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“No, ma’am.” I pull the photo frame from the box, standing it on her desk.
A photo Fran snuck of us in the Hamptons. It’s not all that clear because she took it at a distance and in dim light, like the crazy stalker she is. But Ava’s obviously smiling up at me in Mom’s kitchen. Her arms are wrapped around my bare chest, and she looks as happy as I remember feeling in that moment.
“Do you have some kind of obsession with crustaceans?” She fingers the hand-painted lobsters Mom painted onto the plain white frame, to match the ones on Jo’s paper plates.
“I do now. The way you ate that lobster roll…holy fuck, baby.”
“And there he is!” Her face flushes a bright crimson that makes me laugh.
“Here I am.”
“You’re impossible.”
“Why? I’m just saying—”
With a light slap to my chest Ava laughs, “Sure you are.”
“It left an impression.” Standing, I take her up with me. She’s still clutching the pacifier to her chest. “You like it, huh?”
“It’s the cutest thing. It’s almost got me all excited.”
“Almost excited?” I walk us back to my office to collect our things. “We’re going to have a baby. It’s fucking terrifying.”
“What?”
“Babies are the ultimate cockblockers.”
“You’re an asshole.” Ava slaps my chest again, and grabbing her arm, I pull her to me.
Instantly, her body melts into mine. Soft and warm. Everything a home should be.
“I’m an asshole that loves you more than life itself,” I tell her, crushing my mouth to hers.
And I kiss her until she’s trembling and breathless. Until my lungs burn for air and my heart feels so full, it might burst in my chest.
Epilogue
Ava
I’m nervous. Anxious as hell after all that happened with Fran. I’ve got every freaking thing crossed that everything is normal. Dr. Cruz walks in with her usual smile while Damon’s standing beside me, drumming his thumb on my shoulder because we’re both crapping ourselves.
“Are you ready to see your baby?” She squirts some jelly on my already exposed stomach. It’s cold and it sends a shudder through me as she starts to spread it with the ultrasound probe.
As if I wasn’t nervous and clammy enough, my pulse begins to race out of control. I feel it thrumming at the back of my throat as Damon lowers himself to perch his chin on my shoulder watching the doctor. It seems like forever while she continues going over my barely noticeable bump, and with every second, I get more and more twitchy.
“You doing okay?” he murmurs into my ear, taking one of my hands laced over my chest.
I manage to smile through my racing heart and constricted chest. It’s fallen so quiet in here; all I can hear are the air particles vibrating around us.
“Okay!” Dr. Cruz turns the screen to face us. “Everything looks great.”
“So, everything is in the right place?” Damon asks her.
“Everything is as it should be, yes. Perfectly normal. Baby is a nice size at this point. Placenta has good blood flow.”
“Two hands?” I can’t help but burst out laughing at his question.
“Two good hands and two dancing feet.” Moving the probe around, she points out all the vital organs and limbs to back up her statement. Looking at me with a knowing smile, she says, “A good heart too.”
