She must see the disappointment on my face, and puts one of her hands on top of one of mine. “It’s okay, I’m sure you will soon. She’s still so tiny.”
I look up. “Give me a fruit or vegetable reference.”
She laughs. “Maybe an artichoke?”
I cock my head. “Babe, I’ve never eaten or seen an artichoke in my fucking life.”
She sighs heavily.
“Wait… have I?”
“You used to love my spinach and artichoke dip.”
I pull my hand out from under hers then bring her fingers to my mouth to kiss them. “I’d love to taste it. Will you make it for me?”
She nods, happy once again that I’m open to some things from the past. Which reminds me… “Ava? Did we ever have cybersex?”
Her eyebrows shoot up. Then she bites that sexy goddamn lower lip. “No… but…”
I can’t believe all it takes is a look from her to get my dick dancing. I trap her against the couch with my arms. “Oh, we’re going to. I don’t know when, how, why, or where, but it’s happening.”
I swear her pupils dilate. Then she swallows and says, “Sweet potato.”
“Sweet potato?”
“Surely you remember those.”
I chuckle, realizing we’re talking about the baby again. “Of course, but they come in all kinds of sizes.”
“You’re the one who wanted the food reference.” She runs a hand across her belly. “She’s about five and a half inches now.”
I hold out my hand, palm up, fingers outstretched. “She could fit in the palm of my hand. I know I’m a doctor and all, but it’s still amazing that you have this perfectly formed little human inside you, and all she needs to do is grow larger.”
“I know. I can’t wait to see her again in two more weeks.”
Still on a high from knowing the baby is kicking and seeing Ava so happy about it, I say, “You know what I can’t wait for?”
She cocks her head in question then squeals when I scoop her into my arms and carry her back to our bedroom, laughing and kissing me the entire way, telling me how much she loves my caveman side.
Yeah—I definitely think I could love her.
Chapter Forty-Two
Ava
Even after six weeks and several ultrasounds, every time Trevor passes the refrigerator, he looks at the black and white pictures. The entire upper portion is covered, displaying photos of all four scans.
Twenty weeks. We’re halfway there.
He comes around behind me, wrapping his arms around my middle, running a palm over my belly. That’s another thing he does a lot. He can’t walk through the room I’m in without touching me. Some might call it annoying, but not me.
Because I know it could have gone the other way. He could have stayed only out of obligation. Responsibility. Coercion. Or he could have left in search of a new life. In search of himself.
But he didn’t.
He’s here. Here with his arms wrapped around me like he can never get enough of me. With hands cupping the baby he genuinely wants. So yeah, I’ll take it exactly as it is.
“You’re goddamn sexy in that short nightie,” he whispers.
