A small laugh, a little nibble, and I have to carry her inside for more.
Chapter 8: No Ghosts
Melissa
For once I’m awake before Derek. This silly pregnancy is about to drive me crazy with all the exhaustion and the weight gain and the hormones, and now this morning I can’t sleep.
Okay, the hormones aren’t so bad. If we hadn’t started out sharing some pretty hot moments, I’d say we were setting the bar on being insatiable teenagers. A little laugh pushes through my throat as I lie on my side watching him sleep. He’s so gorgeous, and I won’t lie, this surge of protectiveness he’s displaying is incredibly sexy.
I’ve managed to wiggle out of his embrace—it always takes me forever to get used to sleeping alone after he’s been here. He holds me so close against him all night. Now I’m facing him, studying his relaxed profile, small nose, full lips. The first flecks of grey are appearing in his dark beard. It’s so few, I can almost count them, and they make him even more attractive in my eyes.
Lifting my hand quietly so I don’t wake him, I lightly move a dark wave off his eyes. He’ll start complaining about needing a haircut if he stays with me much longer. Just then his violet-blue eyes blink open, and my insides flood with the most amazing sensation—my friend, my lover, my savior… the father of my child.
“I love you,” I whisper.
He leans forward to kiss my forehead before pushing up on his elbow to reach the bottle of water on his nightstand. “You’re awake early.”
I span his large bicep with my hand. “You haven’t been working out as much.”
His head ducks with a laugh. “Are you saying I’m out of shape?”
“Of course not!” I dive into him. “You’re perfect! I just… I don’t want you to be unhappy spending so much time with me. I’m messing up your routine.”
His arms go around me, and I’m propped on his chest, looking into his eyes. “Darling, I’d give up any routine to have this time with you.”
“I love it when your New Orleans comes out.”
“I have another thing that would like to come out.”
“Is that so?” Scooting my hips in line with his, I slide myself down, onto his morning wood. His head drops back and his eyes close with a groan.
Nibbling the base of his neck, my voice is thick now. “I can take care of that situation.”
Minutes later, we’re panting and sweaty and so satisfied…
Except I’m hungry.
I’m on my back now, and he’s kissing the line of my collarbone as I think. “Remember that place that didn’t have the Applewood smoked bacon?”
He chuckles, still inside me. “The Sawmill?”
“You have a very good memory. Much better than mine these days.” I push against his shoulder and he rolls back. “Give me a second to get cleaned up, and we can go get some breakfast.”
Hopping out of the bed, I skip over to the bathroom. He’s lying on his side, elbow bent, head resting on his hand, and I can’t help it. I run back over to kiss his lips, but I scoot away before he can catch me again. We’ll never leave the bedroom if that happens.
“I think you’re starting to show,” he calls after me.
I stop before getting in the shower and turn to the side, looking in the mirror. I think he’s right. Finally, my stomach is starting to round out a bit. Smoothing my hands over the small bump, I’m so happy.
“You’re right,” I call back, before stepping into the stall.
In no time, I’m showered and fresh, and we’re heading out the door to the old restaurant designed to look like a lumberjack’s shop. Tools of the trade hang on the wood-paneled walls, and the menus have pictures of all the selections in them.
“I know you appreciate our fine dining options here.” I can’t help teasing his refined palate. “But I truly love their breakfast.”
A waitress appears. She’s in her fifties, and her hair’s piled in a bun on her head.
“Hey, Melissa. Haven’t seen you in a while.” She smacks gum as she waits for our order—no notepad required.