She responded less quickly, her eyes taking a little trip around naked Danny before shielding her view with a hand in front of her face. “You’re breaking a rule, Mr. Ellis.” She turned and sat back against the couch cushions.
Danny smiled. “You broke them first.”
“So this is retaliation?” she said to the TV.
“No actually. I’m still working on my revenge plan. This is me grabbing a drink when you’re supposed to be sound asleep in your bed.”
“I couldn’t sleep,” she said softly.
Was it because of the same reason he couldn’t? “Don’t move. I’ll be right back.” He ran upstairs, threw on a pair of sweatpants and a T-shirt and hustled back to join Liv on the couch.
She glanced his way out of the corner of her eye, but otherwise didn’t move a muscle when he sat, close, but not too close. Things had been strained between them since the morning they’d learned of Mrs. L.’s illness.
He put his feet up on the coffee table. “Why is there no sound?”
“It’s not so scary if I can’t hear what’s going on.”
Great. This was one of those movies. He rolled his head to the side to look at Liv’s profile. “C’mere.”
Chin tucked into her shoulder, she scooted over until she fit under his outstretched arm, her head on his chest, her body snug against his side. “We can change the channel. I’ve seen this one before.”
“It’s okay. You comfortable?” This was the first time she’d cuddled against him since her pregnancy and after today’s doctor’s appointment and seeing the tiny swell of her stomach, he wanted to be sure this position worked.
“Very.”
He closed his eyes and once again thought about this morning—Dr. Silver putting the hand-held fetal monitor on Liv’s belly, then the strong, rapid drumming of the baby’s heartbeat filling the examination room.
Filling his chest like nothing else ever had before.
“Your baby’s heart beats between 110 and 160 times per minute,” Dr. Silver had said. Your. Baby. And she was. His. They didn’t know the sex yet, but he had a feeling it was a girl. He also knew spending the next twenty-eight weeks with Liv watching her stomach grow, reading What To Expect When You’re Expecting with her, and making sure baby-to-be and mommy had everything they needed, meant more to him than he’d ever imagined.
When Dr. Silver had finished and left them alone in the room, Liv had taken his hand and placed it on her stomach, laid her hand atop his, and looked up at him with so much adoration in those dark green eyes of hers that he’d stopped breathing.
They’d stared at each for a long time, and it had taken every ounce of strength he had not to bend down and kiss her. Tenderly. With admiration. Awe.
On the television screen, the token sex scene that preceded the couple being stabbed to death by the killer kicked into R-rated gear. Liv squirmed the slightest bit, but enough to tell him she needed to let off some sexual steam as much as he did.
She flattened her palm against his rib cage and used her other arm to push herself up to look at him. Lust shimmered underneath long eyelashes and heavy lids. Her pink lips parted and all he could think about were those lips wrapped around his growing erection.
He watched her mouth close and a swallow labor it’s way down her throat. “I’m going to bed,” she said, her voice a sexy rasp that curled around his aching body. “Good night.”
“Night,” he muttered, staying put until he heard her reach the top of the stairs. Then he turned off the TV, got himself a drink of water, and went to sleep wondering when they’d lose the battle.
Uncertainty no longer outweighed the intimacy he craved to have with her. He was a ticking time bomb, ready to risk the blast and hopeful they could handle it without attaching too much weight to it. Screw an open marriage. He wanted to have sex with his fiancée. His wife.
…
“Are you sure this looks okay?” Liv asked as they arrived at Zane and Sophie’s house the next day. The smell of something barbecuing on the grill wafted to Danny’s nose and he didn’t bother knocking on the front door. He just walked them inside before pausing to reassure his nervous best friend.
“You look amazing,” he said honestly.
“I feel a little… exposed.” She ran her hands down the front of the maternity dress she’d bought the other day. “Maybe I should run home and put on something that doesn’t show so much”—she glanced down—“cleavage.”
Best part of the dress if you asked him. The scoop neckline did show off more skin than she normally shared, but there was nothing indecent about it. Sexy came to mind.