Page 11 of Curvy Girl and the Ex-Military Firefighter

"Actually," Max's voice cuts through my spiral, sharp and firm, "I think Emma's curves are perfect."

I glance up at him, surprised by the edge in his tone.

"Oh, I didn't mean—" Aunt Linda starts, but Max isn't finished.

"Emma is the most beautiful woman I've ever seen," he continues, turning to face me fully. "And she'll be beautiful at any size."

The intensity in his green eyes makes my breath catch. It's like he knows exactly what I'm thinking and worried about.

But doubt creeps in anyway. Sure, he says that now, but what about when I'm waddling around with swollen ankles? When none of my clothes fit? When I look nothing like the women who stop by the fire station to flirt with him?

"Emma?" Uncle Jack's voice breaks through my thoughts. "You've gone pale."

"I need some air," I mumble, pushing back from the table.

The chair scrapes loudly against the floor as I stand.

"But we haven't even had dessert!" Aunt Linda protests.

I barely hear her. I'm already heading for the back door, desperate to escape before I completely fall apart. Behind me, I hear Max making some excuse about checking on me, but all I can think about is how everything is changing – including my body – and how terrified I am that he'll realize he's made a mistake.

Chapter 6 - Max

I find Emma in her aunt's garden, surrounded by roses and looking like she might shatter at any moment. My chest tightens at the sight of her wiping tears away.

"Hey," I say softly, closing the distance between us. "Want to get out of here?"

She turns to face me, mascara smudged under her eyes.

"What about lunch?"

"Screw lunch." I step closer, cupping her face in my hands. "Your aunt's comments were out of line, and you look like you're about to throw up that toast from earlier."

A weak laugh escapes her. "That obvious, huh?"

I brush a tear from her cheek with my thumb. My hands are steady now, even though my insides still feel like a five-alarm fire.

Because this? This I'm sure about.

"Listen to me," I say, making sure she meets my eyes. "I'm terrified about being a father. I have no idea what I'm doing. But I know three things for certain."

She sniffles. "What things?"

"One: I love you. Have since that Christmas Festival, and that's not changing." I take a deep breath. "Two: This baby? Our baby? That's not a mistake. It's unexpected, sure, but not unwanted."

Her hands come up to grip my wrists. "And three?"

"Three: You're beautiful. Right now, when you're showing, after the baby comes – always. And anyone who says different can fight me."

A real laugh this time. "You'd fight my aunt?"

"I'd fight anyone for you." I glance back at the house. "Now, can we please get out of here? I'd rather spend the day figuring out our future than listening to more backhanded comments about your perfect body."

Emma wraps her arms around my waist, though they barely meet behind my back. Her face presses against my chest, and I can feel her tears dampening my suit.

"In a few months," she mumbles against the fabric, "I won't even be able to reach around you."

I chuckle, pressing a kiss to the top of her head.

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