every day with her another dodged bullet. Nope, he hadn't been in the least surprised when his hand weights sailed out the window and bounced off his book onto the lawn.
However, he hadn't expected another chance three months ago, a chance he'd blown. A mistake he wouldn't repeat. Which meant no jumping Rena in the kitchen.
Her eyes flashed with inspiration. She snatched a pudding pack from the refrigerator door. "Cravings."
"Like before."
"Textbook." She limped to the minuscule kitchenette table. Sighing, she sagged into a seat, swinging her injured foot up onto one of the other chairs. "Hope you don't want any pudding, because this is the last one, so you'll have to pry it out of my hormonally tight grip."
J.T. kicked the refrigerator shut. He dropped into a chair across from her and watched her savor alternating bites of chili and chocolate pudding. She licked the spoon clean every time. Rapture spread across her face.
His knuckles itched to glide across her high cheekbones as a prelude to kissing away the chocolate on the corner of her mouth. Damn, she was beautiful. "I can't believe I missed it."
"Missed what?"
He shook his head at his own blindness the past few months. "That you're pregnant."
He let himself reach, touch just his thumb to the corner of her lush lips.
Ducking his touch, she grabbed for a napkin. "Because I'm eating like a pig? Thanks. I'm now totally reassured you don't want to come back home or you would have never made that comment."
Her hands fell to her stomach. His hungry eyes followed her gesture to the slight swell. He could almost feel the taut skin over the growing proof of their child. Had in fact felt it in days past when she'd carried their other children.
Would he be allowed to feel the roll of their baby under his hand this time? "Lower the hackles. I wasn't commenting on the food."
"Oh, uh, well, you probably didn't notice because I wore loose clothes."
If ever he'd needed the Bard's way with words, it was now. He'd just have to settle for simple honesty.
"That still isn't what I meant." He angled closer, elbows on the table. "You know I'm not much of a guy for woo-hoo stuff. But that pregnancy-glow thing—there must be something scientific to it. I mean, hell, Rena, you've been in a wreck. Suffered a concussion. Damn near broke your foot, and you're still glowing so bright I could read by it."
Not an intimate touch to her tummy, but he could see his words warmed her nearly as much. Victory chugged through him.
A slow smile lit that glow to blinding levels. "I think there's a compliment in there somewhere."
"I guess so. Wish I'd actually thought to give it. But honestly, I'm just amazed that I could have been so clueless."
"We see what we want to see."
"Putting that psych degree to work?"
"Maybe. Or maybe just one of those side benefits to getting older."
Older. Odd how he could feel so old some days but she still seemed the same woman he'd married.
Only with better curves.
He reached for her hand. "Are you scared?"
Well, hell, that was downright sensitive, and damned if she didn't let him hold her hand. Maybe the Bard was rubbing off on him after all.
"Does it bother me having a baby this late in life? A little. With my job, I know the increased risks with age."
"And that worries you."
"I probably worry less than I did at eighteen. Maybe because I feel more … at peace about motherhood."
"So your fears are…?"
Being alone . He read it all over her face. He worked his thumb over her wrist. Who'd have thought he'd get such a rush out of holding his wife's hand and neither of them was even naked.
"I'm just being emotional. Hormones and all that. The timing's not the best, but I'm going to have a baby."
"We're going to have a baby." He squeezed her hand. "We. This is my child, too, so we're in this for another eighteen. At least. Remember that."
He tried to read her again and found … more of that fear. Of him? He deserved a lot of things, but not that.
The
However, he hadn't expected another chance three months ago, a chance he'd blown. A mistake he wouldn't repeat. Which meant no jumping Rena in the kitchen.
Her eyes flashed with inspiration. She snatched a pudding pack from the refrigerator door. "Cravings."
"Like before."
"Textbook." She limped to the minuscule kitchenette table. Sighing, she sagged into a seat, swinging her injured foot up onto one of the other chairs. "Hope you don't want any pudding, because this is the last one, so you'll have to pry it out of my hormonally tight grip."
J.T. kicked the refrigerator shut. He dropped into a chair across from her and watched her savor alternating bites of chili and chocolate pudding. She licked the spoon clean every time. Rapture spread across her face.
His knuckles itched to glide across her high cheekbones as a prelude to kissing away the chocolate on the corner of her mouth. Damn, she was beautiful. "I can't believe I missed it."
"Missed what?"
He shook his head at his own blindness the past few months. "That you're pregnant."
He let himself reach, touch just his thumb to the corner of her lush lips.
Ducking his touch, she grabbed for a napkin. "Because I'm eating like a pig? Thanks. I'm now totally reassured you don't want to come back home or you would have never made that comment."
Her hands fell to her stomach. His hungry eyes followed her gesture to the slight swell. He could almost feel the taut skin over the growing proof of their child. Had in fact felt it in days past when she'd carried their other children.
Would he be allowed to feel the roll of their baby under his hand this time? "Lower the hackles. I wasn't commenting on the food."
"Oh, uh, well, you probably didn't notice because I wore loose clothes."
If ever he'd needed the Bard's way with words, it was now. He'd just have to settle for simple honesty.
"That still isn't what I meant." He angled closer, elbows on the table. "You know I'm not much of a guy for woo-hoo stuff. But that pregnancy-glow thing—there must be something scientific to it. I mean, hell, Rena, you've been in a wreck. Suffered a concussion. Damn near broke your foot, and you're still glowing so bright I could read by it."
Not an intimate touch to her tummy, but he could see his words warmed her nearly as much. Victory chugged through him.
A slow smile lit that glow to blinding levels. "I think there's a compliment in there somewhere."
"I guess so. Wish I'd actually thought to give it. But honestly, I'm just amazed that I could have been so clueless."
"We see what we want to see."
"Putting that psych degree to work?"
"Maybe. Or maybe just one of those side benefits to getting older."
Older. Odd how he could feel so old some days but she still seemed the same woman he'd married.
Only with better curves.
He reached for her hand. "Are you scared?"
Well, hell, that was downright sensitive, and damned if she didn't let him hold her hand. Maybe the Bard was rubbing off on him after all.
"Does it bother me having a baby this late in life? A little. With my job, I know the increased risks with age."
"And that worries you."
"I probably worry less than I did at eighteen. Maybe because I feel more … at peace about motherhood."
"So your fears are…?"
Being alone . He read it all over her face. He worked his thumb over her wrist. Who'd have thought he'd get such a rush out of holding his wife's hand and neither of them was even naked.
"I'm just being emotional. Hormones and all that. The timing's not the best, but I'm going to have a baby."
"We're going to have a baby." He squeezed her hand. "We. This is my child, too, so we're in this for another eighteen. At least. Remember that."
He tried to read her again and found … more of that fear. Of him? He deserved a lot of things, but not that.
The
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