“If talking to someone together will help you and me, then that’s what we’ll do.”

He wraps me up in a gentle hug. The kind that tells me without words that we’re in a much better place. “I love you, Momster.”

“I love you, too, Ry-ry. You’ll always be my baby, even when you have your own.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

Home Sweet Home

Hanna

I EXPECT THERE to be an adjustment period when I move into Jake’s place, even though we’ve been spending several nights a week at each other’s places. Apart from getting used to each other’s routines and habits, it’s fairly seamless.

Jake is an easy guy to live with. He’s tidy, organized, and the only thing I can really complain about is the fact he often leaves his socks in very random places around the house. Apparently, he gets hot easily, and when that happens, his socks come off.

I’ve taken to tossing them on his recliner, which hasn’t been getting much use these days since he’s migrated to the couch so he can sit with me in the evenings.

He hands me a bowl of ambrosia salad—something my mom used to make when I was a kid, and I perfected by the time I was a teenager because I loved it so much. And just like when I was pregnant with Ryan, I can’t seem to get enough of it. I’m very grateful my dairy aversion has let up in the final trimester of my pregnancy.

Jake drops down on the couch beside me, and, as expected, props his foot on the coffee table and shucks off his socks, dropping them onto the floor.

I spear a chunk of pineapple and chase a mini-marshmallow around the bowl. “I have an idea.”

“If it includes leaving a laundry basket in every room for my socks, I’m game.”

I roll my eyes and grin, but give him the side-eye. “You know, if you really want to cool down faster, you could always take your shirt off instead of your socks.”

“You just want to ogle my dad bod.” He runs his hand over his abs. He’s gained a few pounds along with me, possibly because I’ve been a fiend for chocolate pudding and all things chocolate, period. I’ve gone down to part-time at work, and I’ve been on modified bed rest since my visit to the hospital. It means I’ve had a lot of spare time, and I’ve spent quite a bit of it making easy, but delicious food. While sitting down, of course.

But while my belly is swollen, his is still mostly a four-pack.

“Well, duh.” I pop a mandarin slice into my mouth. “Of course I want to ogle you.”

He gives me a smirk that makes everything below the waist clench. My hormones are ridiculous right now. But I’m as big as a house, and sex is off the table until the baby is born. Not because I don’t want to have it, but because my doctor is concerned an orgasm is going to raise my blood pressure too much. I’m scheduled for an induction at thirty-eight weeks. But that’s still a week away.

“But then my shirts would be all over the place, too.”

“Your socks aren’t all over the place, they’re right there. You probably have enough to do a sock load.” I motion to his lounger with the fork before I close my lips around it.

“Well, shit. I mean shoot.” His fingers find the hem of my shirt, and he lifts it until about six inches of my belly is exposed. He leans over and presses his lips to my skin and whispers, “Sorry, little man. I didn’t mean to swear.”

As if he can hear his dad talking to him, a fist or an elbow moves across my belly. I’ve been having Braxton Hicks contractions on and off for the past week. Ryan was two weeks early, and being older means there’s a greater likelihood that this little guy is going to make an appearance before the due date, too.

I set my bowl aside so I can run my fingers through Jake’s hair while he coos at my stomach. He’s been amazing these past months, and what started as a mutual attraction has shifted. Especially since we had the scare and I moved in here. That’s what it took for me to finally come to terms with the fact that baby or no baby, we had something special. And it would be a lot easier on all of us if we gave our relationship the chance it deserved to evolve during the final months of my pregnancy.

He’s become my confidant, my biggest supporter, and my best friend. He’s thoughtful, kind, and compassionate. He’s driven, intense, and take-charge in his work life. He’s an incredible, attentive lover and partner. And I can’t wait to raise this child with him, because I already know what a phenomenal father he is.

_______________

THE NEXT NIGHT there’s a game in Seattle. I sometimes attend them with the girls, but with me being so far along, it’s tough to sit in one of those seats for three hours. And I constantly have to pee, so I’ll have to wait until after the baby arrives before I can go again.

Tonight, Queenie is keeping me company. She arrives as Jake is heading out the door.

“I’ll have my phone on me the entire time. Call if you need anything.” He puts his hand on my belly but directs the comment at Queenie.

I smooth my hands over the lapels of his suit jacket and adjust his tie. “We’ll be fine. Go do your job.”

“My job is to make sure you and JJ are comfortable before anything else.” He presses a lingering kiss to my lips.

“We’re good. And I have Queenie. I’ll see you in a few hours.”

I send him out the door, and Queenie and I settle in to watch the game.

“How are you feeling? Can I get you anything?” Queenie’s sitting at the other end of the couch, hand stitching felt animals for the mobile she’s making for the baby.

“I’m good.” I shift around, trying to get comfortable, but my lower back has been aching all day. Probably because I snuck in a quick vacuum when Jake went out to pick up more fruit for me. It’s basically all I’ve been eating the past few days.

“Are you sure? You keep grimacing. Do you want me to move the laundry from the lounger and you can sit there?”

“Those are your dad’s dirty socks.”

Queenie’s nose wrinkles. “You’re not serious.”

“Oh, I totally am.” I rub my belly when it feels like JJ is doing somersaults. “He’s moving, want to feel?”

“Oh! Yes!” Queenie slides across the couch, and I take her hand, placing it over my belly as JJ does another spin in his cramped quarters. “He’s really moving around in there, isn’t he?”

“This is his most active time of day.” I pat my belly. “Not long now, little man.” I cringe at the sharp pain that shoots across my stomach.

“Are you okay?”

“I’m fine. Lots of Braxton Hicks lately. And I’ve been eating a ton of fruit, so that’s been a thing.”

I manage to make it to the end of the first period before I have to waddle to the bathroom. I don’t even get the door closed before a gush of warmth makes me pause. For a second I think I’ve peed my pants, until I realize I haven’t.

“Oh crap.” I watch as the grey sweats darken at the crotch.

When I gave birth to Ryan, it all happened so fast. Faster than I thought possible. I had a midwife, and we’d planned a home birth. Something that wasn’t as common as it is these days. My parents had wanted to limit the number of people who knew I was pregnant. He’d been in breech, and it had taken time to get him turned around. It hadn’t been comfortable, and I hadn’t had an epidural, but within four hours of my first contraction, I’d been holding him in my arms.