“Carter.” She begins to protest, but I can tell she is no longer physically able to.
“I’m waiting.” I hold my arm out to show her that there is plenty of space for her to walk on over to my car. “Come on. Five minutes to my house or forty minutes back to your parents’. What’s it going to be?”
The sound of defeat is the only thing I hear when she is no longer reluctant and gets out of the car.
“Oh gee, someone listened,” I mock. “I’ll come back for your car when Oliver gets home and can take me.” The joys of having your brother also be your neighbor.
“Fine.” She’s a little sluggish, but she heads to my car.
Her telling me she’s pregnant doesn’t feel as though it happened twenty minutes ago. Mostly it’s due to the fact that I’m already two steps ahead and taking care of her.
* * *
I guessit’s different this time.
It’s not dark, and we’re not scrambling to get clothes off. Six weeks ago, there wasn’t a moment to stop, and Rosie couldn’t study my living room and kitchen. We went straight to my bedroom, and the next day, she left as soon as the sun was up.
It’s simple but modern, with a fresh feel. Open concept, a lot of white and gray throw pillows. When we were married, we had a cozy three-bedroom off of Main Street. Everything was updated but had more character, she said.
But this house? It’s big enough for four babies. Everhope Road? There is an abundance of neighbors and everyone says hi. There is a playground down the street which our son or daughter can enjoy.
I’m already thinking in the future when I need to think in the now.
“I’ll grab you a shirt if you want to shower. Maybe you want to lie down on the bed.” Really, I say it innocently, but then it feels anything but when Rosie’s eyes widen slightly. “In the guest room,” I clarify.
“The sofa is fine. I bet I’ll feel good as new after a nap or something.”
I rub the back of my neck. “Sure. I can find you something to snack on if you think it will help. Toast, perhaps.”
She smiles politely at me. “I’ll try, but first I need a shower and to clean my mouth, if that’s okay.”
“Yeah, come on. I’ll grab you a towel and bring you some clothes.”
“While I’m in the shower?” She’s teasing me. To many, it would be flirting, and at least, she’s relaxed around me enough to joke now. A contrast to earlier.
She walks past me as if she owns the place, and I follow willingly. “I think I’ve seen it all.”
“True. Soon, I’ll be huge, though.”
I grin to myself. “With my baby inside of you.”
She stalls on a step in front of me. It’s probably the way I easily sounded like a man who is proud and protective, maybe even possessive. Not at all borderline crazy.
Swallowing, I feel the need to correct myself. “Ourbaby.”
Rosie clears her throat and says no more. After I show her the guest shower, I leave some towels for her by the sink, and I let her be. Being a gentleman, I slipped some clothes through the crack of the door during her shower. In no way shape or form did I glance into the foggy mirror to see the outline of her petite frame and her wet hair cascading down her back as she faced the back tiles.
It took a long breath to remind my dick that she’s off limits… temporarily or not.
Once I’m downstairs, I make some toast and leave out butter and jam. She always had this obsession about cold toast. She would always say it’s a better way to taste the jam. I never understood it, but Rosie has many quirks. She once burned sage all over the house before letting a frog into the house for luck.
Twenty minutes later, I’m walking down the stairs, having changed into jeans and a tee. “Did you find everything, okay?” I ask as I hop off the last step. I don’t get any reply, and my face stills for a second, slightly in fear that she left. “Rosie?” Still no answer.
When I search, I see a half-eaten piece of toast on the kitchen island before my eyes swing to the couch in the living room where Rosie is sound asleep.
My lips twitch, wanting to smile because she’s beautiful. Slightly worn out and pale, but beautiful. It’s just the way her hand rests against her cheek or the fact the throw blanket is only covering her middle. It also means I see bare legs and my shirt that drowns her.
The clock on the walls informs me that it’s actually dinner time, and with Rosie clearly out like a log, I assume she might actually be out for the night or at least for a solid sleeping session.
