Sure Thing(72)

“Don’t distract me,” I say, because when he’s this close we tend to end up distracted. Naked and distracted.

“I’m not doing anything,” he replies but when he speaks his breath tickles my neck and I get butterflies in my stomach. The butterflies get bigger as his lips curve into a smile where they’re pressed against my neck, because the results are in. Two lines. Two very distinctive, no-doubt-about-it lines.

I spin around so we’re facing each other and then we’re both smiling and laughing and I wrap my legs around his waist as he carries me from the bathroom through to the adjoining master.

“You won’t be able to do this much longer,” I mumble.

“Do what? Make love to you in the middle of the day? The baby will nap, surely.”

“No, silly. You won’t be able to carry me like this much longer.” My arms are on his shoulders with my fingers interwoven behind his neck. I look down at the gap between us and back at him. “I won’t fit.”

“Hmm, probably not.” He drops me onto the bed with a dirty grin and I bounce as my ass hits the mattress. “I’ll carry you sideways if need be. How’s that?”

“You’re supposed to say something more reassuring than that.” I wrinkle my nose at him and narrow my eyes. “Lie to me. Tell me I’m going to gain less than a stone and total strangers will marvel over my svelte pregnancy figure.”

I hear women at work talk about weight in terms of stones. I’ve no idea what the conversion is to pounds but I like the idea of only needing to lose one of something.

I don’t work for Jennings. I held firm on needing my own identity. It took months to find a job once I relocated to London and I was tempted to cave, to admit defeat and buckle to the fears that I’d be unable to find anything on my own. But I didn’t. I stuck to it and eventually I found a position with a boutique design firm in London. I’ve learned so much and I love it and for now, it’s a perfect fit.

Jennings still wants me to work for the family company, of course. He says I’m brilliant and I’m denying the company my talent. He fills my head with visions of walking to work together and secret afternoon trysts in his office.

I’ll agree, someday. I’ve got a few more things I want to accomplish professionally on my own first. All in due time.

“Probably two or three stone,” Jennings says. “I think you’re more likely to gain two or three.”

Oh. That’s starting to sound like a lot. “But the baby will be a stone of that, right?”

“I should hope not, for your sake.”

“That’s not helpful.” I really need to look into this stone thing more carefully.

“You’re going to be the most gorgeously lush pregnant woman London has ever seen. Your pregnancy style will cause a sensation envied by women citywide, whilst every man under eighty will wish he were me.”

“That’s better.”

I lie back on the bed as Jennings lies next to me, one hand spread across my flat stomach. Our heads are turned towards one another and I rest my hand on top of his. He’s making the softest circles on my stomach, the touch a combination of possessive and comforting.

“You’ll be stunning. I won’t be able to keep my hands off of you.”

“You won’t?”

“I promise you I won’t. I’m quite looking forward to watching your body change.”

“You are?” This is news to me. He’s made his interest in children clear, but without pressuring me. He respected my need to establish my career on a new continent and has patiently waited for me to be ready. We’ve talked about it in the abstract, checking in with each other on timing and interest, but this I’ve not heard.

“You’ll be huge by summer and I’m going to buy you loads of pregnancy sundresses.”

“How sweet. And I’ll still love you when you have no hair.” He’s got great hair. It was all I could come up with.

He laughs. “It’ll get me off. Seeing you swell with my child.”

Damn. That’s some caveman talk right there. And makes me a little excited, if I’m being honest.

“Are you proud of yourself?” I ask him, fighting the grin from my face and doing my best to ask the question innocently.

“For knocking you up?”

“Yes.”

“Quite chuffed, yes.”

I laugh then, giggling until something else occurs to me. “Wait.” I bolt straight up on the bed and stare at Jennings. “I’m going to have a baby in England.”

“Yes. That’s indeed what’s happening.”

“Do you do it the same here?”