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The door creaked open again before warm arms slipped over his waist from behind. Notes of honey and amber wrapped around him almost as tightly as Charli’s hug. “You doing okay?”
“Just have a headache.”
She threaded her hand through his and led him over to the lawn furniture. Settling onto the couch, she wrapped her sweater tighter around her and motioned to her lap. “Lie down and put your head here.”
He set his drink on the glass table to the side and lay on his back, his legs hanging over the arm of the other end. Her belly pressed into the side of his face as Charli’s fingers massaged his temples.
He groaned. Her touch was like magic, easing the tension and dulling the pain. She worked her fingers all over his scalp, down to the base of his neck and upper shoulders before returning to his temples.
“I love you,” he said.
“I love you too, always.”
He hoped she remembered that promise, because his confession would surely put it to the test.
37
Charli
Charli rolled over in bed and groaned. The blankets were the perfect temperature and the mattress and pillow so cozy. However, the baby jumping on her bladder was not ideal. She pushed the covers off her and waddled to the bathroom. After relieving herself, she washed her hands. The reflection in the mirror stared back at her, rosy cheeked, hair mussed. Her belly stretched against the fabric of Finn’s old T-shirt. She lifted the material and turned sideways. Twenty-six weeks today. She smoothed a hand over the taut skin. We’re more than halfway there, buddy. She craned her head to the side. “Not sure how much room I have left for you to grow.” She chuckled.
Charli brushed her teeth and then went back to the bedroom to change. No sense in returning to bed now.
She headed down to the kitchen. The smell of breakfast wafted up to greet her. Finn had thankfully perfected the art of pancake making. Although, he’d steered away from making eggs after she’d puked from the smell alone and had to leave the house for an entire day until the scent was gone.
“Hey, you.” She grinned.
He smiled back, but it didn’t reach his eyes. After flipping the last pancake in the pan, he plated it and set it on the breakfast bar in front of her.
She climbed onto the stool as he placed a cup of tea and the bottle of maple syrup to the side. “This looks delicious. Thank you.”
“Anything for you.” His gaze locked on to hers, holding her captive.
A sliver of unease rippled through her. “Everything okay?”
Instead of answering, he walked around and took a seat next to her. “Eat up. Gotta keep you nourished.” His hand spread out over the side of her belly.
That was a non-answer if she’d ever heard one. But she was starving. In her second trimester, she’d become a breakfast person after all. She slathered the hotcakes in syrup and cut into them before taking a big bite.
Sweetness exploded on her taste buds. “Mmm, these are so good. Did you already eat?”
“I had my coffee already.”
She frowned and cut another piece, gobbling it up before pushing the plate away. “You going to tell me what’s wrong or are we going to act like you’re giving me straight answers?”
He sighed, rubbing his thumb over a drop of syrup on her chin before sucking it into his mouth. “I need to tell you something, but I wanted you to eat first.”
She straightened. “Just tell me.”
He looked down at his hands, shoulders slumped. “I found another journal entry about your attack.”
“Okay.” She breathed a sigh of relief. He just wanted to talk about that night. She could handle this.
He licked his lips and met her gaze. “The entry made it seem like I knew why it happened. Like it was my fault you were targeted.”
Her brows knit together. “You . . . you were deployed, honey. I’m sure you just felt guilty for not being here to protect me.”
He shook his head. “I don’t think that’s the case. I got a bad feeling it was my fault.”
