14. Ten perfect steps
Chapter 14
Ten perfect steps
LETTIE
D enial.
It’s one of my favorite places to be. A magical rainbow land filled with unicorns and fuzzy pink rabbits. Pixies fly freely, raining gummy bears from above. Mermaids swim in the nearby sea, jumping out of the water like dolphins. The clouds are white and fluffy, it’s always sunny, and the temperature is sheer perfection. Garden gnomes come to life and throw parties with big feasts filled with the most delicious foods and all the sweet tea I can drink. No one is sad. No one cries, yells, or has a duck fit.
It’s paradise.
And regrettably, I need to leave this mystical land. Reality calls.
No. Strike that.
Reality howls , screeches, and bellows at me from the other side of the tranquil sea. When I try to ignore it, reality throws a lasso around me and drags me kicking and screaming.
Reality is a dickhead.
Unfortunately, Tomer wants to talk before we get ready for bed. He said it’s important, and he’s been waiting to bring it up for several days.
I’m not claiming to be a psychic, but I can easily predict what he wants to talk to me about. It’s something I’ve been dutifully ignoring all week. Happy to live in denial. Who could blame me? It’s so fantastic there. Did I mention the purple monkeys who sing in a barber shop quartet?
Once we’re settled in our favorite position on the couch, with me straddling him and his hands on my waist, he gives me the sweetest kiss.
Seizing the opportunity to avoid the dreaded talk, I attempt to get him swept up in my body.
But he stops me. Thrice.
The determined butt face.
“Fine. We can talk.” With an annoyed huff, I collapse onto his chest. Immediately, I jerk backward when pain stabs into my entire upper body. “ Oof . That hurt.”
“What hurt, sugar? Your ribs?”
“No. They’re fine.” I cover my breasts with my forearms like I’m giving them a hug. “My boobs hurt.”
His face hardens into the same expression he had when he told me we had to talk . Same look he’s worn each time I’ve mentioned feeling queasy. Damn big mouth of mine, flapping everything that’s happening in my head without censoring my words. Now, I have no choice but to face reality.
Ew .
“Do you want some ice for them?” he asks, the adorable dolt.
Unable to restrain myself, I bust out in a big guffaw. “ Lawd , no. I ain’t gonna ice my boobs. They’re just tender. It’s probably time for my period.” Said the denying denier from denial land.
He grimaces, but I try one last time to throw him off the trail. “I bet my period is late because of stress. That’s happened before.”
Yes, I realize tender boobs and nausea are symptoms of pregnancy. I’m not an idiot. Plus, I did a web search the only other time I left denial this week. The results didn’t suit me, so I climbed onto my unicorn and flew back into the clouds.
Now I’m staring into the hypnotic turquoise eyes of the man yanking me down to earth.
I can’t be mad at him for it. He’s doing the responsible thing by facing it. Whereas I’m doing the Lettie thing. If you’re unclear what my thing is, see above.
“Lettie, this is hard to talk about, and I have no idea how you’re going to react.” The steadiness of his voice keeps me grounded. “No matter what happens, don’t forget I’m here for you. Always. Okay?”
I run my palms over his chest and shoulders. “I know, babe.”
“Right. So here it goes.” His shoulders radiate tension, and he speaks with a determined slowness. “Remember before the...” A short pause as he bites his words and rephrases. “Remember when we watched the recording from our anniversary and had that little no-condom accident?”
“I had forgotten about it for a while, all things considered. But yes, I remember.”
“Lately, I’ve noticed you’ve been nauseous quite often. And now the tender breasts. It feels like it’s been more than a month since your period.”
My eyes snap shut, and my jaw clicks. “I know, babe. I know . I’ve been suspecting it too. The nausea is relentless. I asked around at Redleg, and no one has been sick. Except Sue, but she’s pregnant.”
His eyes double in size, and a tiny gasp gets stuck in his throat.
My eyes freeze in the shocked position. “Oops. Pretend you didn’t hear that from me. I wasn’t supposed to say anything.”
A salacious grin replaces his previously concerned facade. “How do you know?”
“She was crying in the bathroom the other day about peanut butter. It was a whole thing. But yeah, she admitted it because she’s a far worse liar than me.”
“ Wow . Madeline is about to become a grandmother three times over. Sammy’s having twins, and now Sue’s pregnant.” He shakes his head, dispelling his thoughts.
“Anyway. Let’s focus on you.” He glances down my front, eyes lingering on my mid-section. “Rather than guessing, would you like to take a test? Or do you want to wait a few more days to see if your period comes?”
More gingerly than the last time I attempted this move, I collapse against his chest, taking care to avoid squishing my aching chest pillows. “ Pfft . You decide for me. What do you want me to do?”
“Lettie, this is your decision. What I want doesn’t matter.”
My head pops off his chest. “The hell it doesn’t. Everything about you matters to me, especially your thoughts on this situation. I’m telling you that I can’t think straight about it. I’m terrified like a chicken shit and oddly excited at the prospect, which is baffling, especially considering how far off the handle I flew the night it happened. I’m seriously unable to decide. If it were up to me, I’d live in a permanent state of decision paralysis over this. I’d rather sandpaper a tiger’s ass in a locked coffin than make this decision.”
“Sugar—”
“Tomer, please . I need you to tell me what to do here. I’ll be... compliant .” I fake gagging, drawing a chuckle out of him. “Be my Dom right now and tell me what to do. Please. That’s what I need from you.”
For a long time, he stares into my eyes like he’s searching for something. And I let myself search his, although I’m unsure what I’m looking for.
Until I see it.
A tiny glint of joy twinkling behind his irises as if his spirit is becoming buoyant.
I don’t care what it is about this situation that’s making him happy. It could be how I’m submitting to him so completely or how I’m communicating my needs in certain terms. Or it could be the idea of me being pregnant.
Maybe it’s all of those things.
Finally, he complies with my request to make the freaking decision for us.
“I’d like you to take a test. If you’re pregnant, it’s essential we get you to a doctor and monitor your health. Vitamins. Food. That sort of thing. Plus, I imagine it’ll be quite an emotional shock, so you don’t have to worry about the logistics. Unless you want to. I’ll research it and guide you while you come to terms with your feelings.” He tugs gently at the padlock charm on my collar. “It’s my job to take care of you. And I will. I promise.”
Damn . That’s so freaking sweet.
My lips fold inward as my head nods of its own accord. “Okay. Should we go to the store to get a test now?”
He winks at me, adorable and cocky at the same time. “I bought one yesterday.”
“Of course you did.” Because he has his life together instead of mentally checking out to sing with the monkeys every chance he gets.
Unable to hold it in, I express how much he means to me in times like these. “Babe, you’re unbelievably perfect for me in every way. The sanity to my insanity. The responsibility to my irresponsibility. And the logic to my chaos.” I get lost in the depths of his eyes for a second before adding, “I couldn’t love you more.”
Fun Lettie fact: My aim is surprisingly good. Didn’t expect to come anywhere close to being able to predict where my stream of pee would go. Nailed it on the first try.
And yes , this is what my squirrel brain is fixating on since I can’t escape to unicorn land while waiting for the results.
I set the capped test stick on a tissue and rest it on the top of the toilet tank. After washing my hands, I exit the bathroom and join Tomer on the edge of the bed.
Tugging in a huge swell of air, I release the longest and most emphatic exhale ever. “And now we wait.”
For what will surely be the most excruciating three minutes of my entire life.
Inherently knowing I need comfort, he surrounds me with one arm, tucking me close to his side. The kiss he presses to my temple sends a soothing pulse of love through my body.
I wrap my arms around his waist and fill my lungs with his scent.
“Sugar bear, can I ask if you’ve run through mental scenarios based on the outcome like I have? Or would you prefer silence? Or a non-related distraction?”
I quirk my head to glimpse his face without breaking my hold on him or removing my cheek from the solace of his chest. The damn glee on his features is like a love cannon blast to my soul.
Curiosity will surely kill me before we get the test results. “Tell me your scenarios. I’ve been steadfastly focused on denying I’m even alive, let alone possibly knocked up.”
“I never thought I’d have a child or children. Never thought I’d fall in love or know happiness like I’ve known with you. Hell, I never let myself even wish for those things. What good could come from hoping for something I thought was an impossibility?”
Oh, my sweet man.
His sexy neck grows taught with a quick swallow. “Ever since I fell for you, I’ve had more wishes, hopes, and dreams than one man should be allowed to have. And watching you become a mother would be the single greatest pleasure of my life.”
Despite how cherished his beautiful words make me feel, my mouth does that thing it’s known for—spewing unfiltered bratty thoughts. “It’s like you wrote the book on the perfect shit to say to an overly emotional woman in a time of crisis.”
“Didn’t write it. Didn’t read it. If that book exists, I’d peruse it, though.” His chest vibrates against my cheek with a soft chuckle. “You’ve helped me tap into my feelings—things I thought I never had. So when the opportunity arises, I speak from the heart.”
“Don’t ever change.” I kiss his chest through his shirt, silly as that may be. “Not to be the semantics police, but you told me your reaction and not the scenario. I thought you’d have plans, not just feelings about this.”
“Fair point, Ms. Holt.” His warm palm rubs the bare flesh of my shoulder and upper arm. “Scenarios. Plans. Let’s see. I have ten steps. First, proper medical care. Second, monitor your mental health and ensure you get the support you need. Be there for you in every way I can. Third, buy the ring.”
My jaw falls progressively lower until it rests on my upper chest.
“Fourth, sex without condoms. Fifth, stand by you when we tell Big Al, your mother, and your friends. Or I can tell them for you if you prefer. Sixth, we decide if we’ll live here or if you want to buy a new house together. Seventh, once you decide which room should be the nursery, we pick out everything the baby might need. Eighth, watch you light up with joy and beam brighter than the sun as your body creates life. Ninth, eagerly await the arrival of the most beautiful baby to ever live. And tenth, love you both until the end of time.”
Done with his ten-point plan, he finally notices my dumbfounded expression. His face shines with unfettered happiness. My heart and ovaries explode. If I’m not already pregnant, I will be soon.
“I want all that too,” I admit, my reaction bursting out genuine and unfiltered.
He grips my chin between his thumb and forefinger, tilting my face upward. His lips slant over mine, embracing my mouth in the most tender and heartfelt kiss of my life. My breath quivers in my chest, and tears fill my eyes.
Joyful ones.
Fearless ones.
When he pulls back, he rubs the tip of his nose on mine. “I’ll be right back.”
Where is he going? I was two point six seconds away from jumping his bones.
I track his steps, heading to the bathroom.
Duh, Lettie.
What did I think? That he was running out for cigarettes?
My heels bob, and a fluttering sensation fills my chest and stomach. When he steps out of the bathroom, I bolt upright and eat up the space between us.
His face is blank. Stone-cold unreadable. A look he’s perfected over the course of his life.
My legs threaten to buckle, wobbling like a newborn deer. “Well?”
At an almost torturous pace, he sinks to the floor, lowering inch by inch to his knees in front of me. My eyes bulge as I stand paralyzed. Even my breathing ceases.
With loving hands, he gingerly grips my waist and tugs me forward, aligning his face with my midsection. He stares straight ahead as if he’s looking through the pink fabric of my flowery sundress and the flesh beneath it.
He exhales a shaky breath and kisses my belly.
My world tilts on its axis. Time stops.
Closing his eyes, he rests his cheek against the spot where life is growing.
Inside me.
When he finally looks up my body, his eyes are hazy with tears, and his expression is painted in wonder.
It’s pure and honest.
Tears stream down my cheeks, falling to my chest as his calming presence douses me in comfort.
Without words, he convinces me of so much.
This is such a blessing.
You’re not alone.
I’ll be here for you every step of the way.
We’re going to shower this baby with love.
In a reverent whisper, he says, “Congratulations. You’re going to be a mother, Lettie.”
A sob springs loose from the back of my throat. A happy one.
He kisses my stomach again, pulsing his hands around my hips. “Are you okay, sugar bear?”
Nodding emphatically, I answer in earnest, my voice thick with emotions. “Yes, babe. I’m perfect.”
He rises swiftly, encircling me in his tender embrace. “I love you, my sweet sugar bear. I’m so damn happy.”
Surprisingly enough, I am too.