12. Kylee
twelve
Kylee
Epilogue
The living room looks like a crime scene for Swedish furniture.
Cardboard boxes are ripped open across the rug, a dozen silver screws are rolling hazardously close to the baseboards, and the instruction manual is entirely useless.
It’s printed completely in a language neither of us can read, leaving Casper to squint aggressively at a series of black-and-white diagrams with a determination I know only he can carry.
I'd complain about the accident if it weren't the funniest thing to watch him stubbornly continue without help.
He’s sitting cross-legged on the floor, the heavy leather of his VP jacket discarded on the couch, leaving him in just a tight black t-shirt. While trying to handle the delicate wooden slats of the crib, he unknowingly looks as sexy as a future father can.
"Casper," I say, lifting off the doorframe I'd been stationed at for the last few minutes. With my hands cradling the heavy, warm swell of my stomach, I smile at him innocently. "Are you sure about this? Is it actually going to be safe for the baby?"
As much as I'd love to put my faith in my husband's constructive abilities, I've already heard my fill of colorful curses of frustration leave his lips.
He doesn't look up at my question; his attention is too busy trying to align two pre-drilled holes that won't meet.
"Sweetheart, when I'm done with this thing, it's going to be the safest, sturdiest thing in this entire building. I’ll weld the joints myself if I have to."
Right on cue, he tries to shove a small wooden dowel into a slot. His thumb slips, missing the peg entirely, and the wood clatters against the floor.
His usual gleeful expression is nowhere to be seen. He's too busy worrying about doing this whole fatherhood thing right.
Amused, I slowly make my way over to him. It’s getting harder to move around gracefully these days, but I manage to sink down onto my knees right behind his back.
Leaning into him, the heat radiating off his skin instantly warms me. Wrapping my arms around his neck, I rest my chin on his shoulder and reach my hands down over his, covering his calloused fingers with my own.
I pick up the wooden peg, guiding his hand to the correct angle.
"Here," I murmur, my voice dropping into a soft purr as I slide it effortlessly into the slot. "You just have to find the right angle and slide it straight in."
Casper back vibrates with a noncommittal grunt, but he doesn't complain about my assistance. Rather, his pinkies lift to hook mine, keeping them where they are.
I press a soft, teasing kiss to the side of his neck, right over a patch of flushed skin. Even after all these years, he still grows pink at my attention.
"I thought you were pretty good at this, the last I recall," I whisper, my lips brushing his skin as I flirt. "Or do you need a little reminder on how it's done?"
Casper doesn't reply at first, but he doesn't have to. The wood in his hands tumbles to the ground. He turns his head to look at me, those pale blue eyes searching. "Wait, right now?"
Ever since the doctor explicitly told him that sex was completely safe during the second trimester, Casper has been absolutely ravenous. Despite the green light, he might not try to jump me at every hour of the day anymore, but when I'm the one to suggest it?
I have to stifle a laugh. "You've been working pretty hard. I think you deserve a little break."
A grin immediately breaks out across that handsome face of his. He lets out a loud, dramatic sigh that practically blows the useless instruction manual across the rug.
"God, yes," he groans, throwing his hands in the air. "A break is a brilliant idea. A magnificent idea. Only my beautiful wife can think of such a fantastic idea."
He carefully turns, aiming to face me. Once he can reach out, his hands catch me by the waist and carefully tug me to his lap. He’s incredibly mindful of the bump, shifting his weight so I’m perfectly cushioned against his chest, but his hold is tight.
"Where are we going to take this glorious break?" Nuzzling my neck, he kisses my skin twice. "We should take it to the bedroom. It's dark and quiet."
"I don't know..." Arching against him, I wiggle so I'm straddling him. Of course, I find him already hard and waiting. "I think right here is okay."
He curses against my pulse and strokes my sides. "You already know I've never been able to tell you no."
"Good," I murmur, leaning down to capture his lips before he can change his mind.
The kiss is warm and breathless, tasting of the sweet tea we shared earlier during his last break and carrying all the happy, fierce devotion he always wraps me in.
His stubble scratches lightly against my jaw as he pulls back just enough to press a quick barrage of loud, goofy kisses along my cheek and down to my neck, purposely touching my most sensitive spots until I’m squirming on his lap.
Will just once be enough? At this rate, I may be the reason he doesn't finish this tonight.
"We've got all night," he murmurs as if he can hear my thoughts. By now, he may as well be able to. He lets out a soft, defeated chuckle against my skin, his hold tightening as he completely surrenders to the break.
Smiling alongside him, I return his peppered kisses with some of my own. "Then let's take our time."
Not needing to say anymore, those few words are all it takes to make this man pounce.