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“Good at what?”
“Making me feel like a queen. That’s a cheesy comparison, but it tracks. You make me feel important. Like my happiness and my safety matter more than anything else.”
I squeeze her hand. “That’s because they do.”
First thing I do when I get to my desk on Monday morning is call Riley’s diamond guy. We pick out a pink heart-shaped diamond, three carats, set in a platinum band.
Classic with a twist, just like Maren.
twenty-five
. . .
Maren
The Other Side
I’m lyingon the couch with Katie for quiet time when a ripple moves across my stomach. It’s visible, literally, even through my dress, and it feels like I’m being gently tickled from the inside.
“Katie Bear! Look!” I point to my stomach. We wait a second, then another, until the ripple happens again. It’s more of a jab this time, like the baby is throwing an elbow or a foot. “It’s the baby moving.”
Katie blinks, her eyes wide. “Is it hurting?”
“No,” I say, laughing. “It doesn’t hurt. Here, gimme your hand so you can feel it.”
She holds out her hand and I firmly press it against the top of my growing bump. Right on cue, the baby kicks. Katie giggles, delighted. “The baby is in there! Daddy! Wow!”
Tuck emerges from his bedroom—our bedroom now, I guess—his hair still wet from the shower. “What’s that?”
“Baby is moving.” I sit up a little and motion him over. “Come feel.”
His eyebrows pop up. “Really?”
“Really, Daddy, it’samazing.” Katie bounces on her knees beside me. “You can see it and everything.”
Watching Tuck stride across the kitchen, my chest squeezes at his handsomeness. He’s just in joggers and a T-shirt, but he looks good enough to eat. The light from the windows catches on his eyes and turns them to pools of pale green. His arms fill out the sleeves of his tee to the point of bursting, and the smile he wears—real happiness, the skin around his eyes crinkling—gives me a soaring sensation.
He sits on the floor beside us and grabs Katie, settling her on his lap.
I hold up a finger. “Watch first. I think the baby really liked that sandwich you made for lunch, Tuck, because he or she is really active right now.”
A beat later, the ripple happens again, and again, each time more pronounced. It’s Tuck’s turn to laugh, his eyes glistening with emotion. “She’s not moving. She’s dancing.”
“We don’t know if it’s a she,” I say.
He looks at me. “I think it’s definitely a she.” He holds up a hand. “Can I?”
I grab his hand in reply and put it on my belly. My heart twists when he spreads his fingers, his hand so big he’s practically cradling my bump in a single palm. The image flashes across my mind: Tuck holding a tiny, diapered baby bottom in that hand, the baby’s body curled up against his enormous chest.
Honestly, could I be falling any harder for this man?
The baby kicks, and he laughs again. “Feisty. Just like her mama.”
“That’s right. We like the feisty ones, don’t we, Katie?”
Tuck groans. “I’m gonna be so outnumbered it’s not even funny.”
Katie is pushing Tuck’s hand out of the way. “Take turns, Daddy.”
