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But, from the way she was situated in my bed, she likely hadn’t been sleeping well, and the jersey had worked its way about halfway up her belly, leaving a few of my favorite parts exposed.
I grinned and started to strip out of my clothes, tossing them in the hamper to deal with tomorrow.
Hopefully I remembered, because last week I’d done nearly the same thing as I was about to do now and had forgotten that I’d left a pen in the pocket of my pants, splattering the entire wash with spots of blue with my lack of effort.
I sat down on the bed to tackle my boots next, Izzy’s face inches away from my hip.
I could feel her hot breath on my side, and I smiled.
I smiled even wider when she moaned and stretched, clearly waking up despite my efforts to allow her to sleep.
“I talked to Oscar and his wife today,” she whispered into the darkness. “They’re still mad at me because Ruben refuses to come home.”
I grunted. “How is it your fault if they don’t want to stay with him? That’s what happens when you emancipate yourself from your parents.”
“Oscar’s really not all that mad,” she explained, reaching out into the darkness and pressing her hand against my bare back.
I felt shivers race to that spot and licked my lips
A part of me still couldn’t believe that she was back.
It’d been a few weeks now since she’d returned to not only my bed, but my entire life, and I still felt like I’d wake up from my dream and everything would be awful all over again.
It wasn’t a good feeling, and though logically I knew that I’d eventually get used to having her back again, I decided that maybe that was one feeling I shouldn’t get used to.
I needed to appreciate her more than I did.
I needed her to know that she was important to me. That she was my entire world.
“Dad was fired from three jobs when I came back,” Izzy whispered. “I might or might not have laughed.”
I grinned. “Your customers are loyal to you. But you are going to have to slow down soon.”
She grumbled something incoherent. “Maybe. Maybe not. We’ll see.”
I flipped off my first boot, followed by the second, and then stood up to shuck my black tactical pants from my thighs.
The moment those were gone, the underwear went next, and then I was free to do what I’d wanted to do since the moment I’d walked in the door.
Crawl onto the bed and press my body—and very erect cock—to her softest places.
“I love you, Isadora,” I growled, grinding myself into her.
She gasped and spread her thighs, allowing me to fall in between them.
“I love you, too, Rome,” she whispered, pulling my face down to hers.
With her as pregnant as she was, it made this particular position extremely difficult, but we made it work.
And eight and a half minutes later, when we both lay panting next to each other, our child started to dance in his or her mother’s belly.
We still hadn’t found out the sex of the baby because we wanted to be surprised.
Which also kind of scared the shit out of me as well.
On one hand, I might be able to prepare myself if I knew the sex beforehand. But on the other hand, Izzy was so excited about us finding out the sex together in the hospital room as our child was born that it was hard to tell her that I needed the preparation.
In the end, I decided that the best way was to give her what she wanted.
In the meantime, though, I was getting more and more nervous by the day.
“It’ll be okay, you know,” she murmured.
I laughed. “How do you always know when I’m freaking out?”
“Your grandmother told me a few of your quirks.” She paused. “Her and Tyler were over today while you were at work. Apparently, you told them I had a bad morning?”
“Who, me?” I teased.
I didn’t like Izzy being by herself, and I especially didn’t like leaving her for twelve hours when I knew she was having a bad day and remembering things that shouldn’t be remembered.
We helped each other that way, and I knew she’d have done the same for me if it’d happened.
“How’s your back?” she whispered.
She’d been devastated when I’d been shot, and even more devastated to know that it could’ve been preventable if her ex hadn’t been such a dumbass.
But that wasn’t her fault, and despite what I told her, she still beat herself up about it.
“Perfectly fine,” I told her. “Didn’t twinge at all today.”
She sighed. “Your grandmother told me that you hide your pain well. She told me this story about you breaking your arm, and they didn’t know about it for three days because you wanted to play in your peewee league championship bowl.”
