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“I have over one-hundred—” She broke off as a yawn rolled through her.
He pushed her head down on his shoulder. “Rest.”
“But—”
“Harper?”
“Yeah?”
“Take a break.”
She sighed and sagged against him. Another yawn made the decision for her. Being pregnant meant slowing down a little, no matter what her schedule was. And he really was so comfortable and warm.
*~*
Deacon woke with a bundle of warm sunshine in his arms. Her long blond hair tangled around his forearm and wrist as they ended up in their usual position—spooning. The room was dark, save for the Christmas tree lights. Their nap had put them right into the heart of evening. He peered at his watch. Oh yeah, definitely more like half a night’s sleep than a nap.
But they’d needed it. In the week since they’d gotten home from their honeymoon, they’d gone to see Harper’s doctor. His head was full of baby information, as well as a list of books to read and some tips on how to take care of Harper.
Now that they were both all the way on-board the baby train, they’d fallen into an easy rhythm of closeness followed directly by bouts of panic. Harper covered hers up in work, but he seemed to know when she needed extra contact. He wasn’t sure if it was because he was hyper-aware of anything to do with her, or if he just needed the connection himself.
She stirred in his arms, her distracting butt crowded into the front of his jeans. The thin postage stamp-sized throw he’d pulled over them was twisted around her legs, leaving her belly exposed. He cupped the barely there swell, brushing his thumb along the soft skin.
Her nails scored lightly over his forearm. “You let me sleep too long.”
“I didn’t have the heart to wake you.”
She rolled onto her back, and he wrapped his arm around her. So freaking beautiful. The whole pregnancy glow was definitely not a myth. He’d never seen her more radiant or tired at the same time.
When she covered his hand on her stomach, he smiled down at her. “Next Christmas we’ll have toys under that tree you know.”
“Lots of them. Under all that bluster from the guys in the band, all of them are going to spoil the holy hell out of this kid.”
Deacon laughed. “You think so?”
“Yep. I already caught Simon buying rude onesies.”
“This does not surprise me.”
She turned into him. The twinkle lights turning her hair a burnished gold. “I really liked the ‘Walker Bait’ one.”
He snorted. “He needs a keeper.”
“No one would want that job.”
“This is very true.” He slid a silky lock of her hair around his finger. “I’ve missed this.”
Harper slid her thigh over his hip, drawing him down so he covered half of her. “We’ve been on the go since we got home. Between the doctor visits and this last minute party…” She trailed off, brushing her nose along his chin.
“Don’t say party. Forget about the party.” He settled her onto her back and slid down to her belly. “Tell your mom that we are not discussing work.”
She pushed his hair back and smiled at him. “Then you’ll be the one helping me put together chocolate tortes.”
“Deal.” He pushed up her shirt with his chin, dragging his whiskers over her satin skin.
“I should be working.” Harper moaned as he moved higher to coast over her ribs to find the heavy curve of her breast.
“Later.”
