Maybe fifteen minutes later, I heard her on the steps and glanced over that way, meeting her gaze with a dim smile.
"Thank you," she said with a sigh. "For bringing him here, I mean."
"No problem. It was nothing."
She shook her head, clearly disagreeing with that. "No, it was incredibly kind of you to make sure he was safe tonight. You could've easily let him get on the road like this, but … you didn't. So, thank you," she repeated.
An incredibly grateful stare came my way and I dipped my chin once. "You're welcome."
"I uh … I hate to ask anything else of you, but … do you think you can stay? I don't know what kind of night he's gonna have and-"
"I was already planning on it," I cut in, saving her from having to explain.
That made her smile and my attention went to her glossed lips. She sat beside me and the smell of cinnamon hit me like usual. I came to realize she carried it on her skin all the time. With her close, it filled the air around me-warm, sweet, inviting. Aggressively wayward thoughts came to mind next, like they do every time I'm around her. Tonight was clearly no different even with all that had gone on.
"I'm sorry your night got cut short because of this," she said, stealing my attention from the memory of her giving me head that night after the club.
I waved her off, letting her know an apology wasn't at all necessary. And it really wasn't. After all, I ended up here with her, so it wasn't all bad. "It was just pool," I replied. "I can hang out with them anytime."
One corner of her mouth curved when she smiled. "Well, good. I'm glad you're not disappointed."
She glanced away and so did I, laying eyes on an open book face down on the coffee table. Gesturing toward it, I asked, "Couldn't sleep again?"
Her head shook from side to side. "Nope. Thought reading might help, but so far it hasn't."
"Are you just restless or are you in pain?"
"Restless," she answered. "Always." After she spoke, her hand went to her stomach as she lightly dragged her nails across it and I guessed she was trying not to scratch.
"And I'm sure that doesn't help. The itching," I clarified.
She glanced down, not even realizing she was doing it. When she did, her hand dropped to her lap. Poor thing couldn't catch a break. It seemed like, at every turn, something else was ailing her.
"Did you put something on it like Dr. Rubino said to?"
Brynn nodded. "I did after I got out the shower, but it's been a couple hours."
"Petroleum jelly, right?" I asked, scooting to the edge of the couch to stand.
"Yeah."
"Where do you keep it?" I stared down on her, waiting for an answer.
"Far right side of my dresser."
I nodded and made my way toward the stairs to retrieve it, but her voice stopped me. Her suggestion stopped me.
"I'll just follow you up. Doesn't make sense for you to come back down as late as it is."
Apparently, that was my invitation to share her bed. I hoped that would be the case, but didn't expect it. Yes, she was welcome in mine the two times she stayed over, but I wasn't sure how she'd feel about that with someone else also staying over at her place.
I watched her double-check the lock on the front door before coming to my side, taking my hand as she led the way.
Naseem was knocked out, calling the hogs from the spare room when we passed by the door. I'd been in Brynn's bedroom only once and that was to grab her purse when she'd forgotten it on her bed before an appointment. Never to spend the night.
Nothing lit the space but a dim lamp on the dresser, illuminating the pale, lavender paint on her walls. That smell, her scent, was potent here and I breathed it in as it surrounded me-soft, beautiful, feminine. Just like her. A matching comforter with a lace overlay covered her bed, topped with about eight throw pillows all with splashes of yellow in their patterns-a hint of her favorite color hidden in the details. Everything was so neat, this time and the last. I almost didn't want to sit, thinking I'd wrinkle something if I did.
She sat on the edge of her mattress and then swung her legs up, reclining against the mountain of pillows as she pulled the covers over herself. I closed and locked her door before approaching the empty side of the bed and was suddenly more aware of the rough feel of my jeans against my legs. I didn't want to get in her bed with clothes I'd been out in the street wearing, nor did I want her to think I was assuming something was happening between us tonight just because we'd be sharing a bed. Taking my clothes off as I stood here would definitely give her that impression.
Of course, I was overthinking it and she made that obvious when she spoke casually the next second. "You can just drape your clothes across the chair over there. That way they won't get wrinkled on the floor."
That was a hell of a lot simpler than I thought it would be.
Taking her advice, I unbuttoned my shirt, revealing the ribbed tank underneath. Slipping it down my arms, I felt her watching. Pretty brown eyes followed my every move. When I locked onto them, they shied away as a smile curved the corners of her full lips.
Observing her expression, I thought back to my earlier slipup and added her smile to the list. It was one more thing I loved about her.
My jeans came off next and then I grabbed the jar of petroleum before taking a seat beside her, wearing nothing but the tank and gray boxer-briefs. She eyed the jar and then reached for it, thinking she'd apply it herself, but that wasn't quite what I had in mind. When I didn't loosen the grip I had on its sides, I think she realized that.
"I got you," was my way of telling her that I wanted to take care of her.
For a fraction of a second, it looked like she might object to that, but then she relaxed. The brown of her fingers peeked above the edge of the blanket covering her as she pushed it down to her hips. Her gown came up after that and the first hint of skin was revealed. She tucked it just below her breasts and they swayed a little in the absence of a bra. I noticed their movement and tried not to stare, but I wanted to.
With the blanket and her gown shielding the rest, the only thing exposed to me was her midsection. A dark line ran from her slightly protruding navel down below her waistline where I couldn't see. I noticed it darkening slowly, more and more with each visit to the doctor and knew it had something to do with the pregnancy, although I wasn't sure why it appeared. My eyes stayed trained there as I coated her skin in the thick substance, hoping it brought her some measure of relief.
Her abdomen was hardening, too. I touched it often to feel our daughter move, so I noticed all the subtle changes, including how much stronger the baby was getting. What once felt like gentle pokes and nudges were now powerful jabs that made Brynn smile every time. I smoothed my hand down her side and, sure enough, the touch was returned from the inside.
"That never gets old," I said with a smile, catching Brynn's from the corner of my eye.
Russet-toned skin with a deep, red hue glistened as I caressed it.
"Never," she concurred. "She moves around so much at night. Makes me think I'm gonna be in for a treat once she gets here." The comment was dripping with sarcasm. "I'm thinking she'll keep me up most of the night and then sleep all day. Kind of like I do now," she added with a laugh.
I wished there was something I could do to make her more comfortable, but I had a feeling things would get worse before they got better. She still had a couple months to go, which meant whatever she was feeling right now would most likely hit her tenfold by the end.
"I was talking to your mom about it the other day. She said Marcela was like that-a night owl."
I smiled, but not at the memory her words induced; I smiled at the mention of one of her and my mother's casual phone conversations. They'd been doing that a lot lately, getting to know one another outside of our Sunday dinners, and I loved watching them become closer. My sisters had even started calling and texting her sometimes just to check in. It meant the world to me that they all cared enough on their own to make those steps with Brynn. She didn't have many people she was close to here in Houston, so I hoped my family could step in and become that for her. They were good people to have in your corner.
I made another big circle around the circumference of her stomach with my hand and she let out a breath. My thoughts were still on her statement and it got my wheels turning.
"How would you feel about either me staying here or you staying at my place when you first deliver?" I asked the question and then waited in silence. So many thoughts passed through my head when she didn't answer right away.
Feeling the need to clarify, I explained further. "I don't mean anything permanent. I'm just talking a few weeks. That way I can help out, ‘cause I'm sure she's gonna be a handful when she first gets here. I can get up with her sometimes at night, take care of her during the day when you need to chill or get a nap." I paused and decided to reveal the rest of what was on my heart. "And besides … I really don't want to miss anything."