I set her plate in front of her, then bend to kiss the top of her head. “Fine. Explain it again.”
She gives me a pleased smile because she knows damn well I’ll listen to anything she wants to tell me. “A babymoon is a trip you take before the baby comes. One last getaway before everything changes.”
My life changed the second Rosalyn stepped into it. It changed again when she stood barefoot in my yard and told me to ask her. It changed in a judge’s office two weeks later, when she wore a white sundress and promised me forever. It changedthe morning Rosalyn walked out of the bathroom holding a pregnancy test with shaking hands and a smile I’ll remember until I’m dead.
Now she’s carrying our baby, and every damn day I wake up more aware of how much I have to protect.
“So,” I say, sitting across from her. “Where do you want to go?”
Her mouth twitches. “Hawaii.”
I stare at her.
She presses her lips together, trying and failing to look innocent.
“You want to go back to Hawaii,” I say, unamused.
“It was very beautiful.”
“It was hot as hell.”
“It had beaches.”
“It had crowds.”
“It had fruit drinks.”
“It had a woman asking me about indoor plumbing.”
Rosalyn laughs, her hand moving over her belly. The sound gets me the way it always does, straight through the chest. I can grumble about Hawaii all I want, but if she seriously wants to go there, I’ll have us packed before sunset.
“If that’s what you want,” I tell her, “I’ll take you.”
Her smile softens. “Barrett.”
“I mean it.”
“I know you do.”
“Then why are you looking at me that way?”
“Because I was teasing you.”
I frown. “You don’t want Hawaii?”
“I don’t want a big trip at all.” She reaches across the table and hooks her fingers through mine. “I’m happy here.”
“You sure?”
“Yes.”
“Because if you’re saying that for me, don’t.”
“I’m saying it because I’m six months pregnant, tired by eight o’clock, and deeply attached to sleeping in our bed.”
“Our bed’s a good bed.”
“It’s an excellent bed.”
