She shook her head.
“Pretzels and peanut butter?”
She shook her head again.
He heaved a dramatic sigh, and demanded, “Tell me, woman! I can’t read minds.”
She grinned, leaned in close enough to feel his warmth to the coldest parts of her, and whispered, “How about we start with a kiss?”
Gideon growled, his eyes darkening as they snapped to hers.
“Oh, I can definitely do that.”
And he did.
Chapter Twenty-One
Four Months Later….
The last burst of winter was melting under an unrelenting spring storm, trapping most New Yorkers indoors where it was dry and warm.
Rain ticked against the high-rise windows like a hurried heartbeat, and the flames in the fireplace threw a pool of amber across the room.
Kendra was tucked under a throw blanket, staring out into the night, her mind on the little person kicking her insides.
Not much longer now before they made their grand entrance, and she couldn’t wait to meet them.
Gideon stood in the doorway, damp hair curling against his temple, the worry he’d been wearing all week still ghosting his features. Kendra stood up, slowly, and crossed the distance without a word, palms finding the warm line of his jaw, and the tension in his shoulders loosening under her touch as if a lock had finally met its key.
“I missed you today,” she said in a hushed voice, not wanting to fully break the spell of the quiet evening.
Gideon’s gaze locked with hers as his hand slid over the burgeoning belly between them. She felt bloated most of the time, ungainly, unbalanced, and she ate too much all the time. Mostly, she felt unattractive; nothing fit, she had stretch marks all over, and her skin was both oily and dry. If a woman could experience all the worst body changes of pregnancy at once, Kendra was doing it.
But Gideon…he never stopped telling her she was beautiful, that she was amazing, that carrying his baby made her the most precious thing to him. He kissed her often, touched her, rubbed her aching back and legs, and he still asked—every night—if she would come back to “their” bed.
To come back “home.”
It had been four months since their break and then reconciliation, and she’d been fighting her baser instincts for just as long. Yes, she wanted to lay beside her husband at night. Yes, she wanted the pleasure and relief of intimacy. But she’d been real with herself…she couldn’t fully return to their marriage without first realizing what it all meant to her.
She’d reached a realization that morning…when she’d stumbled upon the secret photo album Gideon was keeping in his cloud storage.
Picture after picture of her.
Sleeping, cooking, grimacing, laughing, just standing and staring while holding her belly. Every single picture showed common moments she hadn’t even known she was sharing with him. And each picture…the love she felt pouring from every one of the 150 images…it took her breath away.
The man who still had trouble expressing his feelings with words had no trouble showing them by simply capturing things, moments that meant something to him.
It meant everything to her, too.
Finally, it was time.
“Gideon…” she breathed.
“Yeah, baby,” he murmured as he wrapped his strong arms around her.
“I want to come home….”
For a moment, confusion etched his features, but then?—
