“And when they looked at my stomach, or asked how we met, or waited until you were caught up in some discussion about employment trends and then asked me about our relationship?”
“You say we’re friends. You say, your house won’t be ready to move into for another couple months. You say whatever you’re comfortable with.”
“That’s the thing, Jeff. I’m not comfortable with any of it. Not now. In six months, when your mother is throwing some garden party, and I’m living in my own place and you want us to go together? I’ll be fine. You’ll be able to introduce me as your son’s or daughter’s mother. I’ll be on my own, actually living the life I’m going to have and not caught in some fairy-tale place I don’t want to have to explain the temporary nature of.”
He looked like he wanted to argue, but then their in-vitro soccer player took a hard shot at her belly and she flinched, still stunned by the force of those kicks.
Her hand covered the spot and Jeff’s attention was immediately fixed on the little world contained within her belly.
“Active?” Abandoning her foot, he shifted closer so he could rest his palms across the hard swell of her stomach.
“I think he liked the roast chicken your mother brought over earlier.”
Another kick landed just below Jeff’s hand, and Darcy watched his face light with awe and enough tender joy she could feel it in her own chest.
Leaning down, he dropped a kiss against the spot where his hand had been and then turned so his cheek rested lightly there. Darcy stroked his hair, focusing on the bliss of that moment, trying to remember every detail. The warm wash of breath against her skin. The fullness of her belly and her heart.
She wouldn’t hope for it to last forever. Only that she remember it when it was gone.
* * *
Standing in the doorway of the master bath, Jeff straightened his tie and secured his links. Across the bedroom, Darcy lay half covered with the blanket she couldn’t commit to and preferred to keep balled up against her chest, with one leg covered and the other thrown over the top.
She’d finally gotten past the morning sickness, but contrary to how his fantasies had played out, morning was still not her friend. She slept later every day, probably because she was up several times a night thanks to Baby Norton sleeping with one foot on her bladder. And when she woke—
Don’t make Hulk angry.
—it was definitely better to give her a few minutes before trying to strike up a conversation.
He’d been seeing her less and less before he left for work. And then thinking about her more and more through those hours they were apart...ultimately leaving the office earlier than his workload required.
Which brought him to his current system. Glancing at the clock, he saw it was four-fourteen. He’d be at his desk by quarter to five and then home a dozen hours later. Which left him as many hours as Darcy had in her in the evenings.
It worked for him.
He was there to see her every day. Be a part of all the doctor visits. The quirky moods and quiet reflections. And around all that—whether she was purring like a kitten or snoring just that side of delicately—she was in his bed. Exactly where he wanted her to be.
Problem was, in just over a month Darcy was going to leave his apartment to have their baby. And when the hospital released her, she wouldn’t be coming back. She wanted to move into her own space. No blurry lines regarding the end of their affair.