7. Jasper
Chapter 7
Jasper
I continue massaging Thea’s feet until she’s snoring lightly. Today has been a hell of a rollercoaster. From getting the apartment to learning Thea was pregnant, I’ve never been so happy. I’m getting the life I never dared dream I could have. Now, I have to make sure it doesn’t slip through my fingers.
When I’m certain that Thea is sleeping deeply, I scoop her into my arms and carry her to my bed, where she belongs. I study her sleeping figure. Fuck me, I love those tight, starched clothes she wears. But they can’t be all that comfortable to sleep in.
As gently as I can, I peel the snug skirt down her thick hips and thighs. Her shirt is next followed by her bra. I glance down only once, feeling my cock surge immediately. She’s too damn beautiful.
I select the softest, warmest flannel shirt from the closet and wrap it around her curvy body. Then I carefully button each button and slip a pair of my thick wool socks onto her feet, so she won’t catch a chill.
Contentment washes over me when I pull the blankets over her curves. Pretty soon she’s going to be rounder, her body showing the world the evidence of all the love I’ve given her.
The wind begins howling outside as the first flurries of snow start to fall. I smile to myself and cross to the window to watch the snowstorm starting. It’s as if nature herself is determined to help me out with my plan to keep Thea here.
It’s why I insisted she stay for pie. I knew if I could get her to hang around long enough that the roads would get too bad for her to leave.
It was a sneaky move. But she was planning on giving me the best news of my life then hightailing it out of here like a scared baby deer. No, I couldn’t let that happen. She has to stay so we can talk this through, so she can know that I’m in this for the long haul.
I check through the cabin, making sure everything is prepped for the snowstorm of the century that’s expected to hit this weekend. When I’m certain my generator is in good condition, I finally crawl into bed behind Thea.
Pressing a soft kiss to her neck, my body relaxes. This is the perfect end to the day, with sweet Thea in my arms. I have to find a way to convince her to marry me. She knows we’re soulmates. I saw the flicker of longing in her expression when I told her that. I have to be patient now.
Turning on my phone, I start searching for how to be a good husband and father. I’ve never had a family of my own. I was older by the time Emma May fostered me and her husband had been long gone.
This is too important to mess up. I need to know what sets good fathers and husbands apart from bad ones. Because I plan to do right by my soon-to-be wife and kids. They’ll always have someone in their corner, a man who loves and supports them. I’ll be their loudest cheerleader and their biggest champion. They’ll always know how proud I am of them.
One article mentions celebrations and holidays and how important it is for men to be present for those. I think about Valentine’s Day. I’ve never cared much about the day myself. But it’s the perfect opportunity to show Thea how we could build a life together. If I’m really lucky, she’ll see how crazy I am for her, and she’ll agree to marry me soon.
I continue reading all night long as the howling wind grows louder. Finally, about dawn, I crawl from bed and call Ma. All of this reading about family stuff has given me a new appreciation for what she did for me and so many other foster kids.
She answers cheerfully on the first ring. She’s probably been up for hours already, puttering around her house. Later, if there’s still electricity, she’ll go down and open up her grocery store.
“How are you holding up in this weather?” I ask quietly, glancing out my bedroom windows. I’m pleased to see the high snow drifts and the snow flurries that are still floating in the air. The wall of white is buying me precious time with my girl.
“Same old achy knees,” she says, and I hear the clink of a spoon against ceramic. I can picture her sitting down at the faded kitchen table with her little teacup while her newest adopted cat purrs happily at her feet. “Now, tell an old lady what you want for your birthday.”
“You know me. I don’t want anything,” I answer easily. Having a Valentine’s Day birthday is kind of nice. Most people forget about it and leave me alone. Not Ma though. She’s never once forgotten mine. Not since she met me all those years ago when I was a scared kid alone in the hospital.
She sighs in exasperation, the way she does every year. “You have to want something.”
I turn from the windows to look at my girl, safe and warm in my bed. I swear I can see that pregnancy glow they talk about online. She looks ethereal, like an angel who had the misfortune to get tangled up with a lumberjack. “I already got my gift.”
“Oh,” she makes a pleased hum. “The little app thingy on the phone said that the kitchen torch wouldn’t be there for two more days. That one is the latest model. The reviews said it was perfect for caramelizing sugar or charring a steak.”
I brush a lock of blonde hair from Thea’s face, feeling the same surge of tenderness that I did the moment I met her. “The gift was more than I could ever ask for.”
When I end the call, I can’t help thinking about my own kid. One day, I’ll talk to him or her on the phone. Maybe I’ll give her advice about investing in index funds or fuss at him about which backroads to take to avoid the speed traps. It hits me then that I’ve talked about my baby, but I haven’t actually talked to him or her yet.
Kneeling down by Thea’s side of the bed, I pop open the last couple of buttons on her shirt. I put my hand on her round stomach, envisioning our tiny baby safe and cocooned inside of Thea’s beautiful body. “Hi, it’s Dad. You haven’t met me yet, but I want you to know I’m going to take care of you your whole life. Anything you need, you can always come to me. Promise.”