Page 16 of Saving Their Forever

As if she heard me talking about her, Pixel runs into the room. She drops down to her haunches in front of Ry, and her tail thumps against the rug so quickly, it’s practically a blur.

“No, fur ball. You are not going out right now,” he says. “You’ll wait for Rip to come up in an hour.”

“Take her. I’m fine. She hates sharing her walks with Charlie. He gets the best trees.”

Ry stares at me for a long moment. “If you’re sure…”

“You’ll be gone fifteen minutes. Even if my water breaks, the baby won’t come that quickly.” I settle back on the couch and eye the smoothie glass.

“Okay, pipsqueak,” he says. “Get your leash.” Pixel runs to the door, noses her leash out of the toy basket, and drags it over to him. “But we are not dawdling. Understand?”

* * *

Ryker slips back into the condo with Pixel trotting ahead of him like she just won the lottery. And she has, because he gave her a fancy new chew toy. He started buying them when I moved in with him, hides them, and brings them out at the oddest times.

“Who’s a good girl?” I ask when she brings me the toy and drops it at my feet. “You’re going to have to pick that up all on your own, sweet pea. Mama can’t bend over right now. Maybe in another week or so, that’ll change.”

“Maybe?” Ry asks. “You don’t think you’ll still be pregnant in a week, do you?”

“No, but my stomach doesn’t magically deflate when I give birth.” I offer him a weak smile. “It might be months before I fit into my pre-pregnancy clothes.”

The concern in his eyes touches me. “It’s fine. But even after everything’s…back the way it’s supposed to be, I’m going to look different. My boobs won’t ever be the same.”

“Your breasts are perfect. Absolutely perfect.” He cups one of them, dragging his thumb over my nipple.

“Fudgesicles,” I moan with a shudder. “I’ve never been this sensitive. If I didn’t have a doctor’s appointment this afternoon, I’d say we get naked. Right now.”

“We don’t have to be at the medical center for two hours.” He scoops me into his arms and carries me into the bedroom. “We have time.”

“Ryker McCabe. Put me down right now!” I slap at his back, but it does me no good. Not that I want it to. The idea of one last roll in the sheets before the baby comes is more appealing than I can put into words. Who knows how long it’s going to take before my body is ready to have sex again. Or my emotions.

Exhaustion. Worry. The idea of sex with a baby in the next room… At least we have a third bedroom now—one on the other side of the condo.

Ry lays me on the bed and shifts my long, blue maxi dress up my thighs.

I shiver, my nipples tight under my bra. Arousal floods my core. His black pants strain over his dick, and I unbuckle his belt. “Strip, soldier. I want you naked.”

His black t-shirt falls to the floor. I’ll never get tired of looking at him. At the ridges of muscles. The evidence of his strength over fifteen months of torture. His scars are a part of him. Some deep, some shallow—but no less painful. He remembers all of them. Every cut. Every burn. Every bone broken and set. But all that pain led him to me. Led us to this moment when we’re about to start a family neither of us thought we’d ever have.

His pants are next. Black briefs can’t hide the outline of his need. His thighs are as big as two of mine, and the veins…I could stare at him all day.

“Like what you see, sweetheart?” he rumbles.

“Oh, very much. But you’re not naked yet. I’m not thrilled about that bit.”

“Neither are you.”

“True, but I’m on my back with a twenty-pound beach ball on my stomach. A little help?”

In a heartbeat, he’s on top of me. Undoing the buttons so I’m left in only my bra and very unflattering maternity panties. I can’t stifle my cringe fast enough.

“You,” he says, dropping to his knees next to the bed, “are fucking perfect.” His hands smooth over my belly, down my hips, and along my thighs. “I love you, Wren. No matter what size you are.”

“You’re just saying that to get into my very large underwear,” I tease. But there’s a kernel of truth—or sadness—in my tone I can’t wipe away. No matter how much or how deeply I believe him.

“I’m saying it because it’s true. Because I’m in awe of you, sweetheart.” His lips skim my belly, then move higher until he closes his teeth over one of my nipples through the cotton bra. The sensation rockets my arousal up to a million, and I writhe on the bed, arching my back—as much as I can being this huge.

He cups my other breast, and as his thumb keeps time with his lips and tongue, I think maybe I could come from this alone.

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