Chapter Three-Hundred and Four
Claire rubbed her eyes, rolling onto her back and reaching her hand out for John. Her hand hit bare mattress, but the sheets were still warm from his body heat. "John?" She yawned, noticing that his pillow was still rumpled from his restless sleeping habits and that the sheets were an absolute mess on his side of the bed. She sighed, looking out her window to see that the sun was just starting to peek over the horizon.
She stepped down the stairs, picking up the coffee pot and filling a mug before she headed out to the shop. She opened the door to the garage, shaking her head when she saw that he already had his leathers on and the helmet dropped. The buzz of electricity filled her ears, the scent of molten steel reaching her nose. She set the coffee mug down on the tool bench, taking a seat in John's work chair to wait for him to finish his bead. She traced her fingers over his sketches on the corkboard, looking at the carefully planned out projects and even the little codes he'd created to keep all the parts and pieces straight. He was like Asher in that sense, able to think along three axis's. He was as creative as Allison, but he kept it hidden —afraid of what would happen if someone found out.
She paused at one in particular, the image of a baby crib under his 'wood' board. Was he already thinking of babies?
"It's for Asher and Sara." John's voice was still hoarse from sleep, his scent stronger now that he'd been welding. "Beverly's going to go early. I can feel it."
She shook her head, kissing his jaw as he sipped on his coffee. "And what about this one?" She asked, pointing to the arch pinned to the 'metal' board.
"Not telling." He smirked, shooing her out of his chair before taking a seat and pulling her into his lap. "Unless you can guess."
She hummed in thought, turning to look him in the eyes. "A boat?" She smiled sarcastically, laughing when he ticked her ribs.
"That's exactly what it is, Mi Corazón." He buried his nose into her neck, closing his eyes as he breathed her in.
Amelia screamed in joy as she and Phoebe played around the pool, slipping on the wet cement when Chance ran in front of her. "Momma!" She cried, holding her hand over the back of her head where red blood was seeping from.
John bolted toward her, skinning his knees up on the pavement as he scooped her up in his arms. "Shhh… you're okay." He held her close to his chest, taking a towel from his sister and cupping Amelia's head in his hand. "You're alright."
"I want Momma!" She sobbed, clutching John's tank-top in her hand as he moved her.
He nodded, lifting her with strength and control before he took her inside to her parents. "Mary?" He bit his cheek as he placed Amelia in her mother's arms, afraid that she would blame him. "She slipped by the pool."
Mary rocked her child, motioning to John's ripped up knees. "Go put some cream on those." She kissed his head, giving him a meaningful look of thanks. "Thank you."