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Kip looked appropriately chastised, reaching for the box from the bakery. “I have a variety of Nora’s best pastries,” he said, opening the box.
My appetite suddenly took over my body, and I reached for the chocolate croissant, which was still soft and warm.
Kip produced a napkin for crumbs, which I took thankfully.
“You drove to Jupiter and back to get me croissants and coffee?” I clarified.
“Well, I got myself a coffee, too, so it wasn’t an entirely selfless act.” He lifted his cup.
“If this is you trying to ‘win me back,’ you gotta know it’s gonna take more than pastries and coffee,” I informed him, not giving up either of them.
Kip chuckled. I liked the sound of it. I hadn’t heard it in months, and it warmed my very bones. And other places.
“I’m aware that it’s gonna take much more than that. But you just agreed that Icanwin you back,” he said, tone dripping with triumph.
Fuck.
“I didn’t mean it like that,” I snapped.
Kip smirked at me. “Yeah, you did. I’ve still got a chance.”
“Don’t flatter yourself.”
Though my voice had a considerable bite to it, something inside me felt alive, happy to be in a familiar rhythm, to see a Kip I recognized.
A nurse came in at that point to check my vitals and the baby’s heartbeat with a portable doppler. I recognized what it looked like because I’d stared at the product page for one every night in my first trimester, figuring out whether it would be a good thing or a bad thing to have the ability to find my baby’s heartbeat.
I’d decided against it.
I’d make myself crazy constantly trying to find the little fucker, and then I’d spiral into a deep depression if I couldn’t. I was already enough of a wreck.
As it was, I was a wreck when the nurse produced the little thing, my mouth suddenly dry and my limbs frozen.
The heartbeat that came from the little machine was reassuring and a welcome sound, but I hadn’t factored in Kip’s being there, nor had I expected him to have a reaction.
He went slack-jawed, and he leaned forward so his elbows were on the bed as he stared at my belly in awe. If I was ever going to try to convince myself that Kip didn’t care about the baby, I couldn’t, not after this moment right here.
It scared me. The boomerang from such coldness to such utter… astonishment and devotion.
I didn’t know what to do with that. All the maternal hormones coursing through my body made me soft and really tempted to forgive him and go home like a happy family.
Which we weren’t.
I needed to remember that.
So I retreated.
For the rest of the morning, I didn’t look directly at him, didn’t smile at him, and didn’t let his caring expression and over-the-top protectiveness penetrate. Instead, I focused on getting myself ready to get the fuck out of the hospital and back home.
They made me leave in a wheelchair, which didn’t really help with my whole ‘capable woman’ thing.
Then there was Kip helping me in and out of his truck like I was a fucking invalid. I wanted to swat him away, but the fucker’s truck was lifted, and I couldn’t wrench myself in there one-handed. The hospital didn’t give me any of the good drugs on account of the fetus inside me. Therefore, not only did my wrist throb but I felt like I’d been hit by a car.
Which I guessed I kind of had.
So, I needed Kip to help me into the truck, and out of the truck, and then into the house, where he situated me on the sofa with blankets. Fucking blankets. Again, I might’ve argued except my sofa and blankets were really fucking great right now.
“I’m going to make dinner,” he said after tucking me in like a burrito. “What do you want?”
