The dank, musty smell combined with a damp chill made goosebumps skitter - not from cold but the eeriness. She followed the light down the stairwell down underground. Jason must be in his workshop. He seemed so preoccupied the past two weeks, often disappearing for hours at a time. Maybe this was where he went each evening. The buzz of a saw. She froze. Her heart shot into her throat. If it wasn't Jason, going alone wasn't a wise move. Then a soft Scottish lullabye in a deep baritone floated through the air. The nervousness flitted away and her heart melted. Tiptoeing past the creepy dungeon cells, she peeked into his workshop. And her heart twisted.
Jason wore a breathing mask and the plastic burn mask and worked some type of wood shaving tool. In the middle of the small workroom, a few strips of wood laid out on the floor - in the layout of what appeared to be a crib. Pencil sketches on what must be the headboard created a mosaic of roses. His deep baritone fell to a soft hum as he fitted the board to another.
But Henrietta... It was so sweet and wonderful that he wanted to make the baby a crib, but Henrietta would be hurt when she grew older and realized that he favored the baby. She set a hand on the doorframe to leave so as not to disturb him, but her ring clunked against the wood.
He looked up and set down the wood. Then he walked over and pulled off the masks, leaving only the lip bandage in place. "Em, you shouldn't be breathing in the saw dust." His hand wrapped around her arm and he ushered her back toward the staircase. The man seemed so distracted lately...like he waited for the worst too. Even in bed he seemed to avoid physical contact - not even cuddling to sleep.
"Are you making a crib?" She searched his face for some kind of clue. Maybe he wasn't happy about the timing of the baby, but then again he wouldn't be making a crib if so.
"No, a bed for Henrietta." His profile held little expression as he took her up the steps.
For Henrietta? A pang of sadness hit. "Oh." So he wasn't excited about the baby.
A firm hand rested on the small of her back as he took her upstairs. "A crib is far more complicated, so figured I'd start with her bed."
Stopping on the stairs, she spun around with a smile. "You're making both of them beds?"
A frown marred his face. "Should I not?"
"No, it's just very sweet." She searched his eye, his face again impassive. Her smile faded as she set a hand over her belly. "Are you mad about the baby?"
His eyebrow shot up and then his brow knit. "Why would I be angry?" His hands rested over hers. "No. Let's go up - you standing on the stairs makes me nervous."
So she turned and went up. And almost ran into Bobby around the corner of the door. Her stomach dropped but it was too late to spin around and stop Jason from coming without the mask. Jason ran into her back at the sudden halt.
Bobby stumbled back a step, fear flickering in his eye for a split moment before a sneer masked it. "So the monster emerges from the sewers."
Whether from hormones or outrage for Jason or both, anger exploded. Jason had put up with so much from this little punk. THe words exploded. "Get in your room!" Her shout echoed through the hall.
Bobby snickered. Jason stepped forward. The snickering ceased but Bobby raised his chin to Jason in challenge.
"She said go to your room." Jason's low growl held an undertone of steel.
"You're not my father!" Bobby's hands fisted at his sides. In a heartbeat, Jason pushed between her and Bobby. That act of protection seemed to outrage the boy. He beat on Jason's chest with the backs of his fists. "I hate you! I hate you! I hate you!"
The thuds echoed with hard, hollow pounds through Jason's chest, but he let the boy scream out his anger for a couple seconds. Then he grabbed Bobby's fists and jerked the boy into his arms, locked in a hug that this man-child so desperately needed.
Bobby froze in shock. And then burst into sobs. He shoved himself away from Jason and ran upstairs.
When a deep sigh released from Jason, she stepped around to check what damage those hard hits had done. "He'll come around, Jay." Ignoring his dry look, she quietly unbuttoned his shirt. Light steps came from the left like one of the younger children's footsteps. She spun around to stop whoever it was from seeing his scars, but the footsteps continued on to the kitchen. She turned back around. Jason was gone.
He didn't appear for dinner and couldn't be found anywhere. Bobby, thankfully, kept silent during the meal.
Nibbling her lip, she ascended the stairs and turned on a warm shower in her own bedroom. Jason would come in time - he'd probably been spooked by the boy.
Peeling off her clothes, she stood before the mirror and turned. No sign of a baby bump yet, but her breasts did look a bit fuller. She grazed a hand up. They certainly did seem more sensitive. How strange to have something so small take over a body. Letting a hand fall, she cupped her belly and smiled. Hmm...maybe a tiny bit of a bump from water weight.
"It'll be so beautiful watchin' ye grow w' child," a deep baritone with a Scottish lilt floated in.
Spinning around in surprise, she tucked her hands up against her chest and under her chin. A flush of embarrassment crept up. "I didn't know you were there."
He stepped from the shadows into the bathroom light, leaning his shoulder against the doorframe in a lazy, confident manner. The mask covered his scars but a slight smile touched his lips. "Ye wouldn't 'ave let me see ye discoverin' yer body growin' w' bairn." He said it so intimately in a husky voice that the flush grew. As he reached out and lowered her hands without letting go, his eye trailed up, as if taking his time drinking in the sight. "Dunna hide yer body from me."
Her cheeks burned with embarrassment and pleasure. "You shouldn't look at me like that - I'm on my way to being huge and unable to move and probably many gross things happening." Andy's words came back, as well as other knowledge from pregnancy books like stretch marks and temporary skin pigment changes and intestinal disruptions... He'd stay Dr. Hottie while she metamorphasized into a whale.
His eyebrow cocked and his hands slipped into his pockets in a suave, rakish manner. "Ye won't be huge or 'ave gross things 'appen. Ye be growin' a strong bairn. Perhaps ye will 'ave some side effects from pregnancy. Either way, Ah did this ta ye, and Ah'll be here ta help and be supportive."
Dear heaven, the smoldering look in his eye should've left nothing behind but a pile of ashes. Her heart beat faster. The man knew the affect his accent had. The room grew far too warm. "Are you going to shower or gawk?" That would snap him out of it.
"Gawk." He didn't seem the least bit ashamed of it either.
She blinked and a flush crept up. "A bit arrogant, Dr. Port?" But a smile still tugged. Turning, she switched on the shower. Fine, the man could gawk and suffer for it.
"Nay, Ah'm a bit patient, Mrs. Port. Ah prefer ta have ye warm 'n damp from t' shower."
Snapping straight, her head whipped around to him. Desire burned hot in his eye. She swallowed hard, wanting nothing more than give herself to him. "Not in the first trimester. It's - "
"It's safe as long as it doesn't hurt ye an' Ah'm gentle. We made love before we knew t' bairn was there."
True. Her cheeks burned at the memories of how much more enjoyable the hormones made it.
"Ah'm not suffering one more night. Yer wastin' water."
She got in, closed the shower curtain, and frowned. "Is that why you won't cuddle?" A deep sigh released and she closed her eyes to relax under the warm water. A low growl seemed to be his answer. Without opening her eyes, she washed her hair and then opened her eyes to find the soap. And jumped. He watched with the curtain open. "Jason!"
He leaned a shoulder against the wall, his accent growing thicker by the minute. "Tell me that you don't like me desiring you, and I'll go. It's been far too long since I've watched my wife bathe. And I enjoy this self-inflicted torture."
"I will never understand why you like to watch. But you have to take off your clothes." She picked up the washrag.
A hearty laugh burst out of him. "And how is that different from me watching?" He straightened and undressed.
She stepped closer and eased off the mask. When he set it on the counter and then looked at her in question, she took his hand and pulled him in. Then she pressed the rag into his hand and looked up from beneath her lashes, too shy to outright ask him.
Tenderness and intimacy flared in his gaze, and he lathered the rag without breaking eye contact. His head lowered and a kiss brushed over her lips as he stepped under the water, pressing the hard planes if his body to her.
The rag carressed down the curve of her spine, creating shivers of desire. She set her hands on his chest and tilted her head back as he deepened the kiss. Her heart pounded. The room dipped. The moment she pulled back, his arms tightened around her.
"Are you alright?" The Scottish accent faded.
Clutching his shoulders for support, she took a deep breath. "Dizzy. It's getting better."
He cupped the back of her head and eased her cheek to rest on his chest. "I didn't intend to make you swoon," he said, a smile in his voice. "With the extra blood volume from the baby, it'll take your body some time to adjust to properly regulating your blood pressure."
"You couldn't just keep it romantic and not add that last part?" A smile tugged.
"The downfall of marrying a doctor, love. Warm water isn't doing you any favors with not fainting either." He turned it down just enough that shivers took over. "Just for a moment."
It did make her legs feel stronger. Then he ran the rag over her quick, all business like taking care of a patient. Her heart fell. His desire even waned. He may not view her as a whale the next seven months, but this certainly didn't make him view her as something sexual. "I'm sorry."
"There's nothing to apologize for. I should've thought about it that you might get dizzy." He shut off the water and then grabbed the towel and dried her off. "We'll dry you off so you can get some sleep."
Tears burned. Long-forgotten feelings returned - of what it felt like to be treated like a fragile China doll by everyone after the rape. Jason now saw her as a delicate thing that shouldn't be desired. The physical changes from pregnancy would feed that self-consciousness enough without this now too.
He wiped himself down fast and then scooped her up and tucked her into bed. His fingers touched the pulse under her jaw like some kind of invalid. "Go to sleep, sweetheart." Then his lips pressed to her forehead. He finished up in the bathroom and then climbed in bed. Not touching again.
She rolled away. And the tears slipped down.
The next morning, she opened her eyes. To an empty bed. Her head still ached from crying herself to sleep last night. Pushing herself up, she shuffled into the bathroom.
Of course he had left already. Jerking the hairbrush drawer open, she slammed things around and yanked the comb through her hair. It was his fault that she'd have stretch marks and puked five times a day and would get fat. Opening the medicine cabinet, she snatched out her toothbrush and flung the door shut. God forbid he cuddle or kiss or be affectionate if it didn't prelude to sex. The tears welled. He'd promised to not bail out and yet two weeks into it he had. He probably would have some kind of excuse for not coming to the ultrasound today. The tears poured out as she opened the door and ran straight into him.
"My apologies..." He caught her upper arms. "Why are you crying?"
Shoving his hands away, she stepped back with a bitter laugh. "Oh, I'm sorry, is that another thing I'm doing wrong?" she snapped and stepped around him.
"What? I don't know what what's going on. I came to wake you to get ready for the ultrasound appointment - "
So he wasn't going. Anger and hurt exploded. Irrational emotions surged out of control, the most prevalent being terrified loneliness that hadn't been felt in so many years. "I'll stay in my room the next seven months!"
His eyebrow shot up. "Is this some pregnancy hormone outburst?"
"What?!" The word came out in a shriek. Snatching the pillow nearby, she hurled it at him.
He caught it, his eye wide, and then he scowled. "What the hell?!"
Grabbing her purse, she dug out the car keys as she stormed to the door, dashing at the tears to see clearly.
"Where are you going?"
"To the doctor!" Alone. When this should be a special day with him. The moment she opened the door, his hand pressed it shut and he whirled her around. His hands cupped her cheeks. She pulled back and pushed his hands away.
"Stop," he pleaded, the sadness in his tone making her pause. He didn't touch even though he clearly wanted to hold the door shut. "I don't know if I'm a clueless ass or if we have a misunderstanding, but I'm sorry. I thought I was being a good husband. Don't punish me by going to the ultrasound without me." A note of begging tinted his voice. He swallowed hard and his eye grew misty like he expected her to walk out.
She stilled and sniffled, the emotions simmering down. "Don't pretend now that you want to go. You've been avoiding me for two weeks - "
His eyebrow snapped toward the middle of his forehead. "I wasn't trying to avoid you. You have so much morningsickness that I'm trying to take care of the children so you don't have to, and then there's Henrietta's bed to finish after work so I'll have time to figure out how to make a crib. You get nauseous if I even turn over in bed. The last thing you'd want is me climbing on you." He ran a hand through his hair in distress. "Yesterday you seemed to be doing better, so I was a greedy bastard and tried touching you but made you sick. The books say to just leave you alone the first trimester."
Her heart melted, and she burst into tears. So, he wasn't trying to be a jerk.
"I'm sorry - " He didn't move at first when she flung herself into his arms. "Em?"
"I thought you didn't want to touch me anymore."
He held tight and cradled her head on his shoulder. "No, no, sweetheart. I don't touch you because I don't want to make you nauseous or feel like I'm expecting something. And I don't trust myself to touch you."
She leaned back to look up at him. "What?"
That blue eye held so much tenderness as he brushed away her tears with his handkerchief. "Just knowing that you're carrying my baby drives me crazy."
Her eyebrow cocked.
The man slipped her hand between his legs, proving his point.
It had to be the hormones because him wanting her because of being pregnant was so hot. She grabbed his shirtfront and jerked him down for a kiss as she unbuttoned his white shirt.
He grunted in protest and lifted his head. "Aren't you nauseous this morning?"
She shook her head. "It usually doesn't hit until late morning."
"Oh sweet Jesus, thank you," he sighed in prayer and then helped her tear off his clothes between kisses. "Emma, I've needed you for so long." He wrapped her hand around his manhood and pressed her up against the bedpost, cupping her face in his hands during a passionate kiss.
"Jay, we have to leave in twenty minutes." She let go and tugged up her shirt.
"Plenty of time." Then he helped free her in a frenzy, hefted her onto his hips and sank in before she could even register it. A deep moan of satisfaction and his body melted against her.
She panted and held onto his shoulders tight. "Need me bad?"
"So bad. Oh god, Emma, this is wonderful." He nuzzled her neck, seeming to enjoy just being one.
Her nails dug into his shoulders as her body suddenly coiled, as if registering the union. She clutched a fistful of his hair as everything spiraled. "Jay," she gasped at the intensity of it.
"I love you." He whispered the words in her ear and laid her on the bed without letting go. "Let me see you find pleasure in me." It couldn't have been stopped even if she wanted.
Minutes later, he pressed a kiss to the baby. "You're still trembling." The arrogant man slid up beside her in bed and brushed a kiss over her lips.
"Hormones aided your score, so don't get cocky." She ran her fingers through his silky hair, still too tired to move anything else.
He grinned, the contrast with the frozen side of his face no longer quite as heartbreaking. "I'll take it. Out of curiosity...what is my score?"
She smiled and stretched, half purring. "Mmm...your ego doesn't need to know."
"Oh, I took a pillow to the face for nothing! I get to know." He slid on top again.
Her legs straddled his hips and she flushed. "It was a moment of pregnancy insanity. Make love to me again and I'll tell you."
The man chuckled. "You spent me. Tell me, did I please you?" His hand slid down between them.
"I guess."
His eyebrow rose. "You guess?" His hand shifted and his mouth captured her breast. "Be vocal for me."
She gasped at what he did and grabbed handfuls of the sheets as her back arched. "I'm sure everyone heard," she panted and writhed. "I - " His hand shifted and the whole mountain probably heard the next few minutes.
"You could've said it'd be an internal ultrasound," she whispered in the doctor's office as he helped her put on a gown.
"I thought you knew the baby isn't big enough to do an abdominal ultrasound." The man didn't sound one bit remorseful as he folded up her clothes.
Cramps since this morning caused a backache, not helping the stress. "You knew I wouldn't have agreed to sex if I would've known this. If the doctor asks, you can explain we just had sex." She kept her voice low and threw him a look.
"I hope these hormones level out soon." The man muttered it under his breath and offered a hand to help her up on the table.
She folded her arms and cocked an eyebrow. "You're more than welcome to do this instead. Let's start with jamming an ultrasound wand up you." Her hands shook yet since finding out that the female OB was out sick and a male was doing the appointment. The nurse had told her about it on the way to the bathroom to leave a sample. Jason was here, but the demons in the dark corners of the room lurked.
He released a deep breath. "Em, you've been biting my head off since we got here." He took her hand and helped her up on the table. Then he frowned. "You're shaking. Are you frightened of the ultrasound? It won't hurt - "
A knock at the door and then a young, husky man entered - who had a complexion not unlike Gaston. "Hello, I'm Dr. Johnson."
Jason frowned. "Where's Dr. Sanderson?"
"She's ill today, so I'm filling in." The man smiled and offered a handshake.
Jason stepped a little closer and set a hand on her knee, as if he realized why she'd been upset. "Dr. Johnson, my wife needs a female physician. Or at least a female ultrasound technician."
The doctor blinked and his eyes narrowed on Jason like he thought him some kind of controlling husband. "We have neither, but a female nurse will be present for the exam."
Her heart raced and breathing threatened to hyperventilate. Something slipped into her hand and Jason glanced over his shoulder. She looked down. She must've grabbed his hand. Her other clutched a fistful of the drape over her lap.
Jason turned around and held her gaze. "We'll reschedule," he promised.
"Am I missing something?" The doctor looked baffled.
He turned but didn't let go of her hand. "She was assaulted five years ago. It so happens that you also somewhat resemble him. I don't think it wise to put her through the exam."
The doctor nodded. "Of course. I imagine Dr. Sanderson will be back in a week - she has the stomach flu and it seems to be a long-term one going around this year. I'll have the nurse reschedule. You don't have any bleeding or cramping?"
She glanced at Jason, who looked concerned that she hesitated. Her face burned and she looked at the doctor, struggling to meet his eyes that looked so much like Gaston's. "I read that cramping and spotting after intimacy are normal?"
"It can be. How long ago was intercourse?" He asked so matter of fact.
"This morning," Jason answered, not seeming any more embarrassed than the doctor.
"As long as they're not painful and go away soon, that's normal. Are you having any other symptoms? Morningsickness, headaches, swollen ankles...?"
"Morningsickness. About five times a day, but if I avoid food around certain times, I can keep meals down."
He smiled, his face holding kindness that had never been present in Gaston's. "Good. Your temp and blood pressure were normal, so just call if the cramping doesn't go away. I'll send a nurse in to reschedule."
"Is it bad to wait a week?" Something about the gentleness in his face prompted the question.
"No, it's not harmful. The closer to eight weeks we do the ultrasound, the more accurate the due date. We like to check that everything is proceeding normally with development." He glanced at the computer screen next to him. "I see there was a positive pregnancy test a few months ago. Was that ever diagnosed if it was a chemical pregnancy, molar...?"
"No. We called when she started bleeding. Dr. Sanderson advised to just keep an eye on her with the bleeding." Jason sounded concerned. "Should she have come in?"
"No, not if it was early." He scanned through the screen. "How early?"
"Six or seven weeks." Jason set his other hand on her leg, as if he worried. His eye remained locked on the doctor.
The doctor nodded and then looked at her. A bone-chilling shiver ran through and suddenly Gaston stood there. Her heart stopped. The doctor looked back at her. Blinking, she looked at Jason to the right.
"...it," Jason said. Then he looked at her expectantly, worry and fear overflowing in his eye.
"Alright?" a deep voice said to the immediate left.
She startled hard, her head snapping around to see the doctor right there. Jason's grip was the only thing that kept her from falling off the table.
Jason's arm wrapped around. "It's alright, sweetheart."
Her heart pounded as he laid her back. When the doctor stepped closer on the left, every muscle tensed. Pure panic seized. She shot upright. Jason's arms caught her as black spots appeared.
"Emma," he said in a low, soothing tone that hadn't been heard in over a year...in the patient, calm tone from flashback days. "Emma, can you hear me? You..."
His words faded out as ringing took over. She eyed Gaston...er, the doctor. Her chest heaved trying to drag in air. Jason pressed her shoulders down, his mouth moving but no words coming. Oh god. They were going to do the ultrasound. He was going to let Gaston...
His hands cupped her face, forcing her to meet his gaze and his voice crept back in. "No one is going to harm you. I'm right here and won't let anyone hurt you. You're pale and need to lie down for a moment. Deep breath." He breathed for her to follow.
The trembling made it more like gasping for air. It made it to hard to speak. Tears rolled down.
Jason nodded at Gaston, who left. His eye dove in to where it was safe in a world of just the two of them. "He's gone."
"No ultrasound." Her face crumpled.
His brow furrowed. "No, no ultrasound. Your mother said she had placenta previa with you and that's why she had to have the hysterectomy. Dr. Johnson said it can be genetic and can start as early as eight weeks. There's a female OB I've worked with in California whom we call out when we have prenatal cardiac cases. She's excellent and would likely do better than Dr. Sanderson."
The blood drained and the fear of the doctor was replaced with fear for the baby. That's why Jason was scared - for her and for the baby. Wrapping her hands around his wrists, she searched his eyes. Tears welled. "Can they fix placenta previa now?"
"With bedrest and as your uterus grows, the placenta should shift away from the cervix. If this is even a problem, we will monitor it closely. The good news is it's an uncommon condition, so it may not even be an issue. Let's go home."
She didn't let go of his wrists when he moved to get her clothes. When he looked at her in question, she whispered, "Thank you." It would mean expense and time and him owing someone a favor to have to go to California for a simple ultrasound. But he didn't discredit the fear or push for just doing it here.
"You have done much more than this for me, sweetheart." He pulled free and brought over the clothes.
"Are you able to do the ultrasound?"
He shook his head. "I've never done prenatal. Ultrasound can heat up tissue, so I'd rather not risk causing the baby damage because I don't know what I'm doing. I can promise that if you need an echocardiogram, I can do that." He winked and handed her the shirt.
His smile swept away all the demons from the room.
"There's the head." The doctor pointed to a little circle on the ultrasound screen the next afternoon.
Tears of joy welled as she held Jason's hand.
"Everything looks good?" His eye darted between the doctor and the screen and back.
The older woman smiled, her eyes not leaving the screen. "We just started, Jason. Hold on."
He looked down and stroked her hair from her brow. "Are you alright? Does it hurt?"
She smiled. "I'm fine. Settle down."
"There's the heart beating." The doctor pointed to a tiny flickering on the screen. A tiny heart that beat so fast and perfect.
Her hand tightened in Jason's as she choked on a soft sob. Their baby.
He sank into the chair beside her as the doctor pointed out the tiny stubs for arms and legs. The moment the doctor clicked the button to make the heartbeat audible, Jason sniffled. She turned her head to him. A tear fell from his lashes and he met her eyes, pressing a kiss to her hand in his. Then he stood and kissed her forehead. "I love you."
"I love you." She took the handkerchief that he offered to dry her eyes.
"I think this is a first of Dad crying as much as Mom." The doctor smiled. Jason's cheek turned pink, but he just smiled, seeming too high on Cloud Nine to care. "Baby looks good and measures at eight weeks and five days. So, July first is the due date. Sometimes first babies comes late, so a Fourth of July baby is still possible."
Jason beamed. "No, she should have her own special day." He brushed a kiss over her lips and then brushed at his eye. "Everything looks good?"
"The baby looks good, no placenta previa, the cervix looks good..." But her smile grew strained as she looked at the screen.
"What's wrong?" Jason demanded and took her hand like he could protect from anything bad.
The doctor did a measurement and did it again from a different angle. "Good. Nothing, I wasn't sure if her ovary looked a bit small." The doctor looked at her for a moment. "Ovaries, particularly the one that ovulated, support the pregnancy until the placenta is fully functional by twelve weeks. But you're fine. It measures within normal range."
"You're certain?" he asked and rubbed her arm with his free hand.
She nodded. "Emma and the baby are textbook perfect." The doctor put away the items. "I'll send the tape to your OB, Emma."
Jason helped her sit up. "Thank you, Ruby. It's a relief knowing one of the best said they're alright." He kept a hand on her back and held out his other to the doctor.
The woman shook his hand with a grin. "I owed you one after you gave a second opinion of my grandson's EKG last year." Then the doctor offered her a handshake. "A pleasure to finally meet you, Emma. And congratulations to both of you. I need to get back to rounds."
"Thank you." The minute the doctor left the room, she smiled and held out her arms.
He crushed her in a hug. "My god, Em, I'm so happy I could explode. Are you cramping? Do you feel alright?"
"I'm fine!" She laughed and hugged him. The smile faded as it finally sank in. "We're having a baby. We're not ready for this."
He let out a hoot of excitement and pulled back with a grin. "We are, Em. And everything will be alright." Easing her back, he pulled up her shirt and down the drape to bare her belly. With gentle pressure, he palpated and then took her hand and pressed. A hard ball took shape. "That's the baby - our baby." He looked so happy, and guilt gnawed that she didn't feel like that all the sudden. "What's wrong, Emma?"
She swallowed hard and pulled her hand free. Then she set it over his on her belly and met his eye as tears welled. "I'm scared."
"Of what?" His brow furrowed in concern and he stepped closer, brushing away the tear that escaped the corner of her eye.
"Of everything that the books say can happen, labor and - " She bit her lip to cut off her words. And he'd no longer be able to look at her the same in a couple more months.
"And?" He leaned down to be closer. "I promise that all those things won't happen. You might have some side effects, but just talk to me or the doctor. There are things to help. And you can have an epidural during labor. Women think it's some badge of honor to have natural childbirth, but in the end a baby still comes. I very much prefer you have an epidural so you aren't in pain." He brushed a kiss over her lips. "Tell me what your last concern is, sweetheart."
Her lip quivered. "That you won't ever look at me the same in a few more weeks." It had to be the normones because tears burst free.
"Oh, Em, no, no, no." He slipped an arm under her shoulders and sat her up for a hug. "I need you to trust me. I'm so excited for you to start showing. You are going to look so beautiful. I desire you because I love you." He must've sensed she still wasn't convinced. "Look at us so far - you've been getting sick the past two weeks and I've seen it. I've seen you looking green and biting my head off. But I still wanted you. This morning was amazing, and I very much look forward to a repeat in a few days once we know you and the baby are sound from this poking around." Then he leaned back with a boyish, wicked grin. "And when the baby gets too large, I look forward to being creative in the bedroom."
A watery laugh bubbled out. "You're twisted."
He chuckled. "Maybe, but you'll be glad I am." Then he winked.
Just like that, he chased away all the fears and replaced them with butterflies in her belly. Which, in turn, made her run for the trash can.
The dear man held her hair back and rinsed a papertowel cold with the other hand. When he set it on the back of her neck, the nausea eased. Then he handed her a papertowel to wipe her mouth.
"Sorry. Good way to ruin the moment." She rinsed her mouth, trying to ignore her burning cheeks.
"Love, you need to remember I've seen far worse at the hospital. You don't need to be so worried. You've seen me get sick and didn't stop desiring me. You're beautiful, sweetheart. In another month, you'll feel so much better after the morningsickness fades." He scooped her up and carried her back to the table, but he didn't set her down.
"What are you doing?" She cracked a smile.
He smiled. "It's good for you to feel like a damsel being rescued sometimes. Even if it's only from germs on the floor."
That won a laugh. She laid her head on his shoulder and looked up at him. "Jason, we're supposed to go to the family's for Thanksgiving next week. I think we have to tell Mom and Nana - they'll notice if I'm running to the bathroom every ten minutes."
He grinned and kissed her forehead. "We'll announce the baby at Thanksgiving."