It took some adjusting—on both our parts—to get used to being near each other again, but I felt like we were finally getting into a routine. We made small talk and asked questions. I made it known from the start that I wanted to be involved in her OB appointments and anything to do with the divorce. I realized that I was pushing for a lot, especially since we’d only just reconnected, but I couldn’t help it. I needed for her to know that she wasn’t alone anymore. She was still pretty tight-lipped about the talk we’d had the night I asked her to move in with me. I assumed she had questions to ask me about the night I left, but she hadn’t said anything yet. Her eyes had been so lost and hurt when I told her. I decided that I’d let her come to me when she was ready. It couldn’t have been easy being in her shoes. I dropped a bomb on her. I knew she had been hurt badly, and now because of my mistake, she was in this mess. I’m surprised she didn’t hate me. But she kept moving forward, refusing to look back. It was admirable, but I worried that everything was building somewhere inside; like a ticking time bomb. I knew there was a chance that someday she would explode and I would be the one to take the brunt of it. I’ll gladly take it too.
Being here with her has been more than I could have ever asked for. There had been more than several times when the physical tension between Em and I had sparked while we were still adjusting to our new routines. A few days ago Em and I went to the paint store to pick out wall colors for the nursery…
She couldn’t decide on a color so we brought home three different ones. It was good that we’d just taken samples because when she got home, she decided one looked like baby puke, and so that was ruled out. I’d gone to get some plastic from the garage to put down on the carpet before we started painting, but when I walked back in the room, Em had already painted two shades of yellow on the wall and was standing in front of them pondering.
“What’s the matter?” I said, squatting beside her as I lay out the plastic.
“Should we use ‘Lemon Twist’, or ‘Pineapple Cream’?” Her eyes were darting back and forth between the two shades.
“Are we talking about paint colors or dessert?”
She slapped my shoulder. “Finn, I’m being serious. That’s what they’re called.” She looked from my face back at the wall. “This one is a bit brighter and fun, while this one is pretty and calming.”
I chuckled. “Em it’s paint, not rocket science. They’re both yellow, and I’m sure the baby won’t care what color the walls are.”
I could see her rolling her eyes, which made me laugh a bit harder. “They’re not just paint colors. There’s a science behind it. Brighter colors attract a baby’s attention; it’s something they like to stare at. But softer colors are soothing.”
I stood close to her and heard her let out a small gasp. Lowering my eyes to hers, I put my hands on her shoulders. “How about you close your eyes and I spin you around and you point to one?” I was teasing, but my voice had grown huskier. She smelled like sweet fruit, and the paint that she’d already managed to get on her hands.
Her eyes glanced over to one of my hands, and she swallowed. “Not funny. Help me choose, please?” She said softly.
I watched her beautiful sweet face, obviously not just conflicted about paint colors.
“Okay Tiny Girl.” I sighed and turned her to stand in front of me. Her small frame pressed into the length of my body. There was no way she couldn’t feel I was aroused. “That one.” I pointed to, what I assumed was, Pineapple Cream. I moved my mouth down to her ear, “Soft and soothing seems to be the way to go.”
She shivered. “Finn…”
I knew she wanted me but the way she said my name… it was like she was pleading with me to stop whatever it was we were doing. I cleared my throat, “I’m going to go change into something I can get paint on.”
She nodded and I walked out of the room…
I was in one of the spare bedrooms that I’d set up for my music, and Kyler was strumming his guitar and pausing every few second to write down the notes. I was working on a new song when I heard the front door open and close. I got up and stretched when I saw Em standing at the door watching me. My shirt had ridden up and part of my stomach was showing. Her eyes were zeroed in on the exposed patch of skin and I gave her a sly grin when I dropped my arms and her eyes traveled back up to my face. She glared at me because I’d caught her.
“What’s up preggo?” Ky stopped playing his guitar and sat back on the black futon I’d bought for the room. Ky and I painted the walls red and black last week and set up pretty much everything we’d needed to use the room as a new studio.
She shifted her eyes from mine to look at him. “Not much, just got back from work. I’m about to change and go cook dinner. Are you sticking around?”
“Nah! I’ve got to go check in with my Dad and I thought maybe Harper could use a surprise visit.” His devilish grin made me laugh.
“Careful there buddy. Who knows what that woman will do when she’s surprised.” I poked at Ky.
“That’s the fun of it my man!” He started gathering his things.
Em was still standing in the doorway Ky beside her. He leaned down and kissed her cheek. If it had been anybody else I’d have broken his nose, but I knew he had a thing for Harper. “Tell your old man hey from me. Let him know I’ll stop by this week for a visit.”
“Will do!” He said and he left the house.
I stared at Em from across the room while she shifted from side to side. I was certain my watching her was making her uncomfortable but it couldn’t be helped; I loved looking at her. She was even more beautiful pregnant than I could have imagined. She literally glowed. Who would have thought I’d believe that load of shit about women glowing while pregnant?
“So ummm… I’m going to go make dinner. You want anything in particular?”
“I’m fine with whatever you want to make. Do I have time to go for a run?”
“Yeah, it’ll be about an hour.”
I nodded and she turned and walked away. Why on earth did she look so nervous? I’d had to calm my growing erection when I caught her looking at me. Was that why she looked like she was ready to run away? I was hers if she wanted me. All she had to do was make the first move.
I went to my room and changed into some jogging pants and a t-shirt. I thought about telling her bye, but I didn’t want to make her more uncomfortable. I’d felt some growing sexual tension in the house, but I was sure it had to all be in my head. Saying that, I’d taken more than a few cold showers since living with her. It was all I could do; besides hiding in my writing studio and scribbling out some nonsensical words about a horny guy pining after a pregnant girl. Incidentally, I really should burn those in case Em found them. She’d think I was some pervert. I scrubbed my hands down my face and took off out the front door sprinting. Exercise was good. This another one of the few outlets I had to tire myself out. Oh who was I fucking kidding. I was a ball of sexual energy, and my Tiny Girl was the only one that could take care of it.
I ran four miles in record time, before returning to the house a sweaty mess. When I walked in the door I smelled seafood and something else wafting through the air. Taking off my shoes, I paused and listened when I thought I heard singing coming from the kitchen. I was going to go straight to the shower to clean up, but I needed to investigate the sound. When I rounded the corner I stopped dead in my tracks. Em was blasting her iPod on the surround sound and swaying her hips to the beat of the music. She was singing loudly with her back turned to me. What shocked me more than the beautiful sight before me was the music she was playing; it was mine. She was playing a Down Glory Road song that I’d written two years ago. I’d intended for it to be a slow love ballad, but the record company insisted it would sound better as an upbeat song and they’d been right. Em said she knew my work, but hearing her sing my lyrics and move her small body around the kitchen was the ultimate turn on. Fuck the four miles I’d just sweat through, I was energized and hard as a rock.