Page 89 of Where We Promise

“Holy shit.”

Beaming, I reached over and retrieved his hand. “Come back, he’s still kicking.”

Jameson came closer, his warm palm sliding over my skin, shifting in all different places. The baby kicked a few more times, and then Jamie leaned down and pressed his cheek there.

“Hey little guy, you in there?”

My eyes burned with happy tears as I slid my hands into Jameson’s hair while his face remained against my belly.

“We can’t wait to meet you…you’ll have to help us settle the debate on what to name you. I think Connor is a pretty cool name, but your mom likes Cruise. I personally think in twenty years, you’ll really hate your life if everyone is calling you Cruise King. It’s horrible.”

I started laughing, which made my son kick again. Jameson peered up at me with a smile that couldn’t be matched. I had never seen him so happy.

“I want to be in there with you…”

My chest felt as though it grew wings, ones large enough to fly past the moon, and strong enough to withstand the sun. Fat, hot tears slid down my face, sticking to my lashes as Jameson continued, unaware that he’d rendered me speechless.

“When he comes into the world, if you’re okay with it—I mean, it’s okay if you’re not, I?—”

A rasped whisper rushed through my lips, cutting him off, “I love you, Jamie.”

Oh my god, I’d just said that out loud. My face burned red as Jamie just sat up, his mouth gaping, staring at me.

“You don’t have to say it back!” I yelled, then covered my face with my hands. I was never going to live this down.

I didn’t dare look to see what Jamie was doing. “It’s just the hormones, the pregnancy…it’s—I’m not myself. So, please don’t make a big thing of it, okay?”

I still refused to look at him, but I felt him move. He slid over to his side of the bed, letting out a tiny laugh. “Got it, Pen. You’re good.”

My hands slowly came down, my face still burned.

Tiny pricks of sorrow pierced my chest, but I ignored them. It wasn’t enough that this man guilt married me, or that I had to beg him to fuck me to make it official, now I was thrusting the L word onto him. Jesus.

I needed to give him a little space.

Leaving my phone behind, I grabbed my pregnancy book and slipped out of bed.

“I’m just going to go read for a bit in the living room.”

Jameson didn’t move from where he was turned toward the wall, but I saw his hand come up in a gesture that he’d heard me. I clicked off my light, left my cell plugged in and abandoned ship, seeking refuge on the salmon-colored couch. I shut the door behind me, so the lamp wouldn’t wake Jamie, and then I sat there and read the same passage of text at least thirty times before I finally gave up and fell asleep.

I needed a girls’ night.

After I woke up on the couch, sore and cold, regardless of our quilt being tucked in around me. I took a nice hot shower and decidedly chose not to notice that Jameson hadn’t woke me. The coffee was still warm in the pot, so he had to have woken up earlier, and how I didn’t hear him while sleeping on the couch, or feel him tuck the blanket around my body, bothered me. Someone could likely sneak in and murder me, and I’d never even know.

When I walked outside, I finally found my husband. He was installing the car seat into his truck. I glanced at the space next to his truck, seeing his bike, but my Camry was gone.

“Where’s my car?”

Jameson’s head poked out from the back door, his light hair all disheveled and messy, the way I liked it.

“About that…”

I spun back toward the empty space where my car was usually parked. “About what? Where is it?”

“Gone,” he muttered, and then pulled his cell out.

“Jamie, I need a car…”

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