by BJ Harvey
“I’d stay and talk if I could, but I’ll leave you to it. Gilly and I were just discussing her workload moving forward.” He turns back to his daughter. “If you could get back to me by Monday with your thoughts on what I’ve proposed, that would be appreciated.”
“Sure, Keith. I’ll get right on that,” she says sarcastically. She stands in what is clearly a signal to her father that his conversation with her—and me—is now over.
“I’ll catch up with you tomorrow,” he says to Gilly.
“I’m taking a personal day tomorrow. I’ll be back in the office Monday.”
Keith looks at his daughter like she’s grown another head, his jaw tight as he just nods and—wisely—doesn’t argue with her. He turns my way. “Nice to see you again, Ezra.” Then he walks past me and disappears out of the room like a hurricane on a mission.
“Are you ready to go?” she asks, her tone soft. When I close the distance between us and pull her into my arms, she melts into me with an almighty sigh.
“I’m so mad I almost cried!”
“Sweetheart,” I say, my lips twitching. “You’re pregnant. We already know our son has turned you into a happy crier. It’s not a stretch to think that carries over to when you’re mad, too.”
“Growing up, crying was seen as a sign of weakness. I really didn’t want to cry in front of my father.”
“You want to get it all out now? Have at it. I’ve got you. It’s in no way a weakness—not to me.”
She looks up at me, her eyes brimming with tears. “Now they’re happy tears. Stop making me cry, dammit,” she says with an adorable pouty sob.
I lean my head closer. “You wanna kick me in the nuts, so I cry too?”
She dips her chin and face plants into my chest. I draw her in closer and tighten my arms around her. Her shoulders shake, and she finally purges all that bottled up anger. At least, I think she does, until her undeniable snort of laughter reaches my ears.
A few moments later, she pulls back and gifts me one of her beautiful beaming smiles. “I love you. Even more than pasta.”
My lips quirk up. “I love you too, and I’m not sure there’s anyone I’ve ever loved more.”
Instead of kissing me like I’d hoped, she rears back and gently whacks my chest. “Stop making me cry.”
“I didn’t.”
“Or saying things that could make me cry.” She smiles up at me, and I feel ten feet tall. My eyes roam over her face, making sure she’s truly okay. Satisfied that she’s good to go, I press on. “Should we go to your check-up now?”
“Yep. And then we’ll grab some pasta on the way home.”
“I said stop,” she says with a sniffle.
“I was offering food!” I protest, helping her put her coat on, then holding out my arm for hers.
“Saying things that have the potential to make me cry count as well.”
“I should just shut up then?” I smirk.
She sighs, resting her cheek against my arm. “It’s probably for the best.”
“You’re lucky you’re cute.”
“I know.”
“And sexy.”
“Yep.
“And really good with that mouth, ’cause you’re totally making this up to me later,” I muse, pressing my lips to the top of her head.
“Now, that’s something I can definitely do.”
Gilly
We ended up having a quiet night at home last night—doctor and Ezra’s orders—after my OB checkup. My blood pressure was elevated and, given I’d been experiencing extended periods of Braxton Hicks contractions, I was warned about the pregnancy complications I was facing if I didn’t take steps to reduce my stress levels and get the rest my body was clearly asking for.
Thankfully everything with the baby looks good. He has a strong heartbeat, was moving around like crazy during the scan, and his measurements are all on track for twenty-six weeks gestation. To cover all bases, the doctor also sent me off for the gestational diabetes glucose test, which I did this morning.
Given I’d already planned a personal day anyway, I stayed home and caught up on chores while Jamie and a few contractors worked upstairs.
The renovations are due to be finished in a couple of weeks, then all that’s left to do is move my bedroom upstairs and decorate the nursery.
But there are still a lot of variables to consider before any decisions are made, which is why I’m going to cook dinner for us tonight and hopefully talk about all the baby-related things we need to start thinking about with only fourteen weeks to go.
I’m in my bedroom when my phone starts ringing on the kitchen counter.
“Hey, baby daddy.”
“Why are you panting?” Ezra asks. There’s so much background noise, you’d think he was standing in a wind tunnel.
“I rushed from the bedroom.”
“You’re supposed to be resting.”
I roll my eyes. “And I would be if I hadn’t left my phone in the kitchen. Sheesh, dude. Take a chill pill.”
Ezra laughs in my ear. “Maybe I’ll have to tie you to the bed next time I leave you on it.”
“If you meant that in a dirty way, I’d totally let you. But since you’re saying you’d do it to force me to rest, I’m withdrawing my previous statement. No kinky tie-down games for you!”
He groans, making me smile. Take that, bossy baby daddy. “How are you feeling now? Better than yesterday?”
“I’m good. I’ve been mostly behaving myself like you and Dr Cameron ordered.”
He chuckles. “Wonders will never cease.”
“I’m not that bad, am I?”
“You do seem to jump between the speeds-of-sloth slow and Roadrunner rapid, Gilly. Your body is simply waving a white flag and telling you it needs you to cut it some slack. You’re growing a human, sweetheart. That’s going to take it out of you.”
“Yeah, I know. I’m trying,” I say with a sigh. “How has your day been so far?”
“Well, apart from Jamie texting me to say you have been up and down the stairs three times already and…” His voice drops lower. “You might wanna tell your girlfriend that climbing up and down stairs to offer us drinks and food isn’t taking things easy.’”
“He’s such a snitch,” I gripe, and he laughs.
“He’s doing what I asked him to do, which is to make sure you behave yourself.”
“I’m not a child, Ez,” I reply petulantly.
“Pouting won’t help you either.”
“I’m not pouting.”
“Yeah, she is,” Jamie calls out. My head snaps to the doorway to find the man in question leaning against the frame, grinning at me.
“You’re such a rat,” I say, poking my tongue out at him.
Jamie walks over and bends down closer to the phone. “Ezraaaaa, your girlfriend is calling me naaaaameeees.”
Jamie straightens and gives me a short wave. “We’re done for today. Ezra and I should be able to finish up the last of it by the end of next week.”
I gasp, my previous bratty mood gone. “Really?”
Jamie smiles. “Yeah. You can thank your baby daddy for cracking the whip. Apparently, there’s nesting to be done and a nursery to be prepared, just in case a certain baby decides to jump ship early. Anyway, I’ve got a son to pick up from school and a wife I’d rather spend time with than a hammer and some nails. Have a good weekend.”
“Thank you, Jamie. I really appreciate it.”
“Tell him I do too,” I hear in my ear.
“Ez says ditto.”
Jamie shakes his head, his lips twitching. “I don’t think I’ve ever heard him say ditto.”
I shrug. “I was paraphrasing.”
“Okay. I’m off. I’ll let myself out. See you next week.” With a final wave, Jamie leaves, and moments later, I’m alone in my house.
“What would you like for dinner tonight? I’m cooking.”
“No, you’re not.”
“Ez…” I groan. “Somet
imes, I want to take care of you too, and since I have the energy right now, I thought I’d cook for you.”
“Gilly…” he says, mimicking my tone. “Save that energy for after I take you out for a meal tonight.”
“Oh,” I whisper, instantly looking forward to a change of scenery and adult conversation.
“I was thinking we could go somewhere,” Ez says.
“Okay. Should I meet you there or—”
“Gilly.” He sounds amused. “Taking it easy doesn’t mean driving downtown to meet me when I’m already heading to your place anyway, and I’m sleeping in your bed tonight regardless.”
“Alright then.”
“Remember what the doctor said. Resting isn’t just about physically not doing anything. It’s about slowing your mind too.”
I huff out a breath. “Do you know how hard that is for someone like me?”
“Yes. Which is why I can guarantee you’ve probably checked your work email at least twice today.”
“Maybe…” I grumble.
He sighs. “Knew you would.”
“But,” I say, compelled to elaborate, “you’ll be pleased to know I’ve only been reading through discovery documents my assistant scanned for me, and I’ve ignored anything involving my father.”
“Good, sweetheart. Did you make any decisions surrounding him?”
“I’m getting there.”
“It’s your call, sweetheart. I’ll support whatever you choose to do. But remember that anything that winds you up should be avoided. You and our son are the most important things in the world to me.”
I hiccup, and he huffs out a quiet laugh.
“I totally made you cry, didn’t I?”
“You think you know everything,” I reply, a little haughtily.
“That’s because I know you well.”
“You do realize that you being right gets really annoying, don’t you?”
“Yet, you love me anyway.”
A resigned sigh escapes my lips. “Yeah, but only because you’re hot and good in bed, and thoughtful, and you hopefully have made a really cute baby with me.”
“Yeah, sure they’re the only reasons,” he replies dryly.
“Where are you? It sounds like you’re standing in the middle of a runway.”
“Driving with the windows open.”
“Oh.”
“If you’re good and slowly go get ready, I’ll take the scenic route to the restaurant.”
I frown. “Where exactly are you taking me that there would be a scenic way there?”
“That’s for me to know, and you to find out.”
“Oh, all right then.”
“Good girl.”
“I won’t be good if you call me that again.”
He laughs again. “I better let you go before I really set you off then.”
“Probably for the best,” I say wryly.
“I love you.”
“Love you too. I’m going to make myself look really good now and then cock-block you later as punishment.”
“It’s okay, baby mama,” he says, and I can tell he’s smiling. “Because I know all the ways to change your mind.”
“And if none of those work?”
“I’ll just go into your shower and jerk off so you can watch.”
I clench my thighs together, and his low chuckle tells me he knows I’m doing it. “You don’t play fair.”
“Nope. And I never will when it comes to making you hot for me. See you in about twenty minutes. Bye,” he says, ending the call.
With a smile on my face, I slowly close my laptop and move through the house to my bedroom. I’ve got an adorable maternity dress that arrived earlier this week that I know will drive Ezra crazy. Never has there been a better occasion to wear it.
He turned me on—now I’m going to repay the favor.
But I’m still making him give me a show in the shower.
He, at least owes me that much.
“This is unexpected,” I say, having just been seated.
Ezra smiles wryly across the table from me. “Matt recommended it to me. He brought Mia and his daughters here, and said everything on the menu was well worth the trip.”
“Hence the scenic route,” I muse.
“Exactly.”
A waiter walks up to our table and asks for our order. After ordering a vegetarian linguine for me and ricotta and spinach tortellini with black truffle for Ezra, as well as sparkling water, we’re left alone again.
Reaching his arm out, he gently clasps my hand, lacing his fingers with mine.
“So, apart from playing unnecessary hostess and checking your work email,” he says, knowingly, “how was your day?”
“It was good,” I reply, relishing in how much I like the slow back and forth glides of his thumb against my skin.
“And the glucose test?”
I scrunch up my face. “Gross, but okay. How about you? Mister Go Out and Buy a New Car.”
He grins and looks at our joined hands. “We’re growing our little family so it doesn’t make sense to have a flashy sports car when I should really have something more practical, reliable…”
“A dad-mobile,” I deadpan.
He chuckles. “Yeah. Something like that.”
I tilt my head. “And was this a spur-of-the-moment decision, or was there research involved?”
He smirks. “A bit of column A, a bit of column B.”
“I approve of your spontaneous vehicle purchase, even if it is a surprise,” I say, earning a quiet chuckle.
“I’m just waiting for the shit I’m gonna get for it from the guys.”
“Considering I overheard Jamie talking to Jase today about the merits of a mini-van over a station wagon, I’m not sure there’s much they can say.”
“Good to know. I’ll keep that little tidbit to myself just in case I need to use it.”
“So, first the dad-wagon—what’s next? A house with a white picket fence and a dog?”
His eyes roam my face, studying me. Before he can answer, our drinks arrive along with a small complimentary antipasto platter.
“Jamie called me today. He said upstairs will be ready by the end of next week,” he says and pops an olive into his mouth.
I can’t help my smile. “Yep. You know what that means?”
“Shopping?”
I lean in to my elbow on the table. “Lots of shopping.”
“I guess that means we need to go choose paint colors this weekend.”
“Mm-hmm,” I hum in appreciation of the amazing bite of Bolognese-stuffed cabbage I just ate. “Oh my God, you’ve got to try this.” Taking my fork, I spear a small piece of the flavor-explosion appetizer and crook my finger at my date. “C ’mere, baby daddy. There’s nothing better you could have in your mouth right now.”
His eyes twinkle with humor. “I can think of a couple of things,” he murmurs, his eyes dropping to my mouth then to the low dip of my dress between my breasts.
I clear my throat, fighting against the lust-induced haze he’s creating. “Open up, Ez.”
Gaze locked with mine, he parts his lips, and I slowly place the cabbage bite on his tongue.
I sit there watching the muscles in his throat work as he chews and swallows. His eyes widen as I imagine the flavors hit his senses. “Damn. That is good.”
“I told you,” I say with a smirk. “So good, I don’t think I want to share the rest.”
He leans back in his chair, an amused grin playing on his lips. “Have at it. You’re growing our son. Whatever you want is whatever you’ll get.”
My brows lift. “Really? I might have to remember that.”
“Your mind is particularly dirty tonight,” he muses. “We can entertain all of those thoughts later, sweetheart. For now,” he says, looking over my shoulder then back to me, “let’s enjoy our pasta and have some scintillating conversation while we’re still double-income, no kids.”
I narrow my eyes at him, pointing my empty for
k his way. “Who are you, and where is Ezra Baker?” I tease.
“He’s reevaluating his life and where he wants it to go.” His expression turns serious. “And he’s also looking at his future sitting opposite him, looking gorgeous and happy and a little more relaxed than she was yesterday.”
“You’re good for me.”
“Sorry, sweetheart, but I think you’ll find it’s entirely the other way around.” His smile is so sincere, so earnest, so one hundred percent genuine that I’m kicking myself for not falling in love with this amazing man sooner.
“So, was there a particular reason for our impromptu date night?”
“I like changing it up now and then.”
“I’ve noticed,” I reply. “But what if I want to surprise you for once?”
He leans back in his chair, resting his hands on his head. He nods toward my baby belly. “Well… you kind of have me beat there already.”
I tilt my chin and look up at him, a sly smile on my face. “You played a big part in that too, Ez.”
“Best twist of fate ever,” he says softly. “It was the kick up my ass I needed to see what was in front of my eyes—or in my bed—all along.”
“To be fair, it was mostly my bed.”
“Touché. That was mainly because you were playing hard to get.”
“That’s ’cause I like my house.”
“Good because I like it too.”
“Wanna move in with me?” I ask, just as he says, “I think I should live with you.”
Our mouths both slam shut. Our expressions are mirror images of shock. Did that really just happen?
“Holy shit. Really?” he says, laughing as he does it.
I can’t wipe the grin off my face despite those stupid damn pregnancy hormones filling my eyes with tears. “Just don’t propose to me anytime soon. I’m not planning on going anywhere. I kind of love you.”
Ezra’s lips twitch as he slides his chair back, stands, and moves around to my side of the table. He leans down, his expression is intense, full of all the love and devotion any woman would dream to have given to her by a man—by this man.
He lifts his hand to cradle my jaw while tilting my chin up and dipping his head down. “You want to live with me, Gilly Nelson?”
I quirk a brow. “Do you want to live with me?”