Page 13 of Maybe My Baby

When Donovan roused her, half an hour had passed. “I’ll put this stuff in the car and come back for you.”

“Will you get the chicken soup and soft drinks out of the fridge? And a big box of soda crackers in the pantry?”

“Of course.” He touched her arm. “I’ll be right back.”

She fell asleep again. When Donovan woke her this time, the worried look was back in his eyes. “Should we take you to a walk-in clinic?”

“No. I’m only sleepy because I was up so much in the wee hours. I’m fine, Donovan. Honestly.”

She could tell he wasn’t convinced. The crazy man wanted to carry her down two flights of stairs. But Ginny was adamant. “I can do this.”

Despite her protests, by the time they made it back to Donovan’s house, she was almost too tired to take a shower. But she also wanted to be clean. While her host unloaded his own luggage from the car, Ginny showered and changed into a pair of soft cotton sleep shorts and a T-shirt.

When Donovan found her in the bedroom, his expression sharpened, his eyes flashing a sensual heat she recognized. “I do love the sight of you in my bed, Sunshine.” He stopped, an arrested look on his face. “Is this why you acted so weird when I suggested moving in with me? Because of the pregnancy?”

She raised up on one elbow. “Well, duh. I couldn’t very well say yes when you didn’t know the whole truth. I was just getting used to the idea myself. Besides, I...”

He sat down on the edge of the bed. “Besides, what?”

Ginny chewed her bottom lip. “I didn’t want you to feel trapped into anything.”

“Silly woman.” The description was delivered with such a look of affection, it was hard to be insulted. He sobered. “Are you okay, Gin? Mentally, I mean. Do you want this pregnancy? This baby?”

She exhaled, staring past him at a painting on the wall. It was her work. A night scene of a mountain and a tree and a crescent moon done in oils. She had given it to him on his birthday a few months ago. Donovan had gotten choked up when he opened it.

Ginny had been touched by his genuine pleasure.

“If you had asked me even six weeks ago if I wanted to have a baby,” she said, “I would have told you absolutely not. At least not right now. But it’s weird, Donovan. At first, I was completely panicked—and I guess I still am—but once it slowly began to seem real, my whole worldview changed. I’m growing an actual human being. How is that even possible?” Her throat tightened, and tears spilled over her lashes.

He caught one on his fingertip. Then he leaned down and kissed her. “You have a few days’ head start on me getting used to the idea,” he said, “but I’m catching up. Babies are magical gifts. Not easy. Never that. But nothing worth having comes without effort. It’s going to be okay, Sunshine, I swear. I’ll be by your side every step of the way.”

Her jaw wobbled. “Thank you.”

He rolled to his feet and stared down at her. “Do you want a small snack?”

She shuddered. “No.”

“Do you want to watch a movie?”

“I probably will, but I’m sure you need to catch up on work, especially since you’ve been away a couple of days. Go. Do whatever you would normally do on a night like this. I’m comfy, I swear.”

“So you’ll be okay if I hang out in the shop for a little while? I have my phone in my pocket.”

“I won’t even miss you.”

Ginny fell asleep at some point during the evening. She roused only briefly when a warm, damp, yummy-smelling Donovan climbed into bed and spooned her. It felt amazing.

The next time she awoke, it wasn’t so pleasant. She bolted out of bed and barely made it to the bathroom. How was it possible to throw up when she had hardly eaten anything?

Behind her, the hall light clicked on. She should have been embarrassed for Donovan to see her like this. But having him awake and keeping watch comforted her in ways she couldn’t even explain.

She was sick twice more in the span of fifteen minutes. Then things seemed to settle down.

Through it all, Donovan held her hair back and crouched beside her. When it was over, he wiped her face with a wet cloth and, when she asked, found her toothbrush. The peppermint toothpaste almost made her sick again, but she took deep breaths and willed the nausea into submission.

“What time is it?” she whispered.

“Almost six.”

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