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Minutes later, when she’s finally let me go, we all bark out in laughter when she asks our small group, “Okay, now can I have breadsticks?”
Chapter 26
Erin
I COME AWAKE to a hot, wet feeling between my legs and instantly go into a panic. It’s mostly dark in the room, just a teensy bit of light coming in through the tiny crack in the curtains. My hands dive to the apex of my thighs, and I know—I just know—I’ve lost our baby. I sob out, lifting my fingers to try to get a closer look at the wetness that I pull away, fully expecting it to be an ugly red.
And that’s when I feel Curtis whisper against my thigh, “It’s okay, sugar. It’s only me.”
When my eyes focus, I see my hand, my fingers only shiny with clear wetness, and my head falls against the pillow in relief. Tears sting my nose at the roller coaster of emotions I’ve been on in only the few moments I’ve been awake, and when I sniffle, Curtis crawls up my body, circling his arm beneath my back to hold me to him as he shushes me, trying to soothe away my fears.
“I’m so sorry, baby. I only wanted to make you feel good, wake you up in the best possible way. Made sure to wake up before you, so I could convince you not to run this time. It was the first time we would ever wake up together, and I wanted it to be special. I didn’t mean to scare you,” he says against my lips, pressing kisses between each sentence.
I let out a weak laugh and brush away my tears that have fallen out of the corners of my eyes. “I’m not going anywhere, honey. I promise. You never have to worry about me running ever again.” I lift my hands to cradle his face. “I guess we both have a little PTSD to work through, huh?”
He nods. “I guess so, Ms. Psychologist.” He kisses me passionately then, and my hips instinctively begin to move against him. “Is… is it safe for me to make love to you?” he asks tentatively, and I smile, closing my eyes, nodding slowly.
“Yeah, honey. It’s safe. Just be gentle,” I reply, and when I open my eyes, he looks a little worried.
“Gentle because I might hurt you?” he clarifies.
I shake my head. “No, gentle because I don’t want to risk crazy acrobatics bringing on my morning sickness in the middle of the bed.”
“Oh,” he pushes out through a laugh. “Got it.” With that, he kisses his way down my body.
And we make sweet, slow love, managing to stave off any nausea until way after my second orgasm.
_______________
“So what’s the schedule today?” I ask, sitting at the island next to Emmy as I nibble on a piece of toast Curtis buttered for me while he flips a pancake flawlessly midair.
“Well, the team will be here around three to start getting us ready for the awards show. They’re going to bring you girls several dresses to choose from, and us guys a couple tuxes,” Curtis replies.
“Hawt,” I say, taking another bite.
“Blow on it first, baby,” he says, his eyes turning to me over his shoulder.
“No, you goob. You in a tux. Hot,” I tell him, shaking my head.
Emmy giggles next to me. “Get used to that shit, Rin. If you thought they were annoying before with their overprotectiveness, you ain’t seen nothin’ until you’re knocked up.” And then she squeals, “You’re knocked up!”
I chuckle with the toast up to my mouth, leaning my head over to rest on her shoulder for a minute of loving companionship before I sit up when Curtis slides a pancake on my plate.
“Eat,” he orders, and I roll my eyes.
“I’m just going to throw it up,” I argue.
He puts his fists on his hips. “Yeah, well. At least your body might have enough time to soak up some of the nutrients before it makes its reappearance. I packed in some extra protein in that pancake. Eat.”
“All right, all right, bossy britches. Gimme some syrup,” I tell him, propping my elbow up on the countertop, my palm up as my fingers wiggle for him to hurry up.
He grabs a glass bottle out of a cabinet and hands it to me. “Not too much. Internet said a lot of sugar can set off nausea.”
I pout my bottom lip. “Awww, you researched pregnancy stuff for me, honey?” Emmy and I share a look that agrees that’s super dreamy.
“Of course I did. I gotta know what I can and can’t feed my babies,” he says, coming around the island to press a kiss to my lips before I dump syrup on the pancake. He growls, stealing the container away.
“Why is all your stuff unmarked? If I ever try to cook anything, I’m going to have to smell and taste everything trying to figure out what each item is.” I cut up my food, placing a square of the flapjack on my tongue. I close my eyes and moan around the bite. “Oh, that’s gooood.”
