"May I?" Mom asks, and there is no mistaking what Mom means by her question.
Poppy squeezes my hand and moves into my side, which my parents' notice. Dad frowns, and Mom stills.
I turn my gaze toward Poppy, and I see tears hovering in her eyes. "Hey, it's okay." I brush the loose tears away with my thumb.
“I’m sorry, Mrs. McKenzie—” she meets my gaze, “—I’m hesitant because Jaxon hasn’t felt our baby moving yet.” Turning back to my parents, she adds, “I’ll be more than happy for you to feel your grandchild later.”
Overcome with emotion, I drop my forehead to hers and kiss the tip of her nose.
“That’s so sweet,” Mom says, hands over her heart. “Our son is an amazing young man, Poppy, and I’m so glad he’s found you again. No mother likes seeing her son upset.” She pats Poppy on the hand. “Jaxon, why don’t you show Poppy upstairs and I’ll make some tea and cakes. Ready in an hour.” Mom flutters off, leaving a smirk on Dad’s face.
“I hope she isn’t offended?” Poppy asks, her chin wobbling.
“She isn’t.” Dad grins. “Better do as your mother suggested.” He follows Mom.
With a slight tug, I lead Poppy upstairs while wondering what she thinks of my home and my parents. It should feel strange having a woman here. However, I like Poppy being with me, which is why I lead her to my room, cringing as I catch sight of the unmade bed. "I was eager to get going this morning." I shrug. "I hope you don't mind sharing with me. I want you close. Make sure you don't disappear on me again," I quietly admit.
"I'm not going to disappear, Jaxon. I promise." Poppy moves further into the room and slowly turns around. "Won't your parents have something to say about me sharing a room with you?"
“I don’t need my parents’ permission to share a room. I’m a grown man, Poppy, in case you hadn’t noticed.”
She laughs. “Oh, I noticed.”
Her amusement is so spontaneous that I feel the barrier that had me hesitant with her break. Keeping my eyes focused on her, I close the distance. She watches me warily. However, her eyes become heated when I place my hands on her hips and slowly move her backward until she's sitting on the end.
I kneel at her feet and ask softly, "Did you mean what you said about touching our baby?"
Tentatively, she reaches out and caresses the side of my face. I do the most natural thing in the world and turn into her touch. “I meant it. Not even David has touched my stomach.”
Nodding slowly, I swallow hard when Poppy takes my hand and presses it against the swell of her belly. I feel a slight movement against the palm of my hand and lift my surprised gaze to Poppy's. "She's moving."
“It could be a boy.”
Shaking my head, I place my other hand on her belly and move them around, enjoying the feeling of touching her. “I don’t care what we’re having, as long as both you and our baby are okay.” I dip my head, not wanting her to see the emotion in my eyes.
She takes my breath away, and with so many emotions going through my body, the last thing I want to do is scare her away.
Her hands cover mine on her body. “Would your mom mind if I lie down for a bit?”
“Are you okay?”
“I didn’t sleep well last night.”
Smiling, I move toward the closet. "Let me change the bed, and then you rest for as long as you want to."
Shaking her head, Poppy moves closer. “The bed is okay.” She kicks her shoes off while holding my gaze, a teas
ing glint appearing in hers. Her hands reach for her blouse and slowly start to open the buttons revealing smooth skin.
I’m disappointed she has a stretchy thing beneath her shirt. It doesn't hide how swollen her breasts are and, she laughs when I stare.
“It’s the pregnancy.” Tossing her shirt to the chair beside the bed, she slips out of the navy leggings.
Swallowing hard, I nervously usher her into my bed and cover her with the quilt. When she smiles and pats the space beside her, I don’t wait.
I kick my shoes off and staying on top of the quilt, lie beside her.
She's beautiful, with her dark hair spread out on my pillow. I've often wondered over these few months about how she'd look in my bed—the real thing is so much hotter.