Page 70 of Loki

“You alright, love?”

Val swallowed hard. “Yup.” She flushed the toilet and shoved the stick in her pocket before washing her hands and opening the door.

“Still sick?” He brushed her forehead.

Val shook her head.

“You sure? You feel kind of clammy.”

She swatted his hand away. “I’m fine.” She stomped to their lush bed and crawled back under the covers as her stomach gurgled.

A minute passed, and the bed dipped as Loki curled up behind her and put an arm around her.

“Signe, what did I do to irritate you now? Tell me, and I’ll apologize.”

Val snorted.Right. How did you apologize for getting someone pregnant?

She blew out a breath. “It’s nothing. I’m fine.”

Pregnant.She was pregnant.

“Why do you bother lying to me? You know I can tell.”

“Because I am hoping you will take the hint and leave me alone.”

His body stiffened, and his arm slid from around her.

“Sorry,” she mumbled. “I’m just... tired.”

Loki kissed her head. “I have some meetings, but I’ll be back in a while. Are you going to the Raven Weaver today?”

She shook her head. Ever since she’d started living with Loki, she’d spent less time working at the bar and more time redecorating their house.

Loki told her to do whatever she wanted with the place, so she had. And to her surprise, she was quite talented. She had a flare for patterns and textiles, and colors. One she’d never known she had. In the past year, their house had gone from stark white modern to a warm, posh, inviting environment. Even Loki had remarked on how much he enjoyed the new style.

“What time will you be back?”

Loki smiled. “I’ll bring lunch.”

She rolled over. “Chinese?”

“Of course.” He headed for the bedroom door.

“And some garlic bread from Santo’s?”

He smiled. “Sure.”

“And a carrot cake from Butternut Bakery?”

Loki stared at her. “Are you sure you’re up to eating all that? You haven’t been able to keep much down for a week.”

She shrugged. “I’ll pace myself.”

He chuckled. “It’s your funeral. Be back in a while.”

Val lay in bed and waited for what she knew would come next.

Every day since she’d moved in, he’d gone through the same routine. He’d gotten up. Showered. Dressed. Got ready for work and stopped at the outer door to ask her the same question.

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