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She laughed. “What else you got?”
He thought for a moment, looking around the room before he turned back to her. “How about Jamison?”
“Hmmm. I kinda like that. We could call him James or Jamie for short.”
“Or J,” he offered.
“We’ll keep it as our top choice for now, but let’s stay open to new ideas.”
He leaned in, lifting her T-shirt up to expose her belly. He pressed his hands to either side of her stomach and spoke against her skin. “What do you think about that, little man? Are you a Jamison?” He chuckled.
Flutters filled her belly as a few rapid kicks pulsed in her abdomen.
Finn’s laughter stopped abruptly as his eyes widened. “Was that . . .?”
She smiled and nodded. “You felt him?”
Finn kissed her belly. When he pulled away, his wide grin nearly blinded her. Excitement danced in his eyes, wonder and awe tangling in his expression. “I guess he likes the name we picked out.”
“Or he likes his daddy’s voice.”
Finn’s eyes grew glassy as he turned his attention to her. Her heart squeezed at the raw emotion pouring from her husband. He climbed over her and kissed her mouth.
“Thank you for this. For being my wife. For growing our son inside you. For being the most amazing woman I’ve ever known.”
Tears were welling in her own eyes now. She threaded her fingers through his. “Thank you for doing all this with me. For giving me a chance. For loving me.”
“I’ll always love you. You’re my true north, remember? I’ll always find my way back to you.”
She leaned forward, capturing his lips with her own. Demanding and needy. Wrapping her arms round his neck, she pulled him closer. He slipped in next to her, always so careful of her growing belly. His mouth remained locked with hers. Their tongues tangled and teeth nipped.
Finn pulled away, lowering the sheets to expose her legs. He lifted her shirt over her belly as he settled between her thighs. A wave of self-consciousness barreled through her. She grasped his shoulders, halting his descent.
“What is it?” He furrowed his brow.
“I just . . . I don’t want you to do that.”
He quirked his brow. “You don’t want me to go down on you? Did I do a bad job before?”
“No! No. Nothing like that. You were wonderful. Amazing.”
“Then why haven’t you let me do it all week?”
She shifted her shirt down and covered her face with her hands, heat rising to her cheeks.
“Hey, what is it? You can tell me anything.”
“It’s stupid.”
“Sweetheart, tell me.” He pulled her hands away from her face.
“I can’t reach down there anymore. I can barely see to shave my legs.” She flicked her gaze to his, and the bastard was smiling. “You think this is funny?”
He chuckled. “You think I’ll care that you have some body hair?”
“Well . . . yeah. And the giant basketball above my va-jay-jay.”
His smile disappeared as he lifted her shirt once again. “This is the body of a goddess. This gorgeous, swollen belly . . .” He kissed her stomach. “. . . is growing a human life. And these”—he pointed to the stretch marks that had begun appearing on her skin despite her faithful use of lotion—“these are Jamison marks. It’s his tattoo. The mark of a warrior.” He kissed each one gently.
