He chuckles, making me laugh too. “Woman, I’m getting whiplash from all these rules and their addendums.”
I laugh, and my gaze catches on something. Something we’ve never talked about, but now seems as good of a time as any, so I brush my fingers over the tattoo on his ribs, and glance at him. “When did you get this?” I ask, butterflies swarming in my chest.
Graham sucks in a breath as he looks at the spot my hand lays. “When I was eighteen,” he says softly. Cautiously, almost like he doesn’t know what I’ll say. “It was the first tattoo I got.”
My throat tightens as I take it all in. “I saw it that night,” I murmur. “The night at the bar. Well, the morning after.”
“Oh, before you ran out of your own house?”
“There was no running.” I chuckle. “But yes.” Then, swallowing thickly, I ask, “Is it… Did you get it because of me?”
There’s no hesitation. “Of course, I did.”
I forget how to breathe for a moment. My chest tightens, and my heart pounds hard and fast behind my ribs. I’ve known that since the moment I saw it for the first time, but damn…hearing it out loud iseverything. I don’t know what to say, so I don’t say anything at all.
Leaning forward, I seal my lips to his before I ask, “Quickie before Ellie Mae wakes up?”
A growl sounds in Graham’s throat as he rolls us until he’s positioned between my legs. “I thought you’d never ask,Sunny.”
He kisses me deeply and thoroughly, and by the time he eases his cock inside, I manage to forget all about the fear I felt just a minute ago. I give myself over to him, knowing I’ll never get over how well he knows my body, how there’s never been anybody like him before.
How it’s always been him.
24
Charley, 27 weeks
“You’ve got to be kidding me.”
Staring at my reflection in the mirror on the back of my door, I grumble before tugging off the way-too-tight blouse clinging to my body. A blouse that fit great a couple of weeks ago, but now I look like a busted can of biscuits. This is the third outfit I’ve tried on today, and none of them look right, so now I’m sweaty, out of breath, frustrated, and have nothing to fucking wear.
Cool.
It’s like my belly grew twice its size overnight.
At this rate, I’m going to be wearing an old pair of sweats and a t-shirt tonight. Frustration wells up in my chest as I sit on the edge of my bed. Pressure builds behind my eyes, my throat tight, and I want to scream. This is ridiculous. I’m about to cry, and for what? Because my clothes don’t fit?
Yeah, Charley, you’re fucking pregnant. Of course they don’t fit.
Why am I going to cry about that?
My body is changing so fast, I have no control over any of it, and sometimes I don’t know how to deal with it. I look in the mirror and barely recognize the woman staring back at me. Body issues have never been something I’ve dealt with, but I’ve also always been small—I’m barely five-foot-three—so everything looks disproportionate in my eyes. Too round, too wide, and I swear my feet have gotten bigger. I didn’t even know that was a thing.
How do people enjoy pregnancy?
I allow myself a moment to feel sorry for myself before an idea comes to me.
Reaching into my closet, I grab the white bodycon dress I bought earlier this week, and I pair it with a jean jacket. My stomach twists as I get dressed and walk over to the mirror. I’m almost positive it’s going to look awful on me, like everything else I’ve tried today… But it doesn’t look awful at all.
In fact, I look pretty damn good. My large-and-in-charge bump actually looks so cute in the form-fitting dress.
This is the outfit.
After I slip my feet into my favorite pair of Nike’s, I pad down the hall toward the living room when I spot Graham’s truck pull in the driveway. Butterflies fill my stomach, and my heart races. He just dropped Ellie Mae off at his dad’s because tonight we’re going on adate. That feels silly, since we live together and see each other every day, but Graham thought it would be fun to go out, just the two of us, in a more romantic setting since we decided to giveusa try.
And I do agree… It’ll be fun, but I’m alsosoincredibly nervous.
I don’t even really know what I’m so nervous about. This is Graham; we’ve grown up around each other, we have history, and I’m pregnant with his child, and despite all that, the idea of going out on a real date with him makes it hard to breathe.This is just so…different. It feels way more serious andrealthan anything we’ve done before. Graham and I spent many nights together in that field, but this…
