“You ain’t seen nothing yet.” I sigh happily.
I’m sure.
Chapter Twelve
Bruno
Five months later
“Sage green was a smart color, but this butter yellow isn’t right.” If she changes the colors in the nursery again, I might scream.
She rubs her belly in thought, and I groan, knowing that I’ll be heading back to town to get more paint.
“It needs to be lighter.” I chuckle cause last week it needed to be brighter.
“Mother knows best. Can it wait until tomorrow?” I come up behind her, hugging her around the swell of our child, who’s been so active at night she’s barely sleeping.
“No, I want to finish while I have the energy.” I sigh but nod, kissing her cheek.
“Anything else while I’m in town?” She shakes her head, lost in thought, as she surveys the mural she’s painted on the wall of what used to be my small office.
It’s basically a walk-in closet that I had no need of, which I used for my gun safe, a small desk, and a chair. It’s attached tothe bedroom, though, which is the important part. That and it fits the crib and changing table perfectly.
The bassinet sits under the window by our bed, and every morning when I wake, I glance inside on a mental clock down to when it will no longer be empty.
Ten or so weeks, give of take.
We’ve decided not to know the gender, so the nursery has become a gender nutral zoo theme. I glare at the fox that has become a house pet, no matter what I tried. His mama never came back, and it just didn’t take to the outside world as it should have. When he came back one night, his fur red with blood, Rosario lost it, and he’s been inside ever since.
I’m pretty sure he’s a runt because he hasn’t grown much, and I don’t have the heart to tell my wife that he might not make it much longer, since he’s not eating much. All signs of an animal preparing for the end. Honestly, it’s probably why the mother left it behind.
She’s going to be crushed.
“He’s looking at me weird again.” The fox yawns and then lays his head down like he wasn’t just giving me the stink eye.
“No, he’s not.” I roll my eyes yet again.
“How about Snowy?” I snort as I grab my keys.
“We are not naming him. He’s not a pet. Also, I may veto your ability to name our child as well. You aren’t good at it, sweetheart.” She smacks at my arm, forgetting the paint brush in her hand and flicking drops all over me.
“Whoops! I’m so sorry.” She tries to wipe them away, but all it does is make me look even more like a Picasso painting.
“Stop! I’ll change.” I chuckle as I pull my shirt off and then smirk as I hear her groan in appreciation.
The only pregnancy symptom that has not let up is her sexual appetite. I’m having the best sex of my life, and it’s all thanks to my family’s inability to take no for an answer. It really is ironic.
“Ok, I’ll have them add some cream to this to lighten it, but then that’s it, sweetheart. We can’t keep changing things, or we will run out of time and be painting with the baby here. Deal?” She nods with a small smile.
“Love you, see you soon.” I kiss her and grab the paint.
“Still not right, huh?” I laugh at the way the owner of our local hardware store glares at the gallon of paint I’ve had him adjust three times.
“Can you believe it’s too bright now?” He burst out laughing as he pries the caan open.
“So we’re adding white?” I shake my head.
“No, go with a cream. Had her promise this was the last time.” He nods as he gets to work.
