I’m concerned that I look forward to them too much. I’m concerned that I’m feeling more and more attracted to him.
I know it’s too soon and probably not a good idea, but I don’t really know how to stop.
—
“G’NIGHT, DADDY.” LILYreaches up and hugs Zack’s neck.
“Good night, Lily-kins.” He kisses her cheek.
“G’night, Mommy Quinn.”
“Good night, precious girl.” I give her a warm embrace and press my lips to her forehead. She snuggles up to Sugar Bear, and I tuck them both under the covers. “Sleep tight!”
Zack grins at me as we turn out the light and leave the room, closing the door behind us.
“Every time we put her to bed, I want to wake her up and talk to her some more.”
“I know what you mean,” I say, my heart full. “I never knew I could love anyone so much.”
He nods and his gaze locks with mine. A lot more than our eyesseem to be communicating. I put my hand on my stomach as he follows me down the stairs.
“How’s the other little one treating you?”
“Pretty well,” I say. “I still keep the crackers handy, but I’ve noticed a big improvement.”
“Have you tried the fetal Doppler?”
“Not yet,” I say. “The box says ‘as early as twelve weeks,’ but if you read further, it says twenty weeks is the norm. It might still be too early.”
“If you like, we can give it a try,” he says. “I brought batteries.” He motions to the kitchen counter, where he’d placed them after emptying the grocery bag he’d brought.
“Okay. Sure.” I go into the dining room and retrieve the box containing the device. He opens it at the kitchen island, puts in the batteries, and then studies the instructions, his expression serious. I wish his serious face weren’t so seriously sexy. It makes my heart race and my palms sweat.
“It says you need to lie down, then we need to put this gel on your lower stomach.” He holds up a bottle that came in the box. “Then we’ll slide this gizmo around until hopefully we find a heartbeat.”
“It’s a lot like what my obstetrician uses,” I say. Except the transducer on this machine is disconcertingly shaped like a penis, the instructions call it a probe, and the man I have an embarrassing crush on is going to use it on me.
We go into the living room and I lie down on the sofa. My heart jackhammers in my chest as I pull up my T-shirt and adjust my yoga pants to a modest bikini position. Zack kneels beside me and opens the lid on the bottle of gel. The thought of him rubbing it on my naked belly makes me quake.
It evidently gives him pause, as well. “Maybe you should do this.”
I take the bottle, pour some gel in my hand, and smear it on my slightly swollen stomach. He turns on the device, then gently places the probe at my navel.
The jolt of contact makes me jump. I’m hyperaware of howclose he is; I can smell the starch of his shirt and the faint male scent of him. I feel a buzz of electricity that has nothing to do with the batteries in the Doppler and everything to do with him.
He moves the probe against my skin, his face again set in that sexy-serious expression. A loudwop wop wopsounds through the machine. “I think I found it!” he says.
“I think that’s my heart,” I tell him.
“It’s really fast.”
I try to shrug, but the gesture doesn’t really work lying down. “I’m excited to hear the baby’s heartbeat.”
Liar. I’m excited that Zack is so close to me, doing something so intimate.
He checks the instructions, then tries again, once again catching my traitorously fast heartbeat.
“It’s too early,” I say, after he makes a few more excruciatingly sensual passes below my navel. “We should wait a few more weeks.”
