“Uh . . .” I toe the ground. “Angry about the shoe?”
“You think I’m going to choke a pregnant woman over a shoe?”
“I don’t know!” I toss my arms up in the air. “Who knows the kind of anger levels you might have. I’m still getting to know you, and honestly, from what I’ve seen on the ice, you have a temper. How do I know it doesn’t carry into the household? These are things we need to learn about each other, Eli.”
He pinches his brow, clearly still suffering in pain. “Penny, for your future reference, please know, I’ll never . . . ever try to choke you or physically harm you in any way. Got it?”
I tap the side of my head. “Yes. Logging that nugget in. Good to know.”
“Jesus.” He takes the next minute to stand to his feet, moving entirely too slow if you ask me. Does it really hurt that bad? Or are men just weak? After another deep breath, he looks me in the eyes, and the anger has disappeared as he says, “Penny, you threw up in my shoe. Are you okay?”
“It’s just a shoe, Eli. It’s not like I threw up on your dog . . . wait . . .” I tilt my head to the side and say, “Did you ask if I was okay?”
“Yes.” He lessens the space between us despite the evident pain he’s still in. “You threw up, and you haven’t done that yet. I want to make sure you’re okay.”
He’s not concerned about his shoe?
He doesn’t think I just tainted his bad luck?
He doesn’t want to choke me?
He actually cares about me more than his shoe?
That’s . . . well . . . that’s just the nicest thing.
Tears well up in my eyes and cascade down my cheeks in seconds. “I’m more important than your shoe,” I say.
“Hell, of course you are, Penny.” He lets out a frustrated breath. “Why would I think my shoe is more important than you?”
“It’s your special shoe that you like to wear when we play the Freeze, and I took that away from you. And not only did I take it away but I also did inconceivable things inside said shoe.”
“It’s just a shoe.” He reaches up and swipes away my tears with his thumbs. “I’m more concerned with how you’re feeling.”
Of course he is, because not only is he beyond gorgeous, but he’s considerate as well.
Great. Just freaking great!
More tears.
I can’t stop them. I can’t control them. I can’t even tell myself that everything is okay. It’s as if I have lost any authority over my body.
“I’m embarrassed,” I reply. “I wish I wasn’t crying right now and that this was all some sort of nightmare I haven’t woken up from yet.”
“No need to be embarrassed,” he says while pulling me into a hug. He wraps his strong, comforting arms around my shoulders, but I stand there ramrod straight, not sure if I should touch him or not. He smells so good, like yummy man. Not the best description, but that’s all I have. Yummy man. And I know if I wrap my arms around him, I might not let go, as this has all been so scary, so different, so challenging. The comfort of his arms very well might make me melt. “And I believe the crying is bound to happen when you’re pregnant. At least from what I’ve read.”
That makes me shoot off him, putting at least two feet of distance between us.
I swipe at my cheeks as panic sears through me. “What have you read?”
My panic mirrors his as we both stare at each other. “Uh . . . just an article.”
“What kind of article?” I ask him.
“You know.” He swallows. “The kind that is sent to me every week to tell me what you will be experiencing and how I can help you. And before you get mad, I know you told me not to read anything, but I can’t just sit back and not know what you’re going through. This is helpful to me.”
“So do you just look at me and say, oh, that’s her being emotional because her hormones are out of whack?”
“Yeah, kind of, but it’s better than me thinking, wow, she’s a complete psycho.”
