“I mean it.”
Her smile softens. And when I kiss her, she doesn’t hesitate.
My hands find the hem of her dress, and I don’t rush it. I gather the fabric slowly, letting my knuckles brush the outside of her thighs as I lift it, watching her face instead of what I’m doing.
She raises her arms, and I pull the dress up and over her head, letting it fall somewhere behind me.
She’s left in her bra and underwear, and I see the moment self-consciousness creeps in. Her arms shift as if to cover herself, but I take her wrists gently and guide them back down.
“None of that,” I say.
I hook my fingers into the waistband of her underwear and ease them down slowly, steady enough that she rests a hand on my shoulder to keep her balance. She steps out of them, and I stay there for a moment, my hands resting lightly on her calves before I stand again.
A moment later, there’s nothing left between us but the vulnerability she’s trying not to show.
Then I lower myself in front of her. No rush. No hesitation.
I look at her.
All of her.
The way her body has changed. Not less. Never that. Just different. Softer at her waist. Fuller. Her stomach rounded with our child. The faint silver lines low on her skin catching the light—evidence of what she’s carrying, what she’s done.
I don’t rush past any of it.
“Dane.”
Her voice is quiet, carrying that rare vulnerability she almost never lets anyone see.
“I’m looking, babe,” I say. “Don’t rush me.”
She exhales slowly and lets me.
“Don’t decide what you think I see when I look at you. You have no idea.”
She hesitates before saying it.
“I’m not sexy the way I used to be.”
“Charlotte, you’re growing my baby inside you. Do you understand how beautiful that is?”
My hands move over her—her hips, her waist, the curve of her stomach—relearning her.
“Knowing there’s a part of me inside you...” I shake my head. “That makes you sexier than you’ve ever been.”
For a moment, I stay where I am, my hands resting on the curve of her stomach, trying to take it all in.
Our child.
The thought still doesn't feel real.
Then I rise to my feet and pull her closer, pressing a kiss to the side of her neck. She breathes out, and some of the tension leaves her with it.
“You’re so fucking beautiful,” I say. “Always.”
Her hands come up to my shoulders.
“You always manage to make me feel beautiful.”
