * *
They were able to start on the renovations the Thursday after the doctor’s appointment. Spring was trying its best to shoulder winter out of the way, leading to noisy thunderstorms and one night of severe weather warnings. Considering they lived in the middle of “tornado alley,” they’d decided to install a safe room in the garage while they were remodeling. The addition would add a week to the process but would provide a safe place for their little family to gather in dangerous weather. The shelter was Cole’s idea initially, but Stevie heartily agreed. She’d spent too many nights in her lifetime huddling in a hallway or bathroom waiting for the tornado sirens to stop wailing.
She got a little taste of how he must have felt for the past six weeks when they moved into his house to avoid the mess created by the staircase reconstruction in her hallway. She didn’t know where everything was, she bumped her shins on the furniture when the lights were off, the mattress on his bed felt different and her clothes were crowded into the extra space he made for her. It was a nice house, but it wasn’t home. Maybe it was a good thing Cole didn’t get attached to houses and possessions, she reflected ruefully. He’d adjusted much more easily to being surrounded by someone else’s things than she would have. Even Dusty seemed to handle displacement better!
“When we get settled back into our house,” she said as she and Cole sat at the kitchen table for dinner the second night, “we need to integrate your things there more. Are there any special pieces of furniture you want to move over? I’m sure we can make a place for anything you’d like to keep.”
He glanced around as if the option had never occurred to him. “I’ll keep my desk and office chair, of course. But all my work stuff will fit into the new office.”
“What about any other furniture you particularly like?” He didn’t possess more than the basics, and she hadn’t noticed anything that looked as though it might be an heirloom, but maybe there was something that had sentimental attachment to him.
“Not really, no. Your stuff is nicer. We can have a tag sale with mine or rent the house furnished.”
“You don’t have any mementos from childhood or college stashed in boxes somewhere? Things you want to keep?”
“I have a box in my closet with a few things like that,” he said, slicing into the smothered pork chop she’d cooked for him. “It’s not very big. I’ll keep it in the closet of the new office.”
She suspected those private treasures were things that had belonged to Natasha. She certainly didn’t mind him hanging on to them. She would never be so petty that she would want him to forget his first wife or the few years he’d been allowed with her. It occurred to her that she’d never even seen a photograph of Natasha. Cole kept no framed photos out for display.
Had there been passion in his marriage? Had he and Natasha ever lost their tempers or even quarreled? He’d said she was very ill for some time. Had forewarning eased his loss, or had the grief been raw and devastating? Did it still tear at him sometimes, or had he packed those emotions away with that box in his closet?
“Stevie?” She glanced up to find him watching her quizzically from the other side of the table. “What’s wrong? Are you feeling okay?”
She smiled reassuringly. “I’m fine. Just thinking about all we have to do during the next few weeks.”
“Oh.” That seemed to satisfy him. “Don’t worry, it’ll get done. I’ve got some free time tomorrow. Thought I’d work in the nursery while the crew’s dealing with the staircase.”
He’d volunteered to take care of emptying the small bedroom in preparation for the new nursery furniture they’d ordered. The walls had a few dents and nail holes to patch and the trim needed to be taped off before he could apply the rich cream color she’d chosen for the walls.
“Isn’t there anything I can do for you here?” she asked. “Things I can pack or sort or something? I want to help as much as possible with this transition.”
Finishing his dinner, he carried his dishes to the sink, collecting hers on the way. “I guess you could sort my closet some if you get bored. It’s been a while since I’ve been through my wardrobe and I suspect some of the stuff in there needs to go straight into a donations bin.”
From what she’d seen, his wardrobe consisted mostly of pullovers and jeans for working at home, with a couple of sport coats and dress shirts and slacks—and a few of the hated ties, she thought with a smile. “I’ll look through your things and make a pile of items that could be questionable, though I’d never get rid of anything without checking with you.”
He shrugged. “Wouldn’t bother me. If you’d be embarrassed to be seen with me wearing anything you find in there, toss it.”
“I’d never be embarrassed to be seen with you,” she assured him, rising to refill her water glass.
“Oh, yeah? Not even if I do this?” He mugged a classic horror-movie-Igor pose, hunching a shoulder, dragging an arm, making a silly face.
Delighted with his rare lapse into absurdity, she gave a peal of laughter and tousled his hair. “Not even then. You’re such a cutie.”
Growling, he straightened and caught her in his arms. “There’s that word again. I keep telling you, I’d rather you see me as manly and sexy.”
He never forgot anything, she thought with another laugh. Wrapping her arms around his neck, she went up on tiptoes and brushed a kiss over his smiling mouth. “What a coincidence,” she murmured. “That’s exactly the way I see you. Most of the time.”
Chuckling, he drew her into a heated kiss that definitely made this one of those times.
* * *
The first Sunday in April was Easter, and the day dawned clear and pleasantly moderate. Stevie dressed for church in a shades-of-purple graphic print dress, then checked her reflection. She was quite obviously pregnant now and made no effort to hide it. Actually, it was a relief that she was blossoming so quickly, as it meant her little Peanut was growing and thriving. The baby’s movements were more frequent and noticeable now and she looked forward to Cole feeling the baby kick for the first time.
Everything seemed to be going so well that she was almost afraid she’d do something to jinx her good fortune. She wasn’t used to feeling so relaxed in a relationship. She didn’t have to walk on eggshells around Cole’s ego, didn’t have to second-guess her decisions or worry about plans being canceled last-minute or agreements being carelessly broken. When Cole said he’d do something or be somewhere, she could place a sizable bet on it.
She slid her feet into low-heeled shoes, her thoughts still focused on her marriage. She had to admit that so far it was going even better than she’d imagined it would the day they’d exchanged their vows. She wouldn’t change a thing about their relationship. Except, perhaps...
No. Stop this, Stevie, before you jinx it, after all.
Ironically enough, she was aware that her biggest concern about her marriage was that it was too pleasant. And that Cole seemed to be trying too hard to keep it that way.
She’d never seen Cole come even close to losing control of his emotions, she thought, twisting a strand of hair. Her own had always been so close to the surface that she couldn’t imagine how he managed. He was certainly passionate here in the bedroom, but even then his lovemaking always focused as much on her pleasure as his. She’d seen irritation—with his father, with annoying business associates—but never temper. Was it because he didn’t feel things as intensely as she did, or had his childhood with a critical and emotionally distant father convinced Cole that a “real man” didn’t acknowledge vulnerability?
Wouldn’t it be only natural for him to get mad once in a while? Was it healthy, either emotionally or physically, for him to suppress anger if he felt it? Jenny and Tess certainly spatted occasionally with their guys, yet there was no doubt they were deeply in love and blissfully happy.
In love. She winced at the phrase. She wasn’t comparing her relationship with those of her friends, of course. She and Cole had come at this with different needs than theirs. She simply wanted to make sure all his needs were being fulfilled. He was certainly taking care of hers.
“Stevie?”
In response to his voice from the doorway, she roused from her thoughts and turned toward him with a bright smile. “I’m ready.”
Something about his expression made her stop and tilt her head to study him more closely. He looked great in the jacket and tie he’d donned for the holiday. But one hand was hidden behind his back and his face was as close to sheepish as she’d ever seen it.
“What is it?” she asked curiously. “Have you changed your mind about going to church with me? Because that’s certainly—”
“No, I want to go. I just—” Shaking his head a little, he brought his hand around. “I know it’s a little silly, but I thought you might like this.”
A little green wicker basket decorated with a green-and-white gingham bow dangled from his big fingers. Within the basket, a white stuffed bunny with floppy ears, big feet and an adorably sweet face sat on top of an assortment of her favorite specialty chocolates.
Stevie found it suddenly difficult to talk around a hard lump in her throat. Still, she managed to ask, “You brought me an Easter basket?”
“Yes. With your house all torn up and your schedule disrupted, I thought you’d like a little treat for Easter. I know you like these chocolates, so...”
His uncharacteristically self-conscious words faded into silence, leaving him looking almost shy as he held out the little basket to her. Stevie blinked back a film of tears when she accepted it from him. If she burst into sobs over his gesture, she was sure he would blame it on pregnancy hormones, and he would probably be right, for the most part. But it really was so sweet that her heart ached a bit.
* * *
“Can you see it?” Holding a cold metal wand pressed to Stevie’s tummy, the sonographer looked with an indulgent smile from Stevie on the bed to Cole standing beside her. “Do you need me to show you?”
As curious as Cole was about what he’d see on the monitor, he was unable for a moment to tear his gaze away from Stevie’s face. Her eyes looked bigger and bluer than ever, her beautiful mouth was curved into a smile of such joy he felt his throat tighten in response. She was beautiful. And she was his, he thought with a surge of utterly male satisfaction.
She looked quickly from the screen to him and then back again. Her voice was breathy with excitement when she asked, “That’s— It’s a boy, right? That’s a boy?”
The sonographer laughed, obviously enjoying her job no matter how many times she’d watched this reveal. “Yes, it’s a boy. And he looks very healthy. Congratulations.”
Stevie looked at Cole again with an expression radiant with wonder. “A boy, Cole. We’re having a boy!”
He squeezed her hand, then impulsively raised it to his lips. Her fingers curled tightly around his. A hard knot formed in his throat when he looked back at the monitor with a knot in his throat.
A boy. For some reason, he’d been absolutely certain that Stevie was having a girl. As the past few weeks had swept by in a daze of work, construction, plans and commitments, the image had grown stronger in his mind of a little blonde girl with big blue eyes and a dimpled smile, a tiny clone of Stevie. He was very comfortable picturing himself as the father of that little girl. Helping her learn to walk. Holding her steady as she rode her first bike. Showing her constellations and planets, bugs and microbes. Teaching her how to drive, scowling off would-be suitors, maybe someday walking her down the aisle as no one had been there to do for Stevie. But a boy...
He studied the face in the ultrasound image, wondering if this little guy would have Stevie’s curly hair and blue eyes. Looks didn’t matter so much to him. He was more concerned with overcoming his own complex father-son issues and forming a bond with this boy. And for the first time in weeks, he was beset by doubts of his qualifications for the job.
“So now we’re going to have to decide on a boy’s name,” Stevie announced happily when they were buckled into the car and he drove out of the clinic parking lot. “I’ve got a list started, but it has like fifty names on it already and every time I think I’ve narrowed it down a little I hear another name that’s interesting enough to add to the list, so it’s just getting longer instead of shorter. I’ve been keeping the nursery as neutral as possible with the classic children’s tales artwork and the sage-and-cream color scheme, so nothing changes there, but now we can buy a few outfits because as much as I believe in equality, I just can’t put a little boy in a lacy dress. I think in some ways I always knew he was a boy, even back when I first started calling him Peanut, which of course I won’t do after we choose a name because heaven knows he wouldn’t want that nickname to stick.”
“No, he probably—”
“I have to text Jenny and Tess. I told them I’d let them know as soon as we left the clinic. They’re almost as excited as we are to find out. And my mom and my brother want to know as soon as possible and I know your mother is eager to hear the news, so we’ll have to make lots of calls and texts this evening. What about your dad? Are you going to call him?”
Cole’s fingers tightened around the steering wheel. “Probably not.”
She squirmed around in her seat to face him, surprise breaking into her excitement-fueled chattering. “You don’t think he’d want to know the baby’s gender?”
“Who knows with my dad?”
“You have told him I’m pregnant, haven’t you?”
He cleared his throat. “I’ve only talked to him once since we dropped by there in February, just for a routine six-week check to see how he’s doing. The subject didn’t come up.”
There was a moment of shocked silence, and then her snort made her exasperation quite clear. “Honestly, Cole, you’re almost as stubborn as he is. I know your dad was hard on you with his strict, narrow definition of masculinity, but has it occurred to you that maybe the prospect of being a grandfather would soften him up a little? That happens, you know, even with grumpy old men. It should especially please him that he’ll have a grandson.”
“So he can browbeat the boy the way he did me? Sigh at him when he cries or scowl at him if he doesn’t want to tramp through the woods to kill a deer? I’m not going to let those things happen to this kid.”
“We’d never let him do that. But if we establish clear boundaries and your dad follows them, maybe it would be good for both of them. I never knew my paternal grandfather and my mother’s dad died when I was too young to remember him, but I always wished I had a grandpa if I couldn’t have a dad. You and I could give our son both. You said you were close with your grandfather, and I’m sure he was pretty old-fashioned, too.”
“He was,” Cole conceded, thinking back to his hardworking, cattle farmer Pops. “He was strict, gave me plenty of rules and chores, but he wasn’t as hard to please as my dad. Pops and I got along pretty well for the most part.”
“And how was his relationship with his son?”
“Strained,” Cole admitted slowly. “He got along better with his younger son, my uncle Bob. Pops didn’t approve of Dad’s marriage to my mother—rightly so, as it turned out—and he wasn’t a fan of the way they kept putting me in the middle of their fights. He wasn’t tactful with my father about his opinions, and Dad never took criticism well.”
“Maybe your dad will find a soft spot for this little boy. Shouldn’t we at least try to find out?”
“I’ll think about it,” he conceded grudgingly. “But frankly I’m tired of being the one to do all the reaching out. Dad knows my number. Wouldn’t hurt him to call me every once in a while just to see if I’m still alive.”
He shook his head before she could argue more. “Let’s not talk about Dad now. This is too special a day. Why don’t we celebrate this news by stopping by the baby store and picking up some more things for the kid? We’re still looking for a stroller, right? Have you decided whether you want a three-wheel or four-wheel model?”
They’d done hours of research together on nearly everything they’d purchased to this point, reading all the safety records and brand comparisons they could find. He was pleased that Stevie wanted his opinions. Granted, he didn’t know much about baby stuff, but he was damned good at research.
Stevie was enthused about shopping for the baby now that she knew more about him, and Cole was glad he’d made the suggestion. It was a sunny, warm spring day. He and Stevie had both been working so hard lately that it was nice to have a couple of daylight hours just to relax together. Maybe he’d talk her into a milkshake, which probably wouldn’t be hard. She had a notorious weakness for chocolate milkshakes, and couldn’t imagine why anyone—specifically, he—would want to ruin a perfectly good cup of ice cream with chunks of pineapple.
He was glad to see her happily chattering and laughing, so excited about learning more about the baby who’d be joining them in just over three months. She’d been a little more subdued than usual for the past few weeks—since Easter, really. He blamed it on all the turmoil in their lives. Stevie was accustomed to construction snafus and delays on her design jobs, but having the same things going on in her own home was more stressful, especially combined with the emotional roller coaster of pregnancy.
It still bemused him that she had such a strong attachment to her house. The place was certainly adequate for their needs, increasingly so as the attic renovation and storm shelter came closer to being finished, but he figured they’d have been able to find plenty of other houses just as functional. Maybe it was because he’d been shuttled so often from house to house as a kid that he didn’t have as strong a sense of “home” as she did. For him, home was now wherever Stevie was. Didn’t matter much where that happened to be. At least he had the satisfaction of knowing she missed him now when he wasn’t in her beloved house with her.
“Are you sure you’ll be okay when I’m away next week?” he asked as he parked in front of the baby store. “I can always try to change the meetings to conference calls if you—”
“Cole,” she interrupted with a laugh and an affectionate pat on his arm. “You’re starting to sound like Gavin. I’ll be fine for a few days on my own, I promise.”
He regretted missing next week’s doctor’s appointment, but this trip was rather important. He’d already made it clear to all involved that he wouldn’t be traveling for a couple months after the baby arrived, so he was trying to take care of some things ahead of time. “You’ll let me know if your blood pressure has gone up again? You’ll tell the doctor you’ve had a couple of headaches in the past week?”
“Both of which occurred when I got busy and forgot to eat lunch on time,” she reminded him. “Totally my fault. And I’ve been paying more attention to my schedule now that you set my phone to nag me about lunchtime. Haven’t had a headache since. And my blood pressure has been stable the last two visits, so I think you can stop worrying about that, too.”
He nodded slowly as he opened his door. Her blood pressure hadn’t gone back down to prepregnancy levels, but it wasn’t rising, either, so he guessed that was good. But that wouldn’t stop him from worrying. Nothing would.