A Baby Affair (Parent Portal 2)

She put the fear of calling the clinic down to pregnancy hormones any time it overwhelmed her. Those were a great catchall. And a legitimate possible culprit.

They were the reason she was beginning to look forward to her rides with Craig so much. Why those rides were becoming the highlight of her weeks. Because of hormones.

She’d read that a side effect of pregnancy could be a woman craving sex more, figured that having that particular malady was better than having morning sickness, which had left her completely alone thus far.

And just like morning sickness did for other women, she knew her raging sex drive would soon disappear.

The last Sunday in February marked the sixth week of bike riding. They’d been taking longer, though still moderately paced, routes and that Sunday had predetermined to meet at an entrance to the private beach that Amelia’s condo had access to. From there they were biking along an ocean-view walkway that meandered for several miles, having been converted years before from a railroad track.

Craig had been getting more and more nervous about her biking on roads with vehicles, which had been his main reason for vetoing her suggestion that they ride along the cliff at the edge of town. She’d pointed out that if it wasn’t safe for her, it wasn’t safe for him, either, but the comment had kind of slithered off to the ether, where it most likely belonged.

His comment to her, while seeming personal, had, in actuality, been in line with their agreement. He’d been looking to the safety and well-being of the baby she carried. While her comment...it could only have been an expression of her concern for him.

Of course, human beings commonly expressed compassion or concern for perfect strangers. It was one of the beauties of being human—the oneness of the experience and the bonding of souls simply because they were of like species.

As always, she’d worn leggings and an oversized T-shirt for the ride, strapping her water bottle beneath her top and below her bump, which was becoming noticeable. She might not look pregnant yet to a stranger on the street, but to anyone who knew her, she’d definitely put on girth. Her weight gain, while a little below average for a woman at twenty weeks of pregnancy, was still within the acceptable range.

Craig had the bikes down and waiting by the time she approached. The sight of him in his usual bike shorts and a black spandex, short-sleeved top made her normal brain malfunction and she was suddenly seeing a vision of him standing there without clothes. Inviting her to do with him what she liked.

Oh, Lord, she liked...it all. Everything. His hands. His lips. His tongue. Him.

At least, in the vision that she quickly shoved away she did. In her mind and heart...she knew better.

It was hormones.

“You feeling okay?” His concerned expression got her all riled up again. Having this...this...man care...she kind of melted a little.

“Of course,” she told him. And wondered what he’d do if she blurted out that she was feeling flashes of desire over him. “I feel great.”

But not as great as his smile looked, or felt down to her core, when he poured it on her. It had only been two days since she’d seen the man—not months. She could not possibly be starved for the sight of him.

It was just the hormones.

* * *

She was wearing another damn, oversized T-shirt. Craig was starving for the sight of Amelia Grace carrying his child and he got a flowing T-shirt. How many of those things did she own?

Still, it gave him another dose of those femininely muscular and long legs. From there he allowed himself a quick glance at her face, which was expressive and intriguing because you never knew what it was going to show you next. And those eyes changed colors—from green to gold—based on what she was feeling, not necessarily what she was saying.

She wasn’t fine. Had looked away when he smiled at her, and her hand had jerked when he’d touched it with the bike handle. Something was bothering her.

And it wasn’t his to own. Or even borrow long enough to see if he could fix it.

So he got on his bike. Waited for her to mount hers. And started off down the paved path that was wide enough for two-way traffic, and for them to ride side by side. She started out behind him, anyway, and he was concentrating on the things that were in his circle of control. The use of the most expedient muscles for pedaling, the straightness of his back and the strength of his grip on the handlebars. He took in the ocean off to the distance on his right. Some of the people who were on the path with them. A couple of joggers. Three in-line skaters passing in the other direction.

Clouds blocked the sun that Sunday afternoon, making the seventy-three-degree temperature seem chillier, and laying a gray shadow over their surroundings, but he took in a breath of air that felt...alive. More alive than he’d been in a long time.

He slowed his pace a bit, meaning she’d either do so, as well, to stay behind him, or ride up to join him. Choice was hers.

“How’s Talley doing?” she asked as she joined him.

“Great.” He gave her a quick smile so she’d know she was welcome beside him. That the conversation was welcome. Thursday’s ride had been through city neighborhoods and they’d passed the vet. He’d told her all about his dog, that Talley had an appointment there the next day to have her numbers run again, one more time, just to see where they were at. “Everything’s within normal range.” Sugars, most importantly—that meant the pancreas was doing its job again.

“Oh, thank goodness.” The emotion in her tone was startling. She’d been worried about his dog? Was she an animal lover, then?

“Does your condo association allow pets?” he asked her. He hadn’t noticed a pet park or dog-walking area when he’d been there.

“Yes,” she told him. “That was a must for me.”