“Hmmm…” he hummed against me. “I think girl. You?”
I laughed under my breath. “No idea. No mother’s intuition at all. It could be an otter or bear for all I know.”
“But do you think it’s a girl bear or boy bear?”
I laughed louder this time. “I really don’t know. A girl would be fun, but a boy would be equally fun.”
“Yeah, don’t think I’d mind a boy either.” His palm was so warm on my belly button. “What if they want to be a rocker?”
“Then I hope it’s a girl. There aren’t enough female rock stars.”
“I don’t know, Mic. This kid’s got music in its blood. You might not be able to stop the inevitable.”
I swatted his shoulder. “Stop trying to scare me with your evil, evil talk.”
He rose up on his elbow again, a smile lighting his face. “Am I so fucking terrible, you’d hate for our kid to turn out like me?”
“No, you’re not so terrible.” My voice came out soft, affection clogging my throat. “You’re sort of, kind of, a little bit great.”
“Just a little bit?” He was clearly amused by my assessment.
“A smidge.”
“You like me, huh?”
“Let’s not take this too far.” The alarm on my phone beeped, making me groan. “Back to reality.”
We showered and dressed, and Mo watched me shove all my stuff back in my overnight bag from the corner of our bed, his fingers steepled. I tried not to notice the kicked puppy expression on his face, but it was impossible to ignore. If he’d been trying to guilt me for leaving, I would have flipped him off on my way out the door. But he wasn’t. He was just the kind of guy who wore his feelings on his face and made no effort to hide them.
Which made me like him more. And made me want to trust him.
Bag zipped, I went over to Mo and brought one knee, then the other, up on the bed so I straddled him. He gripped my hips and brought me close, his head tilted back.
I held his face and pressed a long, slow kiss to his lips. “Thank you for flying to Miami for me, Moses.”
“Tell me where you want me, I’ll show up.”
“I sort of believe that.”
“Guess I’ve got some work to do to get you to all the way believe it.” He started to pull me down for another kiss, but my phone blared to life. Me singing “Devon is an asshole” filled the room, and pretty much killed any moment we may or may not have been about to have.
“I have to go,” I said.
“Yep.” He pushed my shirt up and dipped his head low. “Can’t wait to see you again next week, you little mango. Tell your mom she likes me more than she thinks, okay?” One more kiss to my bump, then he helped me off his lap, standing with me.
“The baby’s a mango this week?” I asked.
“Yep. Next week’s a banana. Not sure how a banana’s bigger than a mango, though.”
I grinned. “One of the world’s mysteries. We’ll probably never know the answer.”
Grinning back at me, Mo closed in on my space, reaching around to squeeze my ass. “I’m gonna miss the hell out of you. My dick is going to get worn out while I picture fucking you by the pool.”
Circling my arms around his waist, I laid my head on his chest. “No more sad dick?”
He rumbled a laugh. “Not at the moment.”
And that was that. We kissed a few more times, Mo rubbed my little Buddha belly, then I wheeled my bag to the door and we said goodbye. Not even twenty-four hours, and something had shifted between us. I still had no idea what that would mean when I got back. I couldn’t really picture us as husband and wife, even if we technically were.