Page 221 of Cara & Gian: The Guzzi Duet

Gian smirked down at her. “It’s a gift.”

“It’s certainly something.”

Chris stepped up to unlock the building door and hold it open, but stayed behind them as Gian carried Cara to the apartment.

“Just set the bags inside the door,” Gian told Chris as Cara unlocked the apartment.

“Got it, boss.”

It didn’t take them long to get inside, for Cara to turn the lights on, and for Chris to head back out. Gian urged Cara toward the couch, despite her protests to want to clean, or cook. He wasn’t having that shit—she was resting.

“You do realize that no amount of talking is going to change what I want you to do, right?” Gian asked.

Cara sighed heavily, resting into the couch. “I need to sweep, and pick things up.”

“I will handle it. You will relax.”

“This isn’t your—”

“I will handle it, Cara.”

She scowled. “You’re so stubborn.”

“You’re one to talk.” Gian smirked at the sight of her frustrations. “Now, what do you want me to get you to wear from your dresser? Something comfy?”

“I’m fine.”

“Cara.”

“Oh, my God, Gian. Don’t hover.”

He was down on his knees in a flash, resting his hands on her thighs. That wasn’t nearly good enough for him, though, so he pushed the over-sized shirt she wore up high enough to get his palms against the swell of her stomach. Quickly, he leaned in and pressed a kiss to her skin, just above her naval.

“I’m not trying to hover,” he whispered against her skin, “but I can’t help it. Let me do things, Cara, even if you’re capable and I’m driving you crazy. Let me help, because I love you, and I need you to be okay. I need to make sure you’re okay.”

Her fingers drifted through his hair with soothing strokes. “I am fine.”

“Now, Cara.”

“And the baby is fine.”

“Again, now.” Gian kissed her stomach again, though the baby was quite still. He figured that the boy didn’t have much room to move around in anymore. “You don’t allow me to do a lot for you as it is. And I understand why, though I want to do more.”

“You do enough,” she replied.

Gian shook his head. “No, I really don’t. I shouldn’t be living separate from you, or worried I might miss the call when he finally decides to make his way into the world. You shouldn’t have two nurseries in two different places. I shouldn’t have to keep a fucking wedding ring tucked away in my car or wear it on my hand, depending on what I’m doing or where I am that day. None of that is what I should be doing. None of it, Cara. And it kills me—it’s killing me. So if that’s how I feel, then I can only imagine what it’s like for you.”

“Gian—”

“Please just let me help, amore. Let me do something.”

Cara ran her fingers through his hair again. “Something comfy, then. And a glass of water would be nice.”

“All right.”

“And you,” she added quieter. “You and a blanket would be perfect.”

“Get one of those ugly Rom-Com things you like on, too.”