Page 126 of Pucking the Enemy

“Hey, Peanut, stop hurting your mama,” Phillip scolded my belly lightly, his hand resting on either side of my bump as he spoke to it.

“He’s not the size of a peanut anymore,” Roman commented. “He’s the size of a whole peanut tree!”

I frowned. “Peanuts don’t grow on trees.”

“They don’t?” Roman asked dumbly.

“They’re from the ground, like potatoes,” Phillip said.

That was a semi-decent explanation, so I just nodded. “Anyway,” I turned to look at Roman. “Are you saying I look like I’m carrying a tree in my stomach?”

“No! Not at all. You look beautiful, perfect, and sexy. Most of all, you look like mine.” He beamed, pulling me in for a hug. I grumbled, even as I snuggled into his side.

“Can we get tacos and Chinese food tonight?” I asked in a grumpy voice.

Roman laughed, kissing the top of my head as Phillip grimaced at the idea of such a combination. “Anything you want, Duchess.”

“Maybe we can add in a vegetable?” my sometimes too-responsible mate suggested.

I pursued my lips in thought. “Beef and broccoli counts, surely? Or cilantro on a taco? Wait, tacos have lettuce!” I declared triumphantly.

Phillip opened his mouth to speak, but clearly thought better of it, shaking his head and giving me a good-natured smile. “It counts.”

Studying wasn’t going to happen.

With a sigh, I slammed my laptop shut, pinching the bridge of my nose.

“Everything okay?” Phillip asked, putting down his tablet he had been reading on.

“I can’t concentrate. Peanut won’t stop moving, and I’m uncomfortable, no matter what I do,” I grumbled. My paper wasn’t due for two weeks, but the sooner I got it done, the better, considering I was weeks away from having a newborn dependent on me for everything.

“Here.” Phillip took the laptop away, placing it on the small coffee table before grabbing my sock-covered feet and lifting them into his lap. He gently tugged off each sock.

“What are you—oh!” My words were cut off when he dug his finger into the arch of my foot. “Carry on…” I trailed off in a blissed-out voice.

Phillip chuckled, but went to work giving me possibly the best damn foot rub of my life. My feet had been swollen lately and were constantly sore. My ankles were retaining so much water, I could probably open an aquarium.

“Can you quit studying and hockey and just rub my feet all day?” I asked in a dreamy voice.

“If you want, but I think you’ll get sick of me after a few days.”

“Not if your hands are doing this,” I muttered, making him laugh.

“You need to be resting more. I’ll give you a lower back rub tonight, okay?”

“Stop saying such sexy things, Phillip. Soon, I’ll be able to rest more. One more paper, and then I can just be a potato for the next month until the peanut makes an appearance,” I assured him.

“How about I run you a bath? By the time you’re done, Roman will have dinner.”

“I thought baths were a no-no when pregnant?” I could have sworn I had read that somewhere.

“According to the baby books, they’re fine if they’re not too hot.”

I frowned. “What’s the point of a bath if it’s not hot enough to scald your skin off?”

Phillip laughed, shaking his head. “It may help with your hip pain?”

“Fine! Let’s do it,” I groaned. It wouldn’t feel as good as a hot bath, but it would do. “After a few more minutes of this,” I said, looking down at where he was massaging my feet. The hip pain hadn’t been pleasant, but if it meant my body was loosening up for birth, I was grateful.

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