"Well," I said in a cutesy voice, something I'd never imagined I'd do. Cutesy and I didn't get along much. Until now. Having a baby had turned me into a blithering—well, mom. Not an idiot, even on my worst day I wasn't that. But I'd also never expected to be a mom, so this had been a pleasant surprise.
"Your Daddy will be inside soon," I told the baby. We'd opted not to find out the sex. The surprise and subsequent shopping would be a blast. I'd picked up one outfit for the baby to wear home from the hospital, and we'd bought enough clothes in yellow and other neutral colors to last us a week or two. Then we would be able to shop, and hell, I already did most of my shopping online anyway.
It wasn’t like the baby would care. All they'd care about was that they'd get all the love and acceptance in the world.
Lucian and I were over the moon about the pregnancy. I sat up in my recliner and peeked out of the window at him. He was halfway done with the front yard and had already finished in the back. He'd be done just in time for a shower, then a quick bowl of the soup from the slow cooker, then off to choir practice.
The baby kicked again, reminding me I was supposed to be talking to it. "Sorry, Bubula," I crooned, using a pet name my mother had used for me. "Mommy is still here."
The baby rolled around, delighting me with the movement. "You'll be out here soon, and you'll see why I think your dad is so awesome." Ten more weeks, if I made it to my due date. The doctor said I could go over, given it was my first pregnancy. I hoped not. However, I didn't want my little one to come too early either and have difficulties. But I also couldn't wait to meet them.
I hummed and finished my nails with one eye on the show I'd seen several times before, but still I learned something new every time I watched it. My work as a beauty blogger wasn't particularly strenuous, it allowed me time to pursue leisurely pleasures like television shows, reading, and crafts. And my favorite thing, exercise.
And why did I love to exercise? Simple. I loved to eat. Fucking loved it. To keep the pounds at bay, I kept a regular exercise regimen including swimming, yoga, and running.
I didn’t have alotof time for goofing off. Staying on top of beauty trends, new products, as well as creating and editing my videos took nearly as much time as Lucian did at his day job.
A sharp movement made me grunt. "My gosh, baby, which way are you facing?" It'd either punched or kicked my bladder. I struggled out of the recliner and made my way to the bathroom, then wipedverycarefully so I didn't smudge my nails again.
When I realized how far away my underwear was, given my belly and the strain it took to bend over, I just left them off. Wasn't worth the trouble. I kicked them into the corner of the bathroom where a small pile of dirty clothes rested. Lucian would get them later and put them in the wash. He washed and dried, and I folded. Our deal, because he hated to fold clothes.
Which was fine with me because he was really bad at it.
As I waddled into the kitchen, I inspected my nails. Damn, I'd smudged one.
Instead of repainting it, I licked it and sure enough, the nail smoothed out. An old beauty hack.
"Ha," I told the rogue nail. "Fixed you."
"Connie? Who are you talking to?" Lucian's voice scared the piss out of me—almost literally.
I jumped and whirled around, moving faster than I'd moved in quite a while. "Damnit, Luc, you scared me. I almost peed."
He burst out laughing as he walked to the sink. Turning on the water, he washed the grime off his hands.
"You should do that in the garage," I scolded. "That's why we have a utility sink in there."
He blanched. "Sorry, Princess. I wasn't thinking. I took my boots off on the back porch. I'll clean them off after choir practice."
His jeans were covered in grass, and he'd tracked it in. "Go strip in the laundry room." I pointed to the big utility room off the kitchen. Luc saluted me and tiptoed out of the room. I grabbed the broom, which I'd left leaning against the corner of the fridge, and cleaned up the grass. When bending over had become nearly impossible, I'd bought a dustpan with a long handle, but Lucian rarely let me use it. He said it was my job to make a baby and do whatever made me happy.
Nesting made me happy, so I'd cleaned and organized the entire house. I'd had to switch to doing it while he was at work or else he hovered over me, trying to take over and do it all for me.
The man was a saint.
He ambled out of the utility room in his black boxer-briefs, and I raised an eyebrow. My husband’s physique had grown larger and bulkier as time went by and he continued working out. He enjoyed exercise as much as I did and maybe even more, but he was more into weights than cardio. I loved all the ridges and planes on his large body.
I wolf-whistled at him, eliciting a deep chuckle. "You like what you see?" He flexed his muscles and wiggled his eyebrows at me.
"Too sexy for words." After blowing him a kiss, I giggled as I watched his black hair fall into his eyes since he hadn't fixed it yet. He normally gelled it and dried it in a way that looked natural and out of his face. He blew it away and turned for the stairs. "Be right back."
I loved that he took care of his appearance without moving into the feminine area. He was all masculine, but he also smelled nice and had great hair. My kind of man.
I had a friend whose husband believed a man should have a natural, musky smell that came from infrequent showers and hard work.
No, thanks. Not in this lifetime or any other.
He climbed the stairs one at a time, flexing and wiggling his butt on his way up.
