Heat flushed her cheeks at the dirty thought.
He shut his tailgate and turned, and when he did, he gave her a genuine smile that just about devastated her knees’ ability to hold her upright. Straight white teeth and two dimples she could barely make out because of the day-old scruff on his jaw. No time to shave this morning apparently, and thank God for tiny blessings because Gia wanted to rub her face down the side of his like a territorial cat. Meow, mine, mine, mine.
Shit, no. He wasn’t hers. He was just her baby daddy. Whom she had a crush on.
Now her cheeks were on fire.
The smile dipped from his face and his dark, animated brows drew down. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing!” God, that was loud. Clearing her throat, she smiled shakily. “Nothing. I’m good.”
Creed snuck a look to his crew who were gathering near a bricked-in fire pit in the middle of the park. No one was watching them. Their attention was on a man limping toward them from the tree line.
Leaning forward, Creed gripped her waist and pulled her to him. “You look fucking hot in them holey jeans, woman.”
Gia laughed and looked down at the only remaining pair of pants that fit her burgeoning belly. She’d bought them as lounge-around-the-house jeans, but apparently Creed was into the tattered look. “You want to see something kind of embarrassing?”
Creed eased back against his truck and lifted his chin. “Show me.”
She snuck a glance to the guys who were now talking low to the man from the woods, then she lifted the hem of her sweater and squeaked out an embarrassed sound. She’d never shared this part of her pregnancy with anyone.
“Is that a rubber band?”
Gia pushed her pelvis forward so he could see it better. “I can’t button my pants anymore so this is all I can do if I don’t want to walk around with them completely undone.”
Creed brushed his finger across the loop of her hair band that connected her button to the button hole, then across the thin strip of skin she’d exposed by lifting her shirt. “I have a weird request.”
“What is it?”
“You can say no.”
“Creed, tell me!”
He rubbed his hand over his hair. Was he blushing? “Can I see your stomach?”
“You’ve seen it before.”
“Yeah, well, it didn’t have my kid in it then. I haven’t been around a pregnant woman.”
“Ever?”
“Ever.”
She inhaled deeply as another wave of nerves made her skin tingle. “I’m a little self-conscious about that part.”
“Why?”
Gia shrugged a shoulder up miserably. “I’m losing my figure. I keep gaining all this weight because I’m so hungry, and I didn’t get morning sickness like other women so I’ve just been eating everything in sight. I’ve gained twenty pounds already, and I’m only halfway through this pregnancy. Even my doctor told me I need to lay off the snacks.”
“Wait, your doctor said that?”
“Yeah. He said I’ll never get my figure back if I keep going like this.”
“Your doctor is an asshole, and that can’t be true. And besides, I think you look way better now than you did. I mean, shit. I thought you were hot before, but now you look…healthy.” He screwed his face up.
“Healthy?” She was trying not to smile, but good lordy that was a strange compliment.
“Sorry, I’m not awesome with words. I mean, when you were walking out here in your little skintight sweater and those holey jeans, I thought, ‘Damn, I had that,’ and I felt lucky because a girl who looks like you wouldn’t usually pay a lick of attention to a good ol’ boy like me. And there you were, walking my way with your eyes on my body.” He grabbed her hand and pressed it against the hard roll of his erection, then released her. “Yeah, healthy.”
Warmth flooded into her as she let her hand drop to her side. The butterflies went to flapping so hard, she couldn’t breathe, and now she couldn’t keep the smile from her face if she tried. “Be nice,” she whispered, then lifted her shirt over the swell of her belly.
Creed grinned and pulled her behind his truck, shielding her from the others. A look of awe took his face as he rubbed his hands over her smooth skin. “Have you felt him move yet?”
“Yes, mostly at night or after I drink orange juice. And why did you call it a him? Are you hoping for a boy?”
“No.” Creed frowned. “I don’t know. I haven’t thought about it. It just didn’t feel right calling him ‘it.’”
“But yesterday, you called him a ‘thing.’”