Chapter 41
Tad
Breezy lies back in bed, her hands on her stomach as she caresses the tops and sides and bottom with a thick, creamy lotion she keeps on the nightstand. Her mouth is upturned, despite the chaos of the dinner turned vigilante justice we spent the evening at next door, and I find myself watching her.
Soft hands move across her stomach, a slight crease between her brows forming as she shifts from one side of her hips to the other, just above the top edge of her sexy black lace panties.
Her skin is supple and tight, but I know in the next few months it’ll stretch to untested capacities at an unprecedented rate.
And yet, I know for a fact that she’ll still be sexy—truthfully, she’ll be even more so.
The top of the lotion jar sticks as she tries to screw it on, binding on mismatched threads.
“Here, let me,” I offer. Our hands brush lightly, and I complete the task with ease. The sound of her breathing amplifies.
“I should be grateful, I know I should, but deep down in some hormonal place, all I feel is annoyed.” My smile grows as she continues, though I do my best to hide it to save myself from hidden weapons.
“What is it about growing a human that has to mess with coordination and brain capacity? Like, hello, can’t we contain the symptoms to the uterus? Ugh.”
“I know it’s got to be frustrating…having your body hijacked and all. But this is the role of the man in times like these anyway. To be the doer, the getter, the fixer. You might be operating at sixty percent, but I’ll cover the forty you’re missing as best I can.”
“How?” she asks as I adjust my shoulders and the pillow behind them.
“How what? How will I help?”
“No.” She shakes her head and those blue eyes of hers peer into mine. “How do you manage to say things like that out of the blue?”
“Say things like…”
“Perfect things, Tad. The things I need to hear most. Things that put me at ease.”
Every edge, every wound, every heartache softens. “Breeze.”
“You’ve managed to make me feel comfortable in a skin I never knew I’d wear within a matter of a couple of days, and I…
well, I can’t thank you enough. This could be so much rougher of a transition—going from fling to cohabitation.
But you’ve managed…you’ve managed to turn it into something of a help, rather than a hindrance.
” She shakes her head, sighing. “I guess what I’m trying to say is, it feels nice to be a team. ”
A bolt of discomfort rips into my chest as old words, old wounds, old heartache return with a vengeance. We’re a team, Tad. My wife Abigail made a habit out of saying it, and hearing it now is a stabbing reminder of my failures.
As Breezy lies back, I count my breaths to steady them, setting my old world aside again and searching out the light. The hope, the clarity, the direction—they’re all aimed at the future. At a life to be built with Breezy, and the baby—our baby—she’s growing inside her.
I find purpose in centering myself on them—on focusing on what will be instead of what was.
I know it’s still too early to feel the baby kick or anything, but I remember…
“Would it be okay if I…well, if I talked to the baby?” I ask, and Breezy’s gaze jumps to mine. “I know it can be a little weird at first, and I’d like to put my hand on your belly too, so I just thought I’d check if—”
“Of course you can.”
I smile, scooting closer and leaning toward her stomach before settling a shaking hand on the side. Her body jumps a little, but her breathing is even and comfortable as I rub gently.
“Hi, there, little one. I’m…well, I’m your dad.
We haven’t met formally yet, but we will soon, and I just wanted to introduce myself and tell you a little bit about me.
” I shift even closer, lowering my voice.
“I’ll love you through it all, even when it seems like I won’t.
I’ll always be a listening ear and someone you can turn to.
And I’ll always, always do my best to protect you and your mom. ”
Saliva thickens, actively working to plug my throat, but tonight’s events are a tunnel to life-sustaining air.
“Especially from nosy newspaper ladies who like to hide in the bushes.”
Breezy’s laugh is melodic. “Oh my God, I still can’t believe tonight was anything but a fever dream. The tundra dinner, Josie grabbing Eileen by the collar, Lillian flirting with Randy.” She snorts. “I thought your brother was going to choke on his tongue.”
“He’s not as celibate as he seems,” I defend, escalating Breezy’s enjoyment exponentially.
“Oh, don’t worry. Lillian’s lore for rendering men speechless precedes her everywhere she goes. Last year, when Norah and I did a girls’ weekend at a spa in New York with her, I heard some stories that, if told right now, would give all three of us nightmares.”
“Hear that, sweetheart?” I say, talking directly to Breezy’s stomach again, my hand rubbing gently. “Your mom is already protecting you too.”
I glance up just in time to catch Breezy’s breath as it leaves in a silent gasp. Her hand cups my face, the warmth of her palm radiating gratifyingly into my cheek.
“Thank you. Thank you for making what could have been awkward and scary and uncertain feel secure.”
“We’re a team,” I find myself saying aloud before stretching tall, leaning forward, and putting my lips to hers. Unshed, salty tears flavor the back of my throat, the words a bleeding, fatal wound.
But the knowledge that comes with them—the experience in how amazing life can be—and Breezy’s earnest need for my partnership might be the only things that can save me.
And even if they can’t, I make the promise to myself and to her and to the ghosts of my life past and to the universe that I’ll do nothing less than die trying.
The kiss deepens, and just like that, everything else is gone. At least, for a little while, it’s just the two of us.