by Amanda Cuff
“Are you impressed?” he asks, wiggling his eyebrows at me.
“Well that depends,” I counter back, watching as he reaches into the drawer to pull out a fresh spoon he dips into the pot.
“On?” he asks, amused.
“If it’s any good, of course.”
“Okay, smartass, come have a taste for yourself then.” He blows on the spoon lightly, trying to cool the broth without sending it flying everywhere.
His eyes are on me as I rise and saunter his way. I tell myself I can’t help the way my growing hips sway with every movement, but I still enjoy the way his eyes appreciate me as they do.
When I make it over to him, he gives the broth one final blow then raises it to my lips. I sip it with a moan then giggle at my ridiculousness. I’m so easy to please nowadays, but this is nothing short of delicious.
“Let’s dance,” he offers, tossing the spoon over his shoulder.
He raises his eyebrows in surprise when it clinks in the metal sink, then wraps one arm around my waist while the other grabs my hand. I hesitate for only a moment before melting against him and allowing him to shuffle me around the room.
“But there’s no music,” I say. I rest my head against his shoulder, bringing him even closer as my growing stomach pushes into him.
“Haven’t you watched any Hallmark movie?” he asks. “Dancing without music is supposed to be romantic.”
“I think pancakes are romantic.”
“I’m fresh out of pancakes. How do you feel about homemade noodles?” he asks.
“Nothing screams romance like pasta.”
“Are you teasing me?” he asks, pulling back a touch and shooting me a look of offense.
“Of course not!” I gasp.
He laughs, burying his lips on the crown of my head.
Out of the corner of my eye, I see Emily and Willow walk into the room. Emily groans, her hands flying up to cover Willow’s eyes. As an afterthought, she covers her own as well.
“Oh my god. Again, guys?” Emily says. “Seriously, get a room already. There are children in the house!”
Willow giggles, yanking on her mother’s hand to try to see what the fuss is about.
Reluctantly, I pull away from Chase with a laugh
“You are a cock—” Chase begins, pausing for just a beat before he seems to remember Willow’s presence, “roach.”
Emily and I both burst into laughter and when Willow mutters cockroach in confusion, we laugh even harder.
Chase sends me a wink and then turns back to the stove. “Addison,” he says over his shoulder, “I hope you don’t have plans after dinner. I thought we could watch a movie.”
I shrug and smile, watching as Emily hands Willow four handled soup bowls from the cabinet before sitting down in her chair.
“Lucky for you, I just had some time clear up in my schedule,” I reply, walking over and grabbing the tea pitcher from the fridge.
I fill our glasses as Willow sets the bowls down at each of our places. She rights herself, standing with her hands on the back of her chair and eyeing me quizzically. “Are you two flirting?” she asks, shifting her gaze back and forth between the two of us before lowering to her seat.
“Damn right she’s flirting with me!” Chase bellows. He brings over the large pot of soup and begins ladling our bowls full. “Better get used to it.”
When he’s finished, his eyes roam between us all—first to Willow, then Emily, and finally, to me. They linger a few extra moments and even though he doesn’t say a word, his gaze tells me everything I need to know.
✽✽✽
“A blindfold, huh? That’s kinda kinky.”
His response is a throaty laugh. It sends a wave of warm breath along my neck and a stroke of chills down my spine. When he finishes securing the blindfold, he grabs my ponytail and pulls it to the side before placing his lips where it had grazed.
He sighs once before I feel my ponytail smack back against my neck and his heat pull away from me. His rough hands slide down my arms before clasping my hand in his.
“Let’s go before we don’t make it out of here at all,” he says.
“Is that an option?” I ask, but I allow him to pull me along gently.
“No way,” he says. “First, you need this.”
I hear him open the front door and rustle around before placing a large sweatshirt over my head. As if I’m made of glass, he delicately puts my arms through the arm holes before I feel him start to roll up the sleeves. It feels familiar.
“Wait a second, is this my hoodie?” I ask, referring to the sweatshirt I commandeered the first night we spent together. He laughs while finishing up the second arm.
“Yeah, baby, it’s your hoodie,” he says. “Gotta set the mood, right? I’m going to pick you up now. You ready?”
“Wait, what?”
“I’m not taking the chance of you falling down these stairs,” he says.
“It’s just a few steps. I’ll be fine!” But I feel one strong arm around my back while the other wraps under my knees. “Chase, no! Oh my god!”
He lifts me up to his chest without another word and carries me through the doorway and down the steps without even a little extra huff in his breath. After a few more steps, he says, “Putting you down now.”
My feet barely hit the ground before he’s untying the blindfold and sticking it into the back pocket of his jeans.
“In case we need it,” he says, grinning.
I tuck my bottom lip between my teeth and consider it. Naked, underneath Chase, unable to see where his lips and fingers are searching.
Yeah, I could get on board with that.
“Later,” he whispers. He leans forward and gives me a light kiss then grabs my shoulders and spins me around to face the backyard.
A projector is set up near the barn, a large image of a woman’s face displayed on the side. Chase’s truck is parked a few yards away and the truck bed is filled with a blowup mattress, pillows, and blankets.
“Wow, Chase, this is incredible.” I swear his shoulders get even wider. I’m not sure I’ve ever seen him look prouder of himself than he does right now.
“I’m glad you like it,” he says, grabbing my hand and leading me over to the truck.
A big, white bucket is on the ground by the open tailgate. He helps me step up onto it and into the truck, then walks over to the projector and pushes a few buttons on his laptop before following behind me. I watch the barn light up as cozies up beside me.
“What are we watching?” I ask him.
“When Harry Met Sally. Have you seen it?”
I shake my head no.
“It’s Emily’s favorite movie. It was either this or Finding Nemo, so I hope I chose wisely.”
“I’m sure it’ll be great,” I say. “When you said we were watching a movie, I had no clue it would be this extravagant. I thought we’d be hanging out on the couch.”
“I did say I was going for romance tonight. I only wish I could take you out on the town like you deserve. Maybe to a fancy restaurant where I can’t even pronounce the items on the menu.”
“This is perfect, Chase.”
He shrugs before wrapping his arm around my shoulder and pulling me in to him. I cuddle in close, enjoying the scent of his cologne and the feel of his hoodie encasing me.
“One day, I’ll give you the fancy dinners out. Maybe my parents can babysit for us,” he says.
I turn to look up at him, but his eyes are on the movie playing against the barn. Admittedly, I haven’t paid much attention to it. I’d rather be wrapped up in him.
“Babysit,” I say with a laugh. “It’s hard to believe how much our lives will be changing when this baby joins us in a few months.”
“Are you nervous?” he asks quietly.
“Are you?”
He shrugs and looks down at me thoughtfully. “I’m not nervous that we’re bringing another child into this world. That’s the easy part. But I am nervous about how it
will affect our future.”
I sit up straight, untwining myself from his arms and turning his way. “What do you mean?”
He seems to hesitate before answering. “I just wish we had more time to focus on us and build a relationship. That doesn’t mean I’m not excited for the baby, because I am.” He pauses, taking a deep breath and lacing his fingers with mine. “Honestly, I’m just scared of losing you. I’m scared things will go south and you’ll run off to LA with the baby and the two of you will forget all about me.”
I reach up, dragging my thumb down the wrinkle between his eyebrows. He laughs, relaxing his face and throwing back his head to rest against the cab’s glass.
“I don’t know what the future holds for us, Chase. I wish I could promise that this will work out, that we’ll fall in love and get that happily ever after, but we still have a long way to go.”
I pause, cocking my head at him and sending him a smile. “You never have to worry about me running out on you, though. Even if we don’t work out—for whatever reason—you’re still the father of my child. I’ll never cut you out of our lives.” I feel him nod before dropping his cheek to rest on the top of my head.
We watch the movie for a while then. Or at least he does. His fingers dipping under my shirt and dancing along my skin makes it impossible for me to focus on anything other than his touch. Before I can convince myself better of it, I rise onto my knees, awkwardly scooting around so I can climb onto his lap.
“Déjà vu,” he says softly.
I look down between us, to the bump hidden beneath my clothes, and smile. “Plus one, this time.”
His hands slide up under my shirt, his large palms wrapping around my middle. He pulls on the thickness of my hips gently, nudging me closer to him. Our foreheads connect for only a moment before our lips do. Our kiss is hungry, urgent. The breath leaving his body enters mine and sets my entire body ablaze.
Reluctantly, I pull my lips from his, wriggling to pull my arms out of his big hoodie before I suffocate in the heat of our desire. In my struggle, his thickness connects to my center and I gasp.
“Addi,” he moans. “Jesus Christ.”
Hoodie forgotten, my hips move of their own accord, rotating and grinding my clit on his hard dick.
With a growl, his hands slide underneath the thick fabric and he rips it off me, throwing it over the side of the truck. I press my lips back to his while his fingertips dig into my skin. I rejoice in the sting, secretly hoping marks will be left behind from his touch.
Lust builds in my belly as my hips swivel faster and without any warning, I’m exploding from the inside out, back arched and head thrown back.
When I come back down from my high, I realize his lips are still exploring my neck. Overly sensitive, I giggle at their perusal, grabbing hold of his face and pulling it off me.
“That was so damn hot,” he says with a grin.
“Tell me about it,” I say, suddenly embarrassed that I brought myself to orgasm in a matter of minutes, both of us fully clothed.
“Do you think that was…you know…okay?” he asks, eyes unsure.
“Oh, that was more than okay,” I respond with a laugh. My legs are still shaky, so I adjust myself to sit back down beside him.
“No, I mean, for the baby. I don’t know what the rules are for sex stuff.” He stops and twists his face. “Maybe we should go to the doctor? I feel like Emily had lots of appointments when she was pregnant.”
“Actually, I saw one a few days ago. Dr. Hulbrooke.”
“Oh,” is all he says, but I swear I feel his arm tense beside me.
Crap.
I forgot to tell him about my trip to the doctor’s office.
“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you.” I lean my head back onto his shoulder and wrap my hand around his arm. “It was kind of an emergency and—”
“What do you mean, it was an emergency?” he asks, recoiling as if I slapped him.
“Everything’s fine,” I assure him. “I just had some bleeding for a few days. But the baby is fine, I promise. I should have told you the next day, but I got wrapped up in everything we had going on with Emily.”
“Yeah.” He’s quiet then, before he finally sighs. “I feel like this is partially my fault. So much of my focus has been on Emily. I don’t think we’ve really focused enough on us since you’ve been here. Or the baby, for that matter.”
“Well, I have another appointment in two weeks. They said we could find out the sex then,” I say tentatively.
“Am I invited this time?” he asks.
I laugh, at first thinking he’s joking, but the serious look on his face tells me otherwise. “I really am sorry, Chase.”
“I know. It’s okay.” He places his hand on top of mine and looks down at me. “But moving forward, I need to know if something happens, or if you have an appointment, or if you have so much as a headache. I want to know these things, Addison. You’re not alone anymore. You have people who care about you.”
I nod my head and turn back to the movie, playing those words over and over inside my mind.
You’re not alone anymore.
He’s right, I’m not.
And for the first time since my mother died, I finally feel it to be true.
17
Addison
“Willow, hurry up!” Emily’s attempt at a yell comes out as a rasp and not quite as loud as she probably thinks it is.
She’s tucked into the oversized chair in the corner of her room, wrapped up in an afghan blanket she told me was once her mother’s. A variety of blues and whites are weaved together to create a snowflake design. It brings out both the blue in her eyes and the paleness of her cheeks, making her look especially fragile today. She’s become so thin over the past month that she looks like she’s close to breaking.
Chase must think so too, because he’s standing in the doorway between us, arms crossed over his chest and a frown marring his handsome features.
“Emily, you should really eat something,” he suggests.
Her face morphs from her sweet, pleasant smile into the annoyed look that has taken up an almost permanent residence whenever Chase is around. I grimace, turning my back to them and busying myself with the task at hand on the bathroom counter.
“Tell me what to do one more time, Chase Prescott, and I’m kicking you out,” she retorts.
I don’t hear what he mutters in response before he storms out of the room. I turn around and make a face behind his back, hoping to bring a smile to hers. One corner of her mouth tilts up. It’s small, but I’ll take it.
“I really need him to back off,” she says sadly. “He’s being too overbearing and it’s just making things worse.”
I nod in understanding and walk over to her chair, planting myself down on the side and wrapping my arm around her shoulders. As big as the arm rest is, it barely holds my ass, which has admittedly already started to get bigger. We’re both quiet, leaning into each other and accepting the other’s comfort.
“Want me to talk to him?” I ask, squeezing her gently into a side hug.
“No, I should probably take care of it. Same talk, different day,” she says on a sigh.
She and Chase have been at each other’s throats nonstop lately. He does tend to be a bit much, pushing her to slow down and take better care of herself, and that’s the exact opposite of what she wants from him right now.
“He means well,” I tell her. My side is starting to ache from the stretch of leaning over, so I right myself. “I know it’s a lot sometimes, but he’s really struggling with being so helpless. And you know I would never want you to feel like we were ganging up on you, but it does feel like you’ve stopped caring about taking care of yourself.”
“We’re already close to the end, Addison,” she states. “I can feel it in my bones.”
I blink slowly, trying to digest her words. I want to allow them to wash over me and give me the strength to get through this. But instead, they leave me cold and
empty. I wish there was some secret to navigating the loss we’re all so close to experiencing.
I’m not given much time to dwell on it, because an excited Willow comes bursting into the room, dressed like a mad scientist taking a beach day.
“What in the world are you wearing?” Emily asks before bursting into laughter.
Willow’s eyes fall downward, her hands patting down her front and around to her butt, before landing on her hips. “What?” she exclaims, grinning wide and looking perfectly satisfied with herself.
“Okay, the swimsuit I get,” I say, gesturing toward her sparkly rainbow one-piece. “But what’s with the goggles?”
“They’re for safety! What if hair goes flying or something?”
“She is one hundred percent your child, Em,” Chase says with a laugh, walking back into the room and plopping belly first onto the bed. He pops his chin up on his fists and smiles at me.
“You’re pretty,” he says.
I roll my eyes with a laugh and stand from the chair, ruffling his hair as I pass by. “Okay, Willow, into the bathroom,” I say.
She squeals and runs in behind me, jumping quickly into the warm bath water I’ve already run for her. Water splashes into her face and she smirks and taps her goggles in an I told you so.
I laugh and grab the shaving cream and razor from the sink. A loud scraping sound comes from the bedroom and soon, Emily’s chair is parked right up against the doorway into the bathroom, Chase hovering behind her.
Willow’s eyes dance around to all of us before she shakes her head and holds out her hand. I give her the strawberry scented shaving cream and Emily starts explaining to Willow how to use it.
“Just do one leg at a time. You only need to shave from your knee down,” she says. “So you only need to put it there.”
“Wait, what?” I frown. “You don’t shave your thighs?”
“No, do you?” she asks, seeming both amused and bewildered.
“Of course!”
“My mom always said women who shave their thighs are hussies.” Emily sniffs with mock indignance and we both laugh.