Page 94 of Tangled Desires

33

36 weeks – August

Forever Like That - Ben Rector

Igive myself a once-over in the mirror, adjusting the flowy white maxi dress that clings a little too snug around my thirty-six-week bump. I tuck a loose strand of hair behind my ear, the white ribbon tied in my braid adding a little extra touch. Always. Sneakers laced, jacket on—I’m as ready as I’ll ever be. Harrison said five minutes. It’s been exactly five. When I step outside, he pulls up, stepping out with that effortless swagger—backward cap, black hoodie stretching across broad shoulders, and jeansthat sit just right. The crisp air bites, but with him standing there, hands stuffed in his pockets, I’m more than warm.

“Hey, sugar,” he greets, pulling me in, his lips brushing mine before his hands slide lower, giving my ass a quick squeeze. I swat at him, laughing.

“Hey, handsome.” The words come out breathless—not sure if it’s him or the pregnancy. I slide into the passenger seat, and the car roars to life. The vibrations hum through me, but the nausea, thankfully, stays quiet. When I glance over, he’s already watching me, eyes darker, more intense.

The sun’s just starting to dip, and oh, have I failed to mention what this man has pulled off? Where are my manners? This man is sitting by the creek with a whole fucking picnic set up. He’s completely outdone himself—Blankets laid out like we’re about to start a camping trip, cushions fluffed up to perfection, and all my recent cravings spread out like he’s some kind of psychic. Three kinds of pasta, peach hearts, and a bottle of Charlie’s Quencher lemonade.

Then again, who am I kidding? I don’t have any manners.

He leans down for a kiss, his thumb brushing over my cheek. “Ready to relax?”

I sigh. “More than ready.” He helps me settle down onto the blanket, fussing to get me comfortable with pillows all around me.

As he starts unpacking, handing me a bowl of pasta and lemonade, I look around—taking in the creek, the breeze, the trees. And then I catch his gaze. The way he’s looking at me like I’m everything. That’s when the lump in my throat shows up, and I blink, trying to will it away.

Of course, he notices immediately. His brows knit together as he rests a hand on my shoulder. “Hey, what’s wrong? Everything okay? Did I forget something?” He’s practically panicking, and it just makes me love him more.

I shake my head, laughing through the welling tears. “No, it’s perfect. Really perfect. I’m just… you’re so damn thoughtful, Harrison. Sometimes it just… gets to me.” The lump in my throat is too much. “I love you.”

Relief sweeps over his face, and that smile of his makes my chest tighten in the best way. He leans in, brushing his lips against mine. “You know,” I murmur against his mouth, “I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I’m so grateful I get to do all this with you.” My hand slides down to rest on my belly, the life growing there a reminder of everything we’re about to start.

“I’m glad you feel that way, Immy-girl,” he whispers against my lips, before pulling back slightly, his gaze landing on the curve of my stomach. He rests a hand there, gently, and I cover it with my own. “Because I love you more than I know how to say. And I can’t imagine doing this with anyone else.”

I lean in, swallowing hard. “We’re in for a wild ride, I reckon.”

“You saying you’re stuck with me for good?” He pulls back, wiggling his brows in that annoyingly cute way.

“Looks that way.”

“Good. ‘Cause you two are it for me.”

“Don’t get too cocky now, Price.” I raise a brow. “You’ve still got a lifetime to prove you can handle both of us.”

“Oh, I can handle you,” he shoots back, pulling me close. “And this little bean is getting the best mum around.” He places a protective hand on my belly.

“Flattery won’t get you anywhere.”

“Oh, I know.” He grins like a fool, his eyes lighting up. “Can’t help it. It’s kinda my thing, right?”

“Lucky for you, I’m getting used to it.”

“Getting used to it?” He laughs, and belly does a little flip. “We’re having a kid together, woman—you should be well past ‘used to it’ by now!”

“Don’t push it, or you’ll be sleeping by this creek tonight.”

“You’d miss me too much,” he snorts, pressing a kiss to my temple. And he’s damn well right. He reaches for the bag of peach hearts with a mischievous glint in his eye, the troublemaker.

“So, are you grateful enough to share the snacks?”

I roll my eyes, plucking one out of the bag and holding it up. “Only if you beg, Harrison.”

“Please, dear mother of my future offspring, the most stunning woman in all of Wattle Creek, the keeper of my heart and all my peach-flavoured lollies—”

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