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Aaron waited for the water to start running before he walked to the kitchen and pulled the book from his briefcase. He and Becka had fallen into something of a pattern over the last week. An agonizing pattern, but one all the same. She left sometime around five each morning to teach one of her classes, pausing barely long enough to grab a cup of coffee and mutter a greeting to him. They both arrived back at his place around six and then shared some kind of dinner. Then she took a shower followed by a bath. In that order.
If the last seven days were anything to go by, she’d emerge from the bathroom in a little over an hour, wrapped in a towel that covered her from chest to knees and dart into her bedroom. He wouldn’t see her again until morning.
It was like living with a wild animal that feared contact. Every time he got too close, or moved too purposefully toward her, she fled back into her room and shut the door. If it hadn’t been for the first night, for her anger over the idea of him with someone else, he might have thought...
Aaron didn’t know what he would have thought. This wasn’t proceeding like he’d expected, but then he hadn’t had shit for a plan to begin with.
He settled onto the couch and flipped open the baby book. It tracked pregnancy by week with the various changes to both the mother and the baby, as well as overviews of each trimester and what to expect. He was more than a little in awe, but the new knowledge wasn’t enough to ignore the fact that he and Becka still hadn’t actually talked.
He flipped the page to the next set of FAQs. Aaron paused, the first sentence catching his eye. Bathing while pregnant. He read with increasing agitation as the book outlined the recommendation of keeping bath temperatures below ninety-eight degrees, and comparing that information with Becka’s pink skin and flushed cheeks every night. “Goddamn it.” He shot to his feet and stalked down the hallway to the bathroom door. Aaron banged on it. “Becka! Open the door!”
Cursing sounded, and a second later, she yanked the door open, a towel clutched at her chest. Her hair was wet, but from the half-filled tub behind her, she’d only gotten through the shower portion of her nightly routine. She glared. “What the hell do you need right this second?”
He held up the book and pointed to the section he’d just read. “No more hot baths.”
Becka’s brows slammed down. “My baths are fine.”
“Yes, yes, the baths are fine. I’m talking about the scalding temperatures.” He shoved the book at her and headed into the kitchen to find the thermometer Trish had insisted he needed the last time she visited New York. It was technically for meat, but it should work in a pinch. He strode back into the bathroom, finding Becka exactly where he’d left her, reading with a pinched look on her face. Aaron slid past her and stuck the thermometer into the bathwater, impatiently watching the red line climb. It hovered just over one hundred degrees, so he cranked the cold water more fully on. “It’s bad for the baby—and you—if it’s too hot.”
“Aaron.”
He waited for the thermometer to read the appropriate temperature before he sat back on his heels and turned to find Becka watching him with a strange look on her face. “What’s wrong?”
“You bought a pregnancy book.” She looked at him like she’d never seen him before. “You’re reading a pregnancy book.”
“Well, yeah.” He stood and dried off his hand on his shirt. “I said you aren’t in this alone, and I meant it. I don’t know shit about pregnancy or babies, and until we know our plan, I’m hardly going to call up my mother and ask her for information. Books are the next best thing.”
Emotions flickered over her face, too fast for him to decipher. “You’d call your mother and ask her about my pregnancy.”
There was something going on here. Something more than just her being surprised he was doing his homework. Aaron approached her slowly, carefully. She just watched him without moving, her hand still fisting the towel just above her breasts. He stopped just within arm’s reach. “My family might kick my ass for knocking you up and letting you falter for three months without my being there, but this baby will be my parents’ first grandbaby. They’re going to care.” He made a face. “Honestly, as soon as he or she makes an appearance, I fully expect the entire Livingston clan to descend on this penthouse.”
Her lower lip quivered, just a little. “I didn’t know you were close to your parents. They’re still together?”
The question sounded innocent enough, but there were undertones there. Deep ones. “Thirty-seven years and counting. I’m the oldest, and I have two younger sisters. We’re close, though they both live a few hours north of the city so I don’t see them as much as everyone would like.”
