He turned, Krissa still behind him. She gave him her back as she closed the door, all bundled up in that butt-ugly robe. Nah, nothing Krissa wore could be ugly. He’d just rather see her in…less.
She slowly turned to face him, adjusted the belt at her waist.
“Your eyes?”
“Huh?” His gaze roved over her beautiful face.
“Are your eyes okay now?”
“Oh. Yeah. Fine. Back to normal.”
“I’m so glad.”
He was so fascinated with her face, her sparkly green eyes, that lush mouth, he didn’t at first notice that her hands were at a waist that was no longer slim.
A frown tugged his brows together. His breath left him all at once and his head went empty. He took a stiff step toward her. “Krissa?”
Her eyes were huge in her small face. Her teeth nibbled her bottom lip, her fingers toyed with the robe. His eyes went again to her stomach and he moved closer, put out a hand. Hell. Could she be…?
He didn’t know what to make of it. Didn’t know what to think. Couldn’t process it all. He laid his hand on her belly, rounded and hard under the soft robe. He lifted his eyes to hers with a question.
“Yes.”
At her whispered word, he looked down again, put both hands on her waist, or rather where her waist used to be. “Oh God.”
Was this his baby?
He’d only just found out she and Derek had split up. He tried to piece it all together. She’d left Derek when she was pregnant? Had they found another donor? But if he was the father, why hadn’t they told him?
Mind reeling with a million questions, he swallowed hard.
“Krissa?” Fuck, she was going to think he’d lost the ability to speak. And, apparently, he had.
“Yes,” she said again, as if reading his mind. “It’s our baby, Nate.”
His knees went weak, and without fighting it, he sank to the floor. Kneeling before her, he pressed his face to her belly, wrapped his arms around her. His chest so tight he could hardly breath, heart pounding, he fought back the tears that stung his eyes. Jesus. He felt her hands in his hair, gentle, tentative fingers stroking through it. All he could do was hold her like that, breathe in the scent of her…warm peaches and damp skin.
“In a few minutes,” he choked out, voice muffed in her robe, “we’re going to have a really big fight. I’m just telling you that so you’re ready. So you won’t run away.”
She snorted out a little laugh, fingers tightening on his head. Then she pushed him away. “Fine. You wanna fight? You wanna go? Come on.”
He caught her sparkling, laughing gaze and everything inside him softened and warmed. He let out a long breath.
He climbed to his feet, took her hands in his. “Are you okay?” He searched her eyes. “The baby…everything’s okay?
She nodded. “Everything’s fine.”
“Good.” He focused on breathing, chest still tight.
“So what are you doing here?” She repeated the question she’d asked when he’d been standing in the hall.
“Ah…looking for you.” He shook his head. “Jesus. What a dumb question.”
“So I’m dumb?” She gave him a look, that look he loved, chin down, looking at him up though her eyelashes. Emotion swelled in him almost unbearably. He swallowed.
He smiled slowly. “No. I didn’t say that. Can we sit down?”
“Yes, please. I’d like to sit before I fall down.”
