I slept for a few hours after I left Noah’s and then I was up, scouring the books I’d borrowed from Jordan.
An hour into it, I was even more confused than I had been. Who knew kids were this complex? I’d figured I had to work on feeding it and keeping it alive, making sure it was happy and didn’t turn into an asshole. But no. There was all this stuff about parenting styles and sleep training, and if I’d thought learning to fly the F-16 was tough, this was fucking unreal.
I grabbed my cell, dialing Dani’s number, remembering my conversation with Noah last night. I wasn’t going to push, had meant what I said about not putting pressure on Dani, but I fully intended to be there for her, to show her we could be more than friends, to prove I was the right man for her and the baby.
She answered the phone right away.
“So are we going to be authoritarian or indulgent parents?” I asked her.
Laughter filled the line.
“You’re reading parenting books.”
“I am, although I gotta admit I don’t know if they’re making any of this clearer. Did you know this sleep training thing was such a big deal?”
“I’d like to say yes and pretend I did, but honestly, no, not really. Where did you get the books?”
“I borrowed them from Noah and Jordan.”
“So you told him?”
“Yeah, I did. He didn’t know; I guess Jordan never mentioned it to him.”
“How did he handle the news?” Dani asked, worry in her voice.
“He was surprised, but supportive. Really supportive. He’s happy for us, and he’s excited to play Uncle Noah.”
“Good.” She exhaled. “I was worried.”
“I know, but I promise it’ll be okay. Do you trust me?”
“Yeah.”
“Then don’t worry.”
Silence filled the line.
“Dani?”
“I’m nodding.”
I grinned. “Good. So on this parenting thing—can’t we put the kid to bed when it’s tired?”
“You would think, right? Apparently it needs sleep training and a schedule.”
“And some magic beans?”
She laughed.
“So I’m not the only one totally baffled by this?”
“Nope.”
“Thank you. I was beginning to think there was something wrong with me,” I teased. “So how are you feeling?”
“Good.” I heard the sound of sheets rustling on the other end of the line. “Just waking up.”
God, the mental image of her in bed had my dick twitching. I swallowed, fighting the rush of arousal and the urge to reach down and fist my cock.
“Did you sleep okay?” I croaked, stifling a groan.
“Yeah, I did. Before I was pregnant I could get by on five hours of sleep, but now I have to have eight or I’m a mess the next day.”
“What do you have planned for the weekend?” I asked, trying to get my mind out of the gutter.
“Not much. Taking it easy. I’m starting to get to the point where I want to look at baby stuff, but at the same time I’m a little wary to start this early.”
I couldn’t blame her after the last time she’d been pregnant and the miscarriage she’d suffered. She’d said everything was fine with the pregnancy, but I’d definitely feel better about it after going to her doctor’s appointment with her.
“Can I come over today? To hang out? Maybe talk a bit.”
A pause filled the other end of the line. “I’d like that.”
“Awesome. Is there anything you want me to bring over? Pickles? Ice cream? Sprinkle donuts?”
She laughed. “Have you been reading up on pregnancy cravings?”
“Yeah, maybe a little bit. Seriously, though, is there anything you want?”
“Barbecue chips.”
I grinned at how quickly she answered me and the eagerness in her voice.
“Done. Anything else?”
“No, that’s it. I’ll let you know if I come up with anything else. Thanks.”
“No problem. See you in a bit.”
I hung up the phone with Dani, already reassured. I’d meant what I told Noah—I wanted this to work between us. The best way to make that happen was to do everything I could to make Dani happy and comfortable, to take care of her and the baby. Food runs were the easiest thing in the world.
I jumped in the shower and got dressed in record time, already excited over the prospect of seeing her again. I’d tried not to dwell on how much I missed her while I was deployed, worried if I did the three months would simply be unbearable, but now I was back and she was in my life, and I wanted to savor every moment together.
I left the house and drove to the closest grocery store, the car windows rolled down, rock music blaring. I’d missed driving when I was downrange, missed the freedom of getting into my car and going wherever I wanted, missed having a Saturday to myself. As much as I loved to fly, it was nice to not have a mission ahead of me, to sit back and enjoy the fresh air.
I bought Dani a couple bags of barbecue chips, not sure which was her favorite, and then I was back on the road, heading to her place. Ten minutes later I’d parked in her driveway and stood on her doorstep, chips in hand.
Dani answered with a smile, her gaze drifting to the shopping bags in my hand. “My hero.”
I laughed, leaning forward and giving her a hug, inhaling the familiar scent of her, savoring the soft curves.
“Glad I could help.”
She stood back, gesturing for me to cross over the threshold. She shut the door behind me and led me into the living room. I sat down on the couch while she went to the kitchen and put the chips away, my gaze running over the room, cataloging all the changes since I’d been here last.
“It looks good.”
She sighed, sitting down next to me. “Thanks. I’ve done two price drops in the last three months, and it’s still sitting here. I’m beginning to wonder if it’ll ever sell.”
“I’m sorry. The market’s tough right now.”
“Yeah, it is. It makes it harder to decide what I want to do. I was hoping to at least have an idea where I’d be living and have a chance to get settled before the baby came. I don’t want to be nine months pregnant and in the middle of a move or something.”
My stomach clenched at the idea of her and our baby moving. It was a distinct possibility, but I’d hoped we could come up with a better solution. I needed to put my “dream sheet” in and give the Air Force my list of assignment preferences soon, was due to PCS to a new base in ten months or so. Sometimes—rarely—you got the assignment you wanted. More often than not, you were shocked by where you ended up. Right now, making sure they didn’t send me overseas seemed like the top priority. I had no clue if Dani’s pregnancy would give me any options, but I’d do the best I could to see if they would accommodate a domestic PCS. But for now—
“You could always stay with me. I have an extra guest room and bathroom, so there’s plenty of room. I want to help however I can.”
She hesitated for a beat. “Thank you; it does help. It’s nice to know I’m not going through this on my own.”
“You’re not. We should probably talk about this stuff. It’s complicated, but it would help us both to figure out what comes next.”
“Agreed.”
“At some point are you going to set up a nursery here?”
She nodded. “Maybe in the next few months? I guess if the house hasn’t sold by then I’ll hit pause on the whole thing and plan on staying until the baby’s a few months old. Maybe the market will be better by then.”
“That’s a good plan. I can help you with the nursery if you want. Paint, that sort of thing.”
“If it’s a girl, I want to put a chandelier up. Maybe have a mural painted on her wall—a castle or a forest or something.” Her cheeks flushed. “It’s silly to make such a big change for a temporary room, but I saw these pictures online and they looked like something out of a fairy tale. If we have a boy, I saw these really cool vintage children’s book covers that you can frame. I thought that could be fun.”
Her words made me feel like part of the process, and I was no longer on the outside looking in.
“Those are great ideas.” I cleared my throat. “So when’s this doctor’s appointment?”
“To find out the gender?”
“Yeah.”
“In a little over two weeks. On the thirtieth at two. Does that work for you?”
“I’ll be there. Can I pick you up and take you?”
She smiled. “I’d like that. Thanks.”
“I can’t wait to find out if we’re having a boy or girl,” I confessed.
Last night, I’d dreamed we had a daughter. She’d been so tiny, and she’d fit so perfectly in my arms. I’d been terrified to hold her, but Dani had stood next to me, her hand on my arm, and suddenly it was completely natural and so fucking right.
“Me, either. I’ve been dying to find out what we’re having so I can start coming up with names, making plans . . .” Her voice trailed off. “We can start coming up with names,” she corrected.
God, I felt that, too. I hadn’t even thought about names, had figured that was more her arena than mine. I didn’t want to overstep, but at the same time, I wanted to be a hands-on dad.
“It’s cool. As long as you don’t name the kid something horrible, I’m good.”
“Define ‘horrible’?”
I considered it for a moment. “No colors. Or fruit. And honestly, I’m probably not big on place names, either.”
She grinned. “So I guess ‘Kiwi’ is out?”
“I’m going to pray you’re joking.”
“You’ll never know, now will you?” she teased.
I shook my head, a smile playing at my lips.
Curiosity filled me. “What are you hoping for?”
“What do you mean?”
“Do you want it to be a boy or girl?”
“Honestly, I just want a healthy baby.”
“Do you have any Spidey-Sense on what you think it is?”
Dani laughed. “I don’t.” She cocked her head toward me. “Okay, now I’m curious. What do you want it to be? Boy or girl?”
I shrugged. “I hadn’t really thought about it.”
Which was a little true, but also kind of a lie. I didn’t really want to tell her the truth, not yet at least. The truth merely highlighted how utterly in love with her I was.
“Really? I’m surprised. I would have thought you would want a little boy.”
“A boy would be awesome, really awesome. But honestly?” My gaze ran over her face, and the truth came out whether I was ready for it or not. “I want a little girl.”
“A girl?”
I nodded. “Yeah.” Embarrassment filled me, but I gave her the rest. “Maybe with your hair. That’d be cute.”
A flush covered her cheeks. “Seriously?”
“Seriously.” My voice gentled and I didn’t bother trying to keep the emotion out. “A girl who looks exactly like you would be absolutely perfect.”
Dani ducked her head, her eyes cast downward, the curtain of hair obscuring her expression. I wanted to reach out and brush the hair off her face, wanted to caress her skin. I wanted to kiss her so badly I ached.
There was something so intimate about this conversation, a connection between us now that we’d created a life together that hadn’t been there before. We had a piece of each other that would stay with us always. Maybe it was some primal, biological urge, but seeing the woman I loved glow with my baby inside her bound me even more tightly to her. I wanted to get down on my knees and worship her, wanted to lose myself in her, wanted to come together, over and over again.
There was something about Easy that flipped a switch in me every single time; I was sleeping, and then he woke me up.
Hearing him say he wanted a daughter, that he hoped she looked like me, did funny things to my heart. I hadn’t said it, but the truth was if we had a little boy, I imagined him with Easy’s blue eyes, his gorgeous smile, his blond hair, and all his mischievous energy.
It was seriously adorable that he’d already started reading parenting books, and it was amazing to have someone I could talk to about the baby, to no longer go through this on my own. Talking to Jordan was awesome, and she’d been really supportive about the whole thing, but Easy’s excitement matched my own, and it was different knowing we’d be in this baby’s life permanently.
“Do you want to see the first sonogram picture?”
His eyes widened. “Yeah. Of course.”
“I’ll go get it; I’ll be right back.”
I headed into the kitchen, my hand on my belly, and grabbed the photo off the fridge. I walked back into the living room, holding it out to him, a rush of pride filling me.
The image in the picture already looked like a little person, it’s head and belly prominent, little hands and legs just barely discernable.
His fingers trembled as he took the photo from my hands. He didn’t speak. And then he looked up, emotion swimming in his gaze.
“I can’t—” He cleared his throat. “I can’t believe that’s our baby. It’s beautiful. Absolutely beautiful.”
Tears welled in my eyes; I brushed them away. “I’ve probably spent hours staring at that picture. It’s so incredible to see it like that. Apparently the baby is the size of a passion fruit now.”
He laughed. “How do you know that?”
“There are all these websites that can track where you are in your pregnancy and then they convert the baby’s size to fruit sizes.”
“Our little passion fruit,” he mused. “What’s next?”
“Next it’ll be a lemon.” I tried to give him my sternest look. “Do not make any bad puns.”
Easy grinned, stirring another flutter in my heart. “I won’t.”
He hesitated. “Okay, dumb question, but what’s it like?”
“Having a passion fruit inside me?”
A dimple popped out. “Yeah.”
“A little weird,” I admitted. “Cool, but weird.”
“Is it uncomfortable?”
“A bit. Not too bad, though. As far as pregnancy symptoms go I’ve gotten pretty lucky. I’m tired, and a little nauseous, but I haven’t been really sick. A few food cravings, but I haven’t woken up in the middle of the night with an urgent need for pickles and ice cream. The aversions are stronger than anything. My grocery trips involve me going down the aisles thinking of all the foods I don’t want to eat. My back hurts occasionally, and my feet have been strangely sore, but from the stories I’ve read online it could be way worse.”
Those books were filled with horror story after horror story—hair in strange places, extreme pain, things coming out of your body. Each one freaked me out more and more, until finally I’d forced myself to skim the “body changes” sections. Let Mother Nature surprise me.
“If your feet hurt, do you want me to rub them?”
I blinked. He might as well have asked me if I wanted to spread margarine all over my body and then have him lick it off.
“I’ll pass, but thanks.”
He cocked his head, his eyes dancing with amusement as he studied me. “Why do you look like I suggested something utterly depraved? I offered to rub your toes, not suck them.”
God, his voice sounded way too enticing saying the phrase “utterly depraved,” even as I recoiled at the idea of his mouth anywhere near my toes. Other parts of my body, though . . .
“Feet are gross. And private.”
He gave me a knowing look that said it all—he’d already been inside me; any barriers that might have existed between us had pretty much been eradicated the second he saw me naked.
“You know what I mean,” I muttered, feeling my cheeks flush again.
“Come on. It’s not a big deal. They’re just feet. Put them in my lap.” He wiggled his eyebrows, adopting a playfully wicked expression that knocked the air out of me.
Easy was lethal on a normal day, but when he played around, he was pretty much irresistible.
“No,” I squealed, my protests growing fainter by the moment.
I mean, I’d gotten a pedicure a few weeks ago, but I wasn’t sure I wanted Easy, way-too-good-looking-for-his-own-good Easy, to see my feet.
“You’re being silly. Your feet hurt. You’re carrying my baby.” I didn’t miss the pride that shone through his voice. “It’s not a big deal for me to rub your feet.”
This time he didn’t bother waiting. Instead he grabbed my ankles, and before I could even catch my breath he’d slipped my flip-flops off. My toes curled instinctively.
He laughed. “This is really an issue for you, isn’t it?”
“No. Maybe.”
He laughed again, the sound rumbling around in my belly and sending a shock to my body.
“Relax.”
Ah, hell.
His hands settled over my feet, the size difference between us enough that he covered me. He was merely touching my feet, but my body did exactly as he commanded, sinking into his embrace, my eyes fluttering closed as my head fell back on the couch pillow. He began rubbing my feet, his thumbs pressing into the soles, his fingers working their magic, and then I didn’t need him telling me to relax because I was a pool of liquid, sinking into the couch.
“Oh my God.” I bit back a moan. “Seriously, oh my God. Where did you learn how to do that?”
He grinned. “I work with my hands. I have this manual dexterity thing down.”
A moan escaped. A tiny one. “Yeah, you do.”
“Come on. How are you besides the sore feet?” he asked while another punch of lust hit me.
The rest of it was way too personal to share. My boobs were popping out of my bra, I had to pee every ten minutes, and I was horny all the freaking time.
“Okay, I guess.”
“Does anything else ache?”