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Her hand covers mine, and her warm ass sinks against my stirring cock. She slides my hand until I feel Willow’s body moving, her tiny rump rolling over like I woke her up as well.
“Are you awake?”
“No,” she murmurs, but I can hear the smile in her voice. “We’re sleeping.”
Since Katy hit her third trimester, her body has been struggling a bit. Her blood sugars are harder to control regardless of diet or insulin and her kidneys are fighting even harder than they had to before. The plan is to induce her at thirty-seven weeks—which is in three weeks—to give her body the break it needs and keep the baby as healthy as we can.
So yeah, I should let her sleep. I should wait another hour to wake her with kisses or my face between her thighs. But when a man reaches his breaking point, waiting is no longer an option. It has to be now because now is how we’ll start forever, and I can’t wait any longer to have forever with her.
“I was wondering if you wanted to marry me?”
She stiffens—as I knew she would—and then slowly twists until she’s on her back, but that’s not a safe position for her as it compresses her vena cava, so I take my pillow and slide it under her back, so it tilts her more on her left side and facing me.
In the darkness of the room, she blinks her pretty blue eyes open and stares up into mine. “Did you just?—”
“Ask you to marry me? Yes. I did. But before you say no, hear me out.”
“If I must.”
I try not to smirk. “Katy baby, you changed my life. When I’m with you, you see me, and I see you. We see each other, and we love everything we see. Even the not-so-great stuff, we still love because it’s part of what makes us who we are. That’s not something you find every day. That’s rare and special and the stuff of meant to be. I’ve always been in love with you. You are my partner, my best friend, my lover, my heart. And I don’t want to live another day without you as mine.” I climb on top of her, pressing my forearms into the pillow on either side of her head. “Marry me, Katy. Not for the baby, but for us.”
Her gaze flickers back and forth between mine and then she freezes, her body going stiff once more. In a heartbeat, she shoves me off and scrambles to sit—scrambles to flee—and my heart plummets. She shoots out of bed and heads straight for the bathroom.
“Katy?” It’s all I’ve got. This is not the reaction I thought she’d have. I’ll be honest. I wasn’t sure she’d say yes. I mean, not a hundred percent anyway. That’s part of the reason why it took me so long to get here. I’ve heard her say on more than one occasion that she doesn’t need to be married. That it’s not an important component of her life and happiness.
“Bennett, I think my water is leaking,” she calls out to me, and now it’s my turn to scramble out of bed, chasing after her into the bathroom. She’s sitting on the toilet, her eyes wide and her lips parted to accommodate her extra breaths as breathing has become impossibly hard.
I sink into a crouch in front of her and take her hand. “Are you sure?”
“Fluid is straight up leaking out of my vagina and into the toilet and you’re asking me if I’m sure?”
Touché. “I’m going to call your doctor’s office and let them know we’re on our way to the hospital. Don’t move. Just stay there and keep your body relaxed. Are you having any contractions?”
She shakes her head, her chin trembling. “It’s too soon.”
I press my forehead to hers. “Thirty-four weeks is early, but a lot of babies are born at thirty-four weeks and do just fine.”
“Owen was thirty-four weeks.”
“See. Exactly. Just breathe. It’ll be okay.”
She gives me a shaky nod, her eyes welling up with tears, and my heart breaks. I kiss her forehead. I kiss her lips. I don’t want to leave her like this, but I have to.
“I’m going to get dressed and grab you some clothes. I’ll be right back.” I cup her jaw. “Okay? Are you with me, sweetheart?”
“I’ll be here.”
I plant another kiss on her forehead, my lips pressing in with desperation, and then I release her and fly through the bedroom like the psycho I feel like. I’m a trauma surgeon. Working under pressure is what I do best, and I typically do it without breaking a sweat.
Except I’m fucking sweating now.
It’s like I’ve never dressed myself in my life. I don’t know what to put on. What I’m supposed to wear. I end up throwing on a pair of joggers and a white T-shirt. As for Katy’s clothes, I’m at a loss. I simply stand here, staring at her drawers and hanging things in her closet.
“Bennett?”
“Yeah?” I yell back as I scratch the back of my head, stranded in my indecision.
“Grab me the black dress that’s hanging all the way down at the end in the closet. Beneath it on the floor is my bag. It’s already packed.”
