Hard Beat

Her chuckle is low and deep and vibrates into my chest and against my lips. “In about eight months we’ll find out which one of us is right.”

I whip my head back to look at her with surprise, my lips opening to speak, but nothing comes out as I glance down to where my hand rests on her belly, a life I helped create growing somewhere beneath it.

My eyes must ask the question for me because she just nods her head, a tear slipping down her cheek to the upturned corner of her mouth. “Yes.”

I was so wrong. Nothing, and I mean nothing, else can top this moment.

My little piece of Heaven after going through so much Hell.

Epilogue

5 months later

“Y

ou can’t look!” I tell her, pulling her hands away from the blindfold covering her eyes and then directing her through the house with my hands on her shoulders.

“What in the world?” she says, but I can hear the excitement, sense her trying to figure out what I’m doing.

“Stop right here and put your arms over your head.” I love the odd expression that appears on her face before it slides into a coy little smile.

“Well, Pulitzer, I know my belly is getting big and all that, but if you wanted to get kinky, all you had to do was ask. These pregnancy hormones have no problem having some fun.” Her throaty laugh fills our bedroom as I pull her T-shirt over her head. She does a little wiggle of her hips when I push down her yoga pants, but she keeps her arms up as if I’m cuffing them there with my own hands. “See. I must have expected this, because I’m not wearing any panties.”

And she sure as hell isn’t. That ache of desire that doesn’t ever seem to go away simmers anew at the sight of her in her bra, swollen breasts spilling over, and nothing else. I step back and appreciate the view of her naked body, still beautiful, still petite, but with a little basketball of a belly that makes a pride surge in my chest like I never could have imagined.

I lean forward and press my lips right above her navel. “I’ve got a surprise for your momma,” I murmur against her skin stretched taut and smelling like cocoa butter. And even though I’m in a hurry, I close my eyes momentarily when BJ lowers her hands to the sides of my cheeks and just holds them there in the sweetest of moments because I still can’t believe how all of this worked out.

When I step back, I know the questions will start again as her curiosity fires over what I’m up to. “Hands back above your head,” I order. She’s still thinking I’m going to do something kinky and the idea has never been more appealing while watching her obey my command, but we can do that later. I’ve got plans first.

First, I pick up the tank top that Rylee had helped me select and after a few fumbling seconds direct her hands through the holes of the sleeves and slide it down over her body, throwing a prayer up that it fits.

“I’m so confused.” She giggles as I pull the fabric down over her belly and sigh in relief that it stretches enough to fit around it. Next I pick up the pants with the stretchy waistband, drop to my knees, unable to resist running my fingertips up the line of her legs, and watch the goose bumps that appear in their wake. “Tanner.” She sighs from the feeling that causes her head to fall back and lips to fall open.

The sexy sight of her almost makes me want to put off my preparations and keep up this blindfolded game. But not quite. We can do this later. All night if she wants to, but right now I’ve got plans.

“Put your hands on my shoulders,” I tell her when I’m done smoothing my hands back down her legs and direct her hands to my shoulders. I help her into the pants, leg by leg, and pull them up so that they rest just below her bump.

“I could get used to this kind of play,” she murmurs, which causes me to chuckle but earns her a swat on the butt in turn.

“Later, Rook. I promise you,” I murmur, “I won’t forget, but right now I have a bigger surprise for you.” The smile comes instantly when I step back and see her in a khaki tank top and camouflage cargos, much like her constant attire when we met.

“Tanner,” she pleads as she shifts on her feet, antsy for whatever I have in store for her, and the best part of this whole thing is that I know exactly what’s going through BJ’s mind because I’ve left carefully planted clues a few times in the house.

Right now she is thinking that I’m throwing her a surprise baby shower. For the past month, since I’ve been planning everything for tonight, I’ve left random Post-it notes on my desk in plain sight about dates and party supplies, I’ve made cryptic phone calls to Rylee where I hang up suddenly when BJ enters the room, and I’ve made her register for baby items although she technically knows no one other than my family now. So BJ thinks I’m throwing her a baby shower, and I am in a way, just not the kind she’s imagining.

No. Her real baby shower is happening next weekend. Too many surprises in one day might not be good for the baby, and I definitely think this one takes precedence over next weekend’s.

Unable to resist her any longer, I lean forward and press a tender kiss against her lips. And even though I pull back when she tries to deepen the kiss, I bring my hands to the side of her face and hold her still while my forehead rests against hers, and I just drink everything about her in – all of the little things I thought I’d never get the chance to experience again – because it’s moments like this I’ll never take for granted.

“Do you trust me?”

“One hundred percent,” she says without hesitation in a way that makes my heart squeeze in my chest but causes me to fall silent while mentally preparing my little family for these next few moments.