“Okay.” I shrug.
“They want to do dinner at my apartment tonight.”
“Sounds great.”
“Claire, they are going to be all over you. It’s going to be too much,” he says like he’s trying to get me to understand something.
All I see is family, though. A chance for me and Teeny to have an extended family that will love their little niece or nephew.
“Bring it on. As long as I can sit down and eat.” I rub the side of my leg.
“You overdo it?” He’s next to me immediately, massaging my hip.
“Went to go see Maisie about the blog and decided to walk around after. I may have done too much.”
“You’ve got to take it easy.”
“Gee, thanks, I had no idea. I’m pregnant, not immobile. I may not love all of this”—I gesture to my belly—“but I’m still capable.”
“I know. I just worry about you.” He presses a kiss to my cheek.
“Just wait until Teeny is actually here.” I smirk up at him.
“I know. I’m so screwed.” His hand moves from my hip to my belly.
We stand like that for a long while. Not saying anything, just being together in the quiet of my apartment.
“So, are we heading to your place now?” I ask.
“Woody gave me the rest of the day off, so I suppose so. They’ll only come hunt me down if I don’t come home soon.”
“I really am excited to meet them.”
“They’re wonderful, really. They’re just so much at once.”
“Well, they’re family now, so there’s no time like the present.” I spin to face him, a big smile on my face.
He stands still, eyes shifting between mine.
“What?”
His hands cup my cheeks as he presses the sweetest, most emotion-filled kiss I’ve ever had. When his forehead rests on mine, his eyes finally open. “You’re so incredible. Thank you.”
“What did I say?” I whisper.
“You already accepted my family. Just like that.”
“Well, yeah. Without Charlie, I’m glad Teeny will have aunts who will love them through thick and thin.” I shrug, but I see the emotions running rampant in his eyes. This was a huge deal for him.
He squeezes me in a hug as much as he can around a seven-month pregnant belly. It’s getting harder and harder to cuddle, and I hate it.
“What are you craving for dinner?”
“Breakfast for dinner,” I say immediately.
“That’s three days this week, baby mama.”
“Do not call me that.” I roll my eyes.
