Page 112 of Rebel Heart
“Yes, you do. Is that a bad thing?” I asked, needing to gauge where the conversation was heading.
Jules stroked her hand over the baby bump and shared, “Obviously, I don’t want this baby coming out before he or she is ready, but we’re two weeks away from Thanksgiving, which means that Christmas is close.”
I squinted as I tried to determine what any of this had to do with the look I’d just seen on her face. I couldn’t come up with anything. “I’m afraid I’m not following you. What does that mean?”
She inhaled deeply and let out a long breath. “It means that while I love this time of year for a multitude of reasons, I work in a bakery. And that’s not normally a bad thing. But you know that I have seasonal items out right now.”
I absolutely did.
It was one of my favorite things about the last few weeks.
Of course, I was a man of simple pleasures. But after what had happened to land Jules in the hospital weeks ago, I had a much deeper appreciation for everything she did and brought into my life.
The delicious breads, cakes, cookies, and muffins she brought home from the bakery every night were near the top of that list.
“I’m aware of those items,” I assured her. “Weeks ago, you were excited about being able to put them back on the menu for a while.”
Nodding, she confirmed, “I was. The problem is that I keep having treats with you every night.”
“You barely have one,” I noted, recalling how I often ate all of whatever she brought me and whatever she didn’t finish of hers. “And what’s the problem with that, anyway?”
She groaned. “Christmas is coming.”
“You said that already. I still don’t understand what it means.”
Her eyes dropped to her belly, her hands now hanging limp at her sides. “Every year we host a huge Christmas party at Westwood’s.”
I blinked in surprise. “I had no idea. Do you not like attending?”
“I do. I love it. We always have such a great time.”
“Are you worried that I might not want to attend?”
Her head snapped up. “Oh, don’t tell me you don’t. I can’t handle that, too.”
A laugh escaped. “I’ll go anywhere you want me togo, my angel. I’m trying to figure out why you seem to be so frustrated about this party.”
“It’s formal, and I have to wear a dress.”
My brows shot up, silently questioning her, because that response did little to clarify anything.
She let out another growl of frustration and turned toward the mirror. “I don’t know what I’m going to wear. Even if I could find something that fits me now, which is very unlikely, in another month or so, I’m going to be even bigger. I really need to stop having desserts every night.”
And with that admission, I pushed off the door frame and entered the bathroom. I walked up behind my wife, placed my hands on her upper arms, and kissed the skin where her neck met her shoulder.
“You are exquisite.” I kissed her again, my hands drifting down her arms to her wrists before gliding back up to her shoulders. I ran them down her back and along her spine, feeling her body shiver beneath my touch. Then I grabbed her ass in my hands and squeezed, meeting her eyes in the mirror. “There isn’t any part of you I don’t find wildly seductive.”
Jules tipped her head to the side and shot me a look of disbelief. “I’m pretty sure it’s part of your job as my husband to say something like that to me so I don’t feel bad.”
“Perhaps.” My hands moved to her hips and traveled up her sides, my fingertips a whisper-soft touch on her delicate skin. “But that doesn’t mean it’s not true.”
I made it to the band of her bra, traced it to the clasp in the back, and unhooked it. After sliding it down her arms and dropping it to the counter in front of her, my hands cupped her breasts, massaging the flesh in my hands and swiping my thumbs over her perfect, rosy nipples.
“Beau,” she moaned.
“You’re beautiful, Jules,” I said softly, paying just a bit more attention to her sensitive nipples. When I released her breasts, my hands went to her belly. As I brushed my hands along the skin there, I shared, “This has become one of my favorite things about your body. To witness this sacrifice you’re making to grow, nurture, and protect this baby,our baby,is the biggest turn-on. I take one look at you, and I have to fight the urge to get down on my knees and worship every part of you. So, don’t you believe for one second that you’re anything less than stunning. And don’t you dare take away one of my favorite parts of my day.”
“Your favorite part of the day?”
