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“Well, I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I think I like being boring.”

I smile and brush my lips over her forehead. “Sweetheart, you’re the furthest thing from boring. Trust me.”

She raises her head and smiles at that, then wiggles around to get comfortable again. She ends up winding her leg through mine, with her head on my chest, and her hand splayed across my stomach.

Her round belly presses into my side and I feel the baby give a soft kick.

I smile to myself.

“Goodnight, Thea.”

“Night,” she murmurs, already half asleep.

Thea

28 Weeks Pregnant

Baby is the size of kabocha squash

What the hell was I thinking asking Xander to paint the nursery days before Thanksgiving? Thankfully, we’re celebrating the holiday at his parents’ house and not here, or I’d really lose my mind.

“Let me in!” I yell, banging on the door with an open hand. “I need to make sure the color is what I want.”

“No,” he yells back sternly. “You’re pregnant and you can’t inhale the fumes.”

“Oh, my God, you’re so annoying,” I groan, sliding to the floor. “It took me a month to pick the color and I want to make sure it’s right before you paint the whole room.”

“Can’t you just trust me to know if it’s okay or not?”

“No, you’re a guy. Every shade of pink probably looks like orange to you.”

Xander insisted on painting the nursery himself, instead of hiring professionals. I commend him for wanting to do it himself, but if he fucks it up I’m not talking to him for a week.

No, make that a month.

Heck, maybe even a year.

And let’s face it, the chances of him fucking it up are high since over the pink paint he has to paint a silvery stenciled detail. I highly doubt he can get that right, but here’s to hoping.

Ever since we found out we’re having a girl I’ve been going crazy with plans for the nursery. I knew immediately it had to be girly and pink, because hey, that’s me.

The crib, dresser, armoire, and glider arrived yesterday, so Xander wanted to get the room painted before he started putting things together.

“Xander,” I plead through the door. “One small peek won’t hurt me.”

The door flies open behind me and I fall back. “Shit,” he curses. “I didn’t know you were there.” He helps me up off the floor. “One peek, and then you’re to go downstairs and leave me alone.”

“Fine,” I sigh, reluctant to agree to his terms but knowing it’s the best I’m going to get.

I step through the doorway and nearly slip on the sheet he has laid over the hardwood. “Shit, Thea, be careful,” he warns, grabbing my arm to steady me.

I look around the room, tears in my eyes.

“What do you think?” he asks nervously.

“It’s perfect.”

He hasn’t done much, but it’s enough for me to tell it’s the exact right shade of pink.


Tags: Micalea Smeltzer Light in the Dark Romance