Page 123 of One Reckless Night

“Comfortable?” he asked.

I nodded, smiling up at him. “Perfect.”

He leaned down to press a kiss to my forehead, lingering for a moment before straightening. “I’m going to grab us something to eat. Leftovers sound good?”

“Yes,” I said, my stomach growling faintly at the thought. “But only if you come back quick.”

He smirked, that cocky glint in his eye I loved so much. “Demanding, aren’t we?”

“Always,” I teased back.

He pulled on his underwear. “Be right back.”

I watched him leave the room and couldn’t stop smiling. I nestled deeper into the pillows, savoring the warmth of the blankets and the lingering satisfaction humming through my body.

It wasn’t long before Jared returned, carrying a tray with two plates piled high with leftovers—roasted chicken, mashed potatoes, and steamed vegetables from dinner the night before. He set the tray down on the bed beside me before climbing in next to me, careful not to jostle anything.

“Here,” he said, handing me a fork and nudging one of the plates toward me. “Eat.”

“Thank you,” I murmured.

“For what?”

“For everything,” I said softly. “For being here. For taking care of me.”

Jared’s hand stilled on mine for a moment before he squeezed gently. “You don’t have to thank me for that.”

“I know,” I said. “But I want to.”

He pressed another kiss to the top of my head.

We finished eating before he cleared away the dishes. When he returned to bed, I was exhausted.

I lay still beside Jared, his breathing steady and deep, the warmth of his body radiating against mine. But sleep wouldn’t come. My back ached, my mind buzzed with restless energy, and the weight of the baby pressed uncomfortably against my ribs. I shifted carefully, trying not to wake him, but no position felt right.

Finally, I gave up. Slipping out of bed, I grabbed his shirt and pulled it on. I padded downstairs to the nursery. The soft glow of the moon spilled through the windows. It was almost finished. The crib was assembled along with a changing table and a dresser. A stack of tiny clothes waiting to be folded after I had washed them with the special laundry detergent.

I sat cross-legged on the floor, pulling a pile of onesies into my lap. I folded them neatly and set them aside in a neat stack. My mind wandered as I worked, imagining what it would be like to hold our son in my arms, to see Jared rocking him to sleep in this very room. The thought made me smile.

Jared and I had both been on shopping sprees without the other knowing it, which resulted in a pile of clothes that would probably only be worn once.

I unfolded a tiny striped shirt and smoothed it out on my lap, running my fingers over the seams. Would he have Jared’s gray eyes? His stubbornness? Or would he inherit my wild curls and restless energy?

“Amelia?”

I looked up to see him leaning against the doorway, his hair messy from sleep and concern etched into his features. He was wearing just a pair of sweatpants slung low on his hips, his bare chest reminding me of why I was so attracted to him.

“Hey,” I said softly, setting the shirt aside. “Did I wake you?”

He shook his head and stepped into the room, crouching down beside me. “I woke up and you weren’t there. You okay?”

“Yes. Just couldn’t sleep.”

Jared sat down next to me. He picked up a pair of tiny socks from the pile and turned them over in his hands. “I’ll help,” he said.

I smiled and picked up another onesie. “I think we might have gone overboard with the newborn stuff.”

He grinned. “We’ll donate what we don’t need.”