He tried to bite down a laugh, but it was futile. She was so damn cute when she got riled up. “You want me to give you a back rub?”
“Can you rub my calves? They keep cramping up and every time I try to rub them this damn belly gets in the way.”
“Sure.” He slid down the bed, rising to his knees as he gently took her leg between his hands. Her skin was soft and smooth, still clinging on to a light tan. He ran his fingers over her calf, pressing his thumbs down to ease the muscles.
“You’ve got a couple of knots in there,” he told her, circling the pads against the tight muscles.
“I know. Ahhh… Jeez, I think you got it.” She let out a sigh. “Does it get better? Tell me it gets better. I’m sick of every part of my body aching.”
“You need to slow down. This is your body telling you it’s time to take care of yourself. You can’t keep working from seven in the morning until eight at night without rest.” He took her other leg and placed it on his knee, sliding his thumbs along it until he found another knotted muscle.
“You can talk all you want. You work longer hours than me.”
“But I’m not thirty-two weeks pregnant,” he said lightly.
“Why is that?” she asked him, lifting her head from the pillow. “How come guys get all the good stuff?”
It was really hard not to smile at her. “Some people think pregnancy is the good stuff.”
“Yeah. People who aren’t pregnant.” She huffed. “Can you rub my feet now?” she asked him. “I know it’s gross, but every time I stretch them they hurt.”
“Sure, baby.”
She was firmly in the third trimester now, less than two months away from giving birth, and she’d never looked more glorious. Sometimes he came home from work and stared at her as she leaned over her sewing table, watching the way her brows pinched together as she concentrated on a design.
He was becoming addicted to the way she made him feel. Warm and strong and alive. His favorite part of the day was lying behind her as she slept, cupping her abdomen with his hand and feeling their baby kick against it. During those moments – when only he and the baby were awake – he felt like their protector. It was his job to make them safe and comfortable, and he was determined to do it right.
“I can’t slow down, anyway,” she told him as he rolled his thumb along her instep. “I’ve got too much to do. I have a fashion show in a month’s time and a huge order to fill for Carter Leisure. I’ve had to turn down ten Etsy orders this week.”
/> “Maybe you should think about getting some help.”
She sighed. “I’ve thought about it, but I’m not established enough yet. The clothes placed in the boutiques on a sale or return basis, which means I don’t get paid until a customer buys them. I need regular cash flow to employ staff, and I won’t have that for at least six months. And in the meantime, I have rent to pay and a baby to provide for. There’s no way I can slow down until I give birth.”
“You should move in here.” The words came out so casually. Although, they didn’t feel casual. They felt like he was taking a can opener to his heart. But he’d been thinking about it ever since she’d moved into her apartment. Trying to work out a way to ask her.
She lifted herself up on her elbows, her brow furrowed. “What do you mean?”
He ran the tip of his tongue along his bottom lip. “I mean you could give up your apartment and live here with me. I have more space than I know what to do with, and you’re already set up and running in the basement. It would make it easier for both of us if you lived here.”
She stared at him for a moment. “That’s probably the least romantic thing I’ve ever heard.”
Shit. “I didn’t mean it to come out like that. It was just a suggestion.”
She sighed. “Everything that’s happened between us has been backward. We slept together without dating. We got pregnant without being in a relationship. And now you’re talking about me moving in like it’s some kind of business deal.” She pressed her lips together. “I don’t want that. I want the fairytale. The happily-ever-after. I’m not moving in with you because it’s easier on my finances.”
He felt like a statue, frozen to the ground. Desperate to find the right words. “I want to give you that,” he said, his voice cracking. “I do.” His chest throbbed, as though that can opener had stabbed right through it.
“But you can’t.” She finished his words for him. “I get it.” She pulled her foot from his grasp and turned onto her side, pulling her legs up in a fetal position. “I’m going to try and get some sleep. You should do the same.”
James stared at her for a moment, trying to work out how his suggestion had gone so catastrophically wrong. Even before he’d lain back down beside her, her breaths had begun to even out, as she slipped into a deep slumber.
He squeezed his eyes shut and shook his head. Just like always, he was messing everything up. And he had no idea how to make things right.
* * *
“Hey,” James said as he walked across the main hospital vestibule, heading for the reception desk. “You here on official business?”
Lucas glanced down at his standard firefighter’s uniform of utility pants and dark t-shirt emblazoned with ASFD across his chest. “Nah, I just clocked off, but we brought a kid in earlier and I wanted to find out how he was doing.” He shrugged. “According to the doctor his breathing is improving. They’re hoping to get him off the oxygen tomorrow.”