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My eyes flicker to her hand. There’s something on her finger, and I point at it. “What is that? A ring?”
She smiles. “Why yes, it is.”
I step closer and hold out my hand. “Let’s see it.”
She bends her fingers like we’re ring shopping, and my throat tightens. Is this what Mason gave her earlier? She put it on after he left but turned it upside down so I couldn’t see it and told me it was a surprise for later.
I finally get a better look at it, and my eyes snap up to hers. She’s biting her lip, her eyes filled with amusement. I inspect the ring once more and snort, unable to believe what I’m seeing. “What the hell? Is this for real?”
She bursts out laughing. “Right? I mean, what are the chances? If Mason knew what significance his present has for me. For us. It’s the freaking best thing ever.”
“A Smurf ring. Wow.”
“Yup.” She shifts her hand around so I can see it from all angles. “I thought I could, you know . . . practice wearing a ring.”
I’m not sure what’s worse, my heart palpitations, my dry mouth, or my sweaty hands.
Does she . . . No, she can’t possibly know that I . . .
She takes a step toward me, fisting my shirt at the collar to close the last distance between us, her baby belly gently pushing against my stomach. Then she goes up on her toes until she’s right in my face. “Babe?”
“Huh?” My brain short-circuits with her so close, but I’m trying to focus on her words.
“I know you’re giving me time until you ask me because you know I was a bit freaked out about getting married so soon after getting divorced, and I appreciate that more than I can tell you.”
One of her hands trails up my chest and throat until it rests against my cheek. “But I want you to know one thing. Whenever you think I’m ready, and you’ll ask me, I’ll say yes. Because we’re in this together. You own my heart as much as I own yours, baby craziness and all.”
That’s it. That’s all I can handle.
I wrap her in my arms and carry her out of the closet and over to the bed. “I love you so much.”
“I love you.” She doesn’t wait for me to undress her. She’s already ripping off her clothes before my hands ever make contact with them.
Her second trimester pregnancy hormones have been very good to our sex life, and I’m not complaining.
Her naked form in front of me is such a stark contrast compared to my still-dressed state, and I drink in every inch of her. I didn’t think it was possible, but she’s gotten even more beautiful in the last few months.
I cup her face and crash my mouth to hers. When I suck on her lip, she does that little moan I love so much. Her whimpers follow when my hands leave her face and draw an imaginary path to her breasts to massage them. Once I’m at her belly, I gently brush it, and Harper smiles against my mouth. Just as I’m about to go lower, something moves against my fingers, and I snap back.
“What the—”
Harper gasps. “Did you just feel that?”
I don’t dare move my hand but nod.
Then it happens again, but this time stronger.
Harper’s been feeling the movements and kicks for several weeks now on the inside, but the doctor said it’s totally normal to not feel them on the outside until quite a while later.
Goose bumps slide along the back of my neck as something strange happens inside my chest. It’s the weirdest sensation, but I know it’s real. The love I already feel for this baby has just grown even more than before, which I didn’t think was possible.
I lift my other hand and place it over Harper’s belly too. We stand like this for several minutes until Harper giggles.
“I think he’s back to sleep now.”
While we don’t know the gender, Harper decided to call our baby a he to keep it easier. Which suits me just fine. We decided not to find out, so neither one of us has a clue, which doesn’t mean Harper isn’t still constantly checking out old wives’ tales.
I lower myself to the floor in front of her and kiss her belly. “I can’t believe I just felt our baby kick.”
