He manages to open the passenger side of his new truck, this one complete with seat warmers and four doors to accommodate our growing family. He slides me inside, reaches over me to fasten my seat belt, and pulls back, his dark gaze boring into mine. “We’re gonna share this one.”
To anyone else, those five simple words probably seem meaningless, but they warm and cramp my heart all at the same time. Ever since I became pregnant, neither one of them have managed to stay away for long. Gage is more protective than ever; the tiniest thing, like me carrying in groceries or pulling out a stepladder, triggers the change. They flip back and forth daily, whereas before the baby I’d only see Gage about once a week. As hard as I know this is on Lucas, having Gage take over when Lucas would rather stay close, I love spending time with both of them. Each one has managed to offer a kind of beauty I never knew existed. Lucas’s tender, artistic, gentle side is what I crave. He’s the one I want to curl up to watch movies with and fall into the safety of every night. When we’re together, he loves with a passion that has brought me to tears, with a dependence that aches so deep it’s almost painful. Gage is our guardian. He’s fierce, loyal, brave, and demanding. When we make love, it’s without boundaries, without shame or record of the past. It’s free and rough and so intense it shakes the very foundation of my soul.
I cup his jaw and drop a gentle kiss to his lips. “Whatever you need.”
He blinks, and his eyes dart to the side before he focuses back on me. “He’s worried this is too much for you.”
“Never. But honestly, Gage, if you don’t get me home and in our bed—hell, at this point I’d settle for this truck, anyplace warm will do—I’m going to explode.”
His eyes flare and the corner of his mouth lifts. “Done.”
GAGE
My wife.
My fucking wife!
Will it ever sink in?
Staring at her now, her black hair fanned out around her face, those lips that’ve brought me more pleasure than should be legal for any man to enjoy, relaxed and slightly tipped up on the ends. Her naked body sprawled out before me, swollen in the middle with the baby our love brought to life growing strong inside her. There’s not a single inch of her that I don’t love, that I wouldn’t worship. That I wouldn’t die to protect.
And she’s mine.
“Stop staring and come hold me.”
Her words call me to action. I crawl my naked body over hers until my chest is seated between her thighs, my arms braced on either side of her belly.
I run my lips from one hip bone to the other, taking the time to nip around her belly button and leave a trail of wet kisses in my wake. “You feelin’ okay?”
“Mmm . . .” Her hips roll against my chest and I bite my lip against an animalistic growl. “Feels really good.”
I grin against her skin. “Not what I asked, baby.”
“I’m fine, I feel fine, we’re all fine, I promise. If anything were wrong, you’d be the first to know.”
“He’s getting so big.” I palm her belly like a small basketball. “He’s not hurting you, is he?”
She pushes up on her elbows and forks her fingers through my hair. “No, he’s not hurting me.”
I try to relax, but ever since I found out about the baby, I’ve been a nervous fucking nightmare. Congratulations, you’re pregnant. Here’s an injection of psychopath with a dose of homicidal tendencies. I can’t believe she hasn’t told me to fuck off and banished me from her life yet. I’ve become the world’s most obnoxious helicopter husband. The worst part is, I don’t know how to stop. I’ve wanted to rip people’s arms off for touching her belly, caught myself growling at the ultrasound appointment, twice. Considered very strongly gutting her doc during a very routine exam.
It’s Luke who’s saved me. I’ve tapped in to the calm he feels every time he’s around Shy. I’ve managed to harness the tingling warmth that envelops his chest when they’re together. I’ve paid attention to the way he talks to her, the soothing tenor of his voice when she’s freaking out about something like dust mites in the baby’s clothes. He’s great with her, so much better for her than I am right now, and yet she looks at me, like the way she is now, as if I could do no wrong. Like the earth ends and begins with me.
“Have you decided on a name yet?” Her fingers continue to rake across my scalp.
I push up the last foot and a half to drop down to her side, throwing my thigh over hers to keep contact. It looks possessive, but it’s really a weakness. I need to touch her. “I’m leaving it up to Luke. After all, I owe everything to him. I’d never be here, with you, like this, if it weren’t for him.”
Her eyes fill with tears. “Don’t do that! You know I always cry when you get sweet.”
I kiss away a single tear that slides down her cheek. “You cry when Buddy’s sweet. And he’s a dog. He’s not capable of anything else.”
She sighs, and another tear falls. “Aww, Buddy . . .” Her face screws up and a sob rips from her. “He’s such a good dog.”