“Hey,” I say, instead of leading with where have you been like I have the urge to.

She gives me a quick smile when she climbs out, leaning over the seat to grab her purse.

“Want to help me with the groceries?”

I breathe a sigh of relief, still feeling a little overprotective and annoyed that she left the house without letting me know. I’m not a possessive psycho, but the woman has been working from home. She has her groceries delivered to her front porch because she just doesn’t want to leave the house. It’s weird to see her in normal clothes with a little makeup on. She’s always braless—something I am not complaining about—curled up on the couch.

“Let me get those,” I tell her, ignoring her huff of irritation as I reach over her for the grocery bags in the back seat. “Didn’t feel like having them delivered this time?”

“I had a doctor appointment. Just grabbed a few things from the store after.”

I freeze, the straps of her canvas bags digging into my palms at her nonchalant confession.

“A doctor appointment? Are you feeling unwell?”

“More than usual?” She huffs. “No, it was a scheduled checkup.”

“Like a yearly exam or something?” I ask, trying not to let irritation drip into my tone.

I know what she’s saying, but I need to make sure because surely, she isn’t that damn inconsiderate.

“It was my first appointment with the obstetrician.”

I follow her to the front door, arms weighed down with the grocery bags. I place them on the dining room table before turning back to the door.

“Are you leaving?”

I freeze halfway to the front door. I promised myself I wouldn’t hound her about the baby and the role I feel like I should play in the entire situation. I wanted her to get used to the idea of me being around, to accept that I’m here for her and the baby before I pressed my luck, but there’s just something about hearing that she went to the doctor for the purpose of my child growing inside of her and it didn’t even warrant a mention.

“I’ve got to go get dinner out of the truck,” I mutter before forcing my feet to move in that direction.

I take long breaths all the way to my truck, but my irritation doesn’t subside. I have to spend a few minutes, standing in the open door, trying to calm myself down before heading back into the house.

“Are you mad about something?” she asks after we step around each other, putting groceries up.

I shake my head. “Long day at work.”

I hate lying to her but getting upset will get me absolutely nowhere. I know her well enough to know this to be true.

We fix our plates, and I do my best to be the happy-go-lucky guy I always am around her, but even I can tell my mood is shitty.

“I wouldn’t mind going to those appointments with you,” I say after we sit on the couch and the television is on.

She doesn’t pull her eyes from the television as she speaks. “It’s not really a big deal. They just ask a bunch of questions, do bloodwork, and listen for the heartbeat and stuff.”

I lower my fork to my plate as calmly as I can, all the while feeling like I just got trampled by a herd of wild elephants. I’m gutted.

“Was it strong?”

She smiles, as if remembering the second she first heard it, and it hurts me even more.

“So strong, and it was fast. Much faster than you would think.”

Is she selfish or does she just not take me into consideration for these things?

“Any pictures?”

“Pictures?” She turns her face to look at me. “I didn’t have a sonogram. That’s not scheduled for a while.”

“I’d like to go to that,” I say, hardening myself for the argument I’ll most likely get from her.

She swallows, and I know she can read my mood.

“Okay,” she whispers. “I can text you the information so you can put it in your calendar.”

“Thank you,” I tell her, turning my attention back to the television.

My mood lightens a little because I refuse to focus on the fact that she never would’ve offered had I not brought it up.

I have to keep my plan cycling through my head because there’s a means to an end to all of this. After our meal is done and the dishes are taken care of, I remember exactly what I’m fighting for.

Jules curls up, her head on my lap, and drifts off to sleep. Once her breathing evens out, I do what I do every night she lies on me like this. I rest my hand on her belly and mentally promise the baby inside to just give us time. Eventually, she’s going to see what’s right in front of her.

Chapter 20

Jules

Falling asleep on the couch after dinner isn’t new to me. It has happened nearly every night since I found out that I’m pregnant. Growing a human is utterly exhausting.

Tags: Marie James Blackbridge Security Erotic
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