Big Girls Do It Pregnant by Jasinda Wilder Page A

for you back.”
    “Well, it’s not like I’m keeping score, you know. I did it because I wanted to. You came to visit me, and I can’t tell you how much that means to me. I know you’re insane with this tour, so I know how much it took to take the time away.” I smirked at him. “But if you’re that worried, you can just keep a tally of how many orgasms I give you, and when I’m cleared for sex, you can pay me back.”
    Chase nodded seriously. “Okay, then. A tally system it is.” He dug his phone out of his hip pocket, swiped it open, and tapped the yellow notepad app.  
    I laughed as he wrote “Orgasm Tally Card” on the top line. He spaced down a line and wrote the numeral 1 on the next. “I was actually joking, Chase. It’s not a who’s-come-the-most competition, babe.”
    “It is now.” He pushed his phone back into his pocket. “So how have you been passing the time, my love?”
    I laughed again, this time more in deprecation. “Poorly. I’m bored out of my fucking skull, Chase. I’m restless. Antsy. I’ve never spent this much time being lazy in my life.”
    “It’s not laziness, Jay.” Chase squeezed me against his side. “It’s doctor-ordered bed rest. You’re the least lazy woman I know.”  
    “Nice try, babe, but that’s not how it feels to me.” I sighed. “All I do is sit on my ass, watching Netflix and knitting.”
    Chase guffawed. “Knitting? You? Since when do you knit ?”
    I frowned at him. “Why couldn’t I knit? Maybe you just didn’t know I did.”
    He rolled his eyes. “You don’t knit, Jay. You just don’t. No more than I do.”
    I glared at him, more offended than I had a right to be, since my reaction when Kelly first suggested it wasn’t too far from Chase’s. “I do too knit. Now, at least.” I reached over the side of the couch and set my knitting bag on his lap.  
    A stunned expression on his face, he rummaged in the bag, pulling out my pillow/case hat, the holey scarf of shitty knitting, and my latest project, one sock out of the pair for Chase. “Damn, Jay, you have been knitting.” He held up the pillowcase/hat, clearing his throat in an effort to not laugh. “Um…honey? What is this?”
    I snatched it from him. “Shut up, you. It’s a hat. Or a pillowcase. It can be both, if it wants to.”
    Chase took it back and set it on his head. His entire face was obscured by the multicolored yarn. “A hat?”
    I snatched it off his head. “For a Rasta. To cover his dreads.”
    Chase laughed harder. “Do you even know any Rastas? And he’d have to have, like, the biggest, longest, thickest dreads ever for this thing to fit.”
    I smashed it onto his head and pulled it down over his face. “Shut up. It was the first thing I tried making. I’ve only been doing this for, like, a week.” I grabbed a square throw pillow and stuffed it into the hat; it fit, barely, and the corners poked through the holes, stretching it to ridiculous proportions. “It’s harder than you might think.”
    “I’m not making fun of you, baby. I promise. It’s just…it’s funny.” Chase pulled out the scarf next and wrapped it around his neck, posing and batting his eyelashes. “Does it go with my outfit?”
    “Now you’re just being a dick.” I took the bag from him and dug in it until I found the one sock I’d finished. “I did make you something, but you probably don’t want it now, since I’m such a crappy knitter.”
    Chase laughed and kissed the nape of my neck, knowing how that melted me. “I do want it, baby. I’m just teasing. I’m sorry.”
    I handed him the sock. “It’s a sock. I’ve only finished one.”
    Chase’s face twisted in his effort to not laugh. “Um. It’s a sock?” He coughed, trying gamely to keep a straight face. “A sock for me?”
    He unlaced his boot and tugged it off, then held the sock up to his foot. I had to hold back a snicker myself as I saw the thing I’d made against his foot. The sock was a cylindrical tube,