Forever With You

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Forever With You Page 16

by J. Lynn


  A huge part of me was hoping that watching a movie was code word for let’s get naked, but as I picked out something I thought he’d be interested in—­the movie 300—­and he returned with a slew of snacks, we did just what he’d said.

  Sitting side by side, we watched all the airbrushed abs flounce across the screen—­or that’s what I paid attention to. I replayed memories of all the guys I’d hung out with and even the guy I dated in high school, and I couldn’t recall a time where I found myself watching a movie with a guy and eating junk food while wanting nothing more than to just straddle him and get down to business.

  Usually I didn’t sit and watch movies with a guy I wanted to do dirty, dirty things with, and not do said things. This was a first for me, and I sort of liked it. No. Not sort of. I really did enjoy it.

  Nick’s warmth seeped out from him and bled into me. Once I stopped shoving food in my mouth, I found myself leaning into him. Not on purpose. It wasn’t something I was wholly aware of, but at some point my entire right side was pressed against his left, and his left arm was dropped along the back of the couch.

  It felt . . . right.

  Eventually my eyelids became too heavy to keep open. I fought the lull of sleep, because seriously, I didn’t need to fall asleep on Nick, but it was no use. Snuggled up against him, more comfortable than I could ever remember, I slipped into a peaceful sleep.

  Chapter 16

  I was warm, not too hot, but the toasty warmth pricked up my consciousness. I was slow to wake up and the cobwebs of sleep lingered even as I blinked my eyes open. My brows furrowed as I stared at the TV. The volume was turned down, but I could tell it was some weird info commercial. Faint light filtered in through the window.

  What the . . . ?

  It was that moment when I realized I wasn’t alone. My breath caught in my throat as my surroundings started to make sense. Curled up on my side, my back was pressed against the source of all the hard heat.

  Nick.

  Oh my jeebus, I remembered falling asleep on the couch, but in those moments before I had slipped under, I honestly didn’t think Nick would’ve stayed. My eyes widened as I took stock of the situation. Nick’s body was curved around mine, and I knew this couldn’t be the most comfortable sleeping position for him. He was a tall guy, and this couch was cramped.

  But he was here, his hand not resting on my hip, but on my lower stomach. In the pale light of dawn, I stared at his hand in a strange sort of wonder. Had he placed his hand there on purpose? It was such a protective, male gesture. Or had he done it while asleep?

  Either way, it did something to me. Sharp tingles shot from where his hand rested and spread below in a warm wave of shivers. It also formed a knot in my chest and in my throat. Like when he asked to feel my stomach last night, I was shocked and my . . . my entire being was moved. Combine all of that with what he told me about his grandfather, I was beginning to see who Nick really was. Some of the missing puzzle pieces were appearing and clicking into place. Not all, but some.

  As I stared at Nick’s hand, a very important sense of knowledge filled me. Nick would be a great father. I didn’t know a whole lot about him, but based on what he did and sacrificed for his grandfather, I had no doubt he would approach fatherhood the same way. Not to mention he didn’t see any of what he was doing to take care of his grandfather as a sacrifice. He was . . . he was a good person—­a great person.

  Tension that had settled in my shoulders and back since I found out I was pregnant began to slowly ease. It was like an awakening. No matter what went down between Nick and I, he would be there for our . . . for our child. I wasn’t in this alone.

  But as I stared at his hand, I also realized that I didn’t want him to just be the father of our child. I wanted to find the rest of those puzzle pieces and figure him out. I wanted to know what it felt like to be kissed by him, and I wanted to know what it felt like to actually . . . make love with him. This sudden need went deeper than the physical.

  I wanted him to mean more to me.

  I wanted to mean more to him.

  Yes, getting pregnant was what really brought us back together, but it didn’t have to be the only reason.

  Carefully, I shifted so I was on my back. His hand remained where it was, splayed across my lower stomach, the weight comforting. A moment passed and his thumb moved in a slow circle, a very slow and precise circle, just below my navel.

  Nick was awake.

  I lifted my chin, and my gaze locked with a sleepy, light green eye. My pulse kicked up as his thumb continued to move, now in a half circle. I drew in a deep breath as my body really started to wake up and get on board with the closeness. The tips of my breasts tightened, straining against the soft cups of my bra. With each breath I took, the arousal grew and I became painfully aware of it.

  “Mornin’,” Nick said, his voice abrasive with sleep.

  I repeated the greeting, but I barely heard it. I was too busy staring at him. A faint shadow covered his jaw. His hair was a disheveled mess, the short ends standing up in every direction, and the slight smile on his face gave him quite the boyish look.

  Clearing my thoughts, I focused on something to say and then stated the obvious. “I fell asleep.”

  “You did.” Humor filled his eyes as he lifted his head, twisting it side to side as if he was working out a kink.

  “You stayed.”

  His gaze slowly glided over my face as he settled back down. “I did. You were just too cozy and warm to leave. You mad about that?”

  “No.” Quite the opposite. “I didn’t mean to fall asleep.”

  “I didn’t mind. I liked this.”

  My heart started doing this little dance in my chest. “But what about your grandfather?”

  “I texted the nurse. She stayed. Needed the overtime, I guess, because she was really happy about it.”

  I lowered my gaze. “I hope that didn’t cost you a lot.”

  “It didn’t.”

  That couldn’t be entirely true. In-­home nurses had to charge a pretty penny, but I was pleased that he stayed. Really pleased.

  “By the way,” he drawled. “You snore.”

  My eyes flew to him. “What?”

  “Yep.” He grinned down at me. “You sound like a baby chain saw.”

  “I do not snore!”

  His gaze was hooded. “How would you know? You’re asleep.”

  I opened my mouth to protest, but he was right, how would I know? I never slept with a guy, not even the one I dated in high school, and while I was in college, my roommate had a habit of sleeping with ear buds in. Oh my God, maybe that was why she did that.

  “Do I really snore?”

  He looked serious for all about two seconds and then chuckled. “No. You don’t snore. I was lying.”

  “You ass!” I screwed up my face as I smacked his arm. “Here I was thinking I actually sounded like a chain saw.”

  “A baby chain saw,” he corrected.

  “Whatever,” I muttered, fighting a grin.

  His grin was easy as he lifted his hand from my belly and scooped a strand of hair that had escaped my braids, brushing it back from my face. “Come on, you would’ve had to know if you snored or not. Some guy would’ve told you.”

  “I’ve never actually slept with a guy,” I admitted. “So it could’ve been possible.”

  He lowered his hand, placing it back on my stomach. “So I’m your first.”

  “At something,” I remarked.

  “I’ll take it.”

  I grinned. “I think you need to shoot higher.”

  “Babe, you have no idea how high I’m shooting right now.”

  My breath caught. “Tell me.”

  Our gazes held for a moment and then his lashes lowered, shielding his eyes. A small smile played over his lips as he spread his fingers ac
ross my stomach. I felt his chest move with a deep breath.

  “I want to do something,” he said as his hand inched farther south. “But I don’t think you’re going to let me.”

  I curled my hand against the side of the couch. “Depends on what it is.”

  “Hmm.” His fingers closed around the band of my sweats. “I want to touch you.”

  Oh God.

  My pulse tripped all over itself as he tugged on my bottoms. It felt like my tongue was glued to the roof of my mouth.

  He lowered his head just slightly and I felt his breath dance against my cheek. “I want to feel you come around my fingers.”

  There was a good chance that my heart stopped as I shifted. I felt him then, hard against my thigh.

  “I know things are . . . different right now,” he said, those lips brushing the curve of my cheek as he spoke. “And I thought I didn’t want to complicate things, but I’ve got to be real honest with you, I want to get all up in that complication. I want to get all up in you.” The grip on my sweats loosened. “So are you going to make my morning?”

  My chest rose and fell rapidly. For a brief moment I thought that Nick and I had a habit of doing things ass backward—­sex first, then baby, and now some heavy petting, all before a date? Well, we did have a date last Sunday. Kind of?

  The heat in my veins and the dampening between my thighs told the voice in my head to shut the hell up.

  I was such a slave to my body, but as I turned my head toward his, and felt my nose brush his cheek, I didn’t care. “I’m going to let you make my morning.”

  He stiffened against me and then said, “Thank God.”

  My eyes drifted shut as I turned myself over to his capable hands, and he didn’t make me wait long. He shifted so his forehead was pressing against my temple, and I realized that in that position he could see what he was doing.

  That turned me on even more.

  Nick drew his hand back up to just below my navel, lingered there almost reverently, and then his large hand slid under the band of my sweats. “Holy fuck,” he growled. “Tell me this whole time you’ve had nothing on under these?”

  “Nothing.” Heat turned my blood to lava. “I didn’t expect anyone last night.”

  His fingers slowly ventured south as he used his knee to nudge my legs apart. “So you’re like this when you’re home alone? No panties.”

  “Mostly.” My breath caught as the tips of his fingers brushed the sensitive nub.

  “Damn. I’m not going to ever forget that.”

  I started to respond, but then he cupped me and all thoughts vanished. His fingers trailed lightly between my legs, moving back and forth in a languid manner that curled my toes. My breathing constricted.

  “You’re so soft here. I think it’s the only part of you that is.”

  I wanted to tell him that wasn’t the case. That I was a big fuzzy ball of fluff when it really came down to it, but one finger grew bold, slipping inside me. My hips arched, taking him deeper, and his answering groan sent another flash of heat through me.

  His finger began to move through the wetness, slow and steady, taking his time, and my hips chased the shallow movements. A breathy moan escaped me as he added another finger, gently stretching me. I grabbed at him, curling my fingers around his wrist. Tension built and coiled in the pit of my stomach.

  Nick twisted his hand so that his palm pressed against the bundle of nerves, wringing a gasp out of me.

  “Oh God,” I whispered. Muscles clenched.

  “That’s it.” His voice was thick, needy. “I can feel you.”

  The pace of his fingers picked up, going deeper and faster, and that tension continued to coil until the pressure shattered, whipping darts of pleasure through me. My cries were throaty and my hips came clear off the couch as the release burst into tiny aftershocks.

  Nick stayed with me, knowing exactly when to slow his fingers, and when he eased them out of me, I watched him, utterly spent and dazed, my muscles nothing more than goo as he lifted those fingers to his mouth.

  Holy crap.

  A whole new wave of lust slammed into me as those fingers popped out. “Best breakfast I’ve ever had.”

  Rolling onto my side, I reached for the bulge that had been pressing against my thigh this entire time, but he reached down, catching my wrist. My eyes widened. “You’re going to stop me?”

  His expression tensed. “As much as I’m going to hate myself for this, I’m going to have to.”

  “Why? You had your breakfast. I want mine.”

  Nick’s brows rose.

  “Protein shake,” I said, and my lips twitched.

  A shock of laughter roared out of him. “Holy shit. You went there.”

  “I did.” I tried to reach him again, but his grip tightened.

  He let out a short breath. “What time do you have to go to work?”

  At first I didn’t understand why in the hell he’d bring up that question, but then it struck me. The bliss faded. “Oh my God.” I jerked back and jackknifed into a sitting position. My gaze zeroed in on the clock. “Holy shit! I need to get ready.”

  “Thought you needed your protein shake?”

  I shot him a look as I lurched to my feet and thankfully didn’t tumble over. “That protein shake is going to have to wait.”

  Nick stretched out, throwing his arms above his head as he eyed me from his reclined position. For a moment I couldn’t move as I stared down at him. A very irresponsible part of me wanted to say screw it and literally screw it, but I couldn’t. I backed away.

  “Maybe later?” he offered, eyes hooded.

  I drew in a shallow breath. “Definitely later.”

  Chapter 17

  With Nick working the evenings and me working during the day, there wasn’t a lot of time for us to see one another. I knew I could visit him at the bar, but what was developing between us seemed too new and fragile for me to become his personal barfly.

  But that didn’t mean he was MIA after he left my place Thursday morning.

  He texted that night when he arrived at Mona’s, and checked in on Friday when he got up, which was a lot earlier than I thought for someone who worked until one in the morning. Then again, now that I knew he had his grandfather to watch over, he was probably operating on minimal sleep.

  Saturday night I’d done what was a first for me. I texted Nick before I went to bed. I’d done so giggling like I was sixteen, and his answering text left a smile on my face.

  While you’re sleeping, I’m thinking about breakfast.

  I so knew what he meant.

  For nearly four days I’d been thinking about “breakfast” and when I could get a second helping, and those thoughts intruded at the most inopportune times. Like when Marcus was rattling off a list of things I needed to do or when Deanna from HR joined me for lunch on Friday. While she’d been talking about her daughter’s recent engagement, my thoughts had pranced into uncharted territory. I was wondering what it felt like to go to sleep and wake up in bed with Nick.

  This was something I never really spent a lot of time thinking about.

  Thankfully, the nausea hadn’t gotten any worse as the pregnancy progressed. At six weeks pregnant, it was still there, but I grew used to what I now considered a low-­alert need to vomit. I knew that I was lucky, because some women had horrific morning sickness. From what I gathered the day I’d found out Avery was pregnant, she was one of those pour souls who spent the better part of the afternoon hurling.

  My mom was convinced my pregnancy would be like hers—­relatively easy—­and I hoped that was the case. Maybe if I didn’t miss any time leading up to when I’d need maternity leave, my boss wouldn’t flip a lid as much.

  But that didn’t mean Mom wasn’t worried. When I had chatted with her on Saturday, she tentatively asked if I’d given any
thought to the future and if I was making any plans. The question jarred me. Beyond keeping the baby and working at getting to know Nick better and possibly being with him, I hadn’t made any plans outside of my doctor’s first appointment.

  When Mom realized this, she told me that I had time, but there was no mistaking the underlying thread of worry in her voice, and that anxiety transformed over to me. What was I missing? I made my first appointment. I was taking prenatal vitamins and eating the right foods.

  Well, I was also eating some wrong foods, but the struggle was really with my Cheez-­It Party Mix.

  Obviously, I hadn’t picked up a single drink since I found out, and I’d cut way back on the caffeine intake. But what else could I plan? It was too early to get obsessed with baby clothes or to start picking out baby furniture.

  And the thought of baby furniture led to another major stressor.

  Where in the world would I put a crib and all that jazz? In my walk-­in closet? That sounded like child neglect or something.

  As I drove to meet up with Katie and Roxy on Sunday morning, I came to the shaky realization that I was going to have to move again. I needed a two-­bedroom. Maybe not immediately, but my one-­bedroom wasn’t big enough to have everything the baby would need. I could afford a two-­bedroom, but it would be stretching it. Definitely not comfortably.

  But I wasn’t alone.

  I remembered that as I parked the car, my grip easing on the steering wheel. Even our relationship never progressed beyond the physical, Nick would help me—­help us.

  The panic receded as I briskly walked toward the restaurant, chin down against the chill. Katie and Roxy were in their normal seats, and I joined them, rubbing my hands together to burn away the chill.

  “I was wondering if you got lost.” Katie arched a blond brow.

  I shot her a look. “I’m wondering if you know how cold it is outside.”

  Roxy laughed as she eyed Katie’s getup. The latter was wearing magenta—­not purple, but really magenta—­colored overalls. Underneath them was a sparkly baby blue sports bra.

  “Do they make sports bras with sparkles?” I asked.

 

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