But they were still now.
As still as the man watching her.
“I know,” she murmured. “Just a week. You’ll be back for the town Christmas party. You promised to take me.”
His jaw went a little tight. Parties weren’t exactly Mr. Social’s thing. “We talked about this,” he said.
“Yes, and you agreed to take me.”
He shook his head. “I said it wasn’t a great idea, you exerting the energy to dress up and go to a crowded event.”
“I’m not a piece of china,” she said.
“No one would ever mistake you for one,” he responded, and she was pretty sure it wasn’t a compliment.
“But,” he went on in that voice of steel, “you’re eight months pregnant and suffer debilitating asthma. Give yourself a damn break.”
“I’ve had one,” she said. “Maddie and Tara won’t even let me work at my own spa. I need to get out, Sawyer. I need to see people.” Before her life changed forever… “I’m going.”
“I’ll be back,” was all he said.
“And the party?”
“We’ll see.”
Not exactly a promise, but then again he was careful never to promise anything he couldn’t deliver. His word, when he gave it, was good as gold.
He lifted her chin and looked into her eyes for a long beat. “Dr. Tyler is only a call away,” he said. “Your sisters are close by. Jax and Ford are in your speed dials and are on standby for anything.”
Chloe’s obstetrician was wonderful, and so were her sisters Maddie and Tara and their husbands—Sawyer’s BFFs Jax and Ford. But if there was an emergency, it wasn’t any of them that Chloe wanted.
It was the tall testosterone and attitude-ridden man standing in front of her, already long gone given the look on his face.
“I want you to take care,” he said.
“You heard what Dr. Tyler said the last time we were in her office for false labor.” She patted her belly. “The Bean’s in for the long haul.”
“I meant you,” Sawyer said. “Take care of you.”
Coming from him, the words were tantamount to a shouted vow of love, and they moved her as only Sawyer could. “Always,” she promised, softening. “And what about you?”
“I haven’t had any labor pains, false or otherwise,” he deadpanned.
That got a laugh out of her.
He smiled but it faded quickly. “You know you can text or email me, and that I’ll call when I can,” he said. “And if anything happens—anything at all, Chloe—I can be back here in two hours.”
“Anything?” she asked playfully, trying to lighten the mood, using a voice that once upon a time would’ve made him kick off his shoes and strip and crawl back into bed with her, the hell with obligation and responsibility.
“I’ll be here.” He met her gaze, his own serious. “Always.”
An alarm on his watch beeped. He turned it off without taking his eyes from her.
She blew out a breath. “You’ve gotta go.”
He touched her face. “Chloe—”
She closed her eyes and turned her jaw into his touch. “I know,” she said. “And it’s okay. It’s all going to be okay.”
She just hoped that was true.
That night Chloe dreamed about how she’d told Sawyer she was pregnant. She’d planned a seduction to ease him into the news, but nerves had gotten the best of her and she’d blurted it out. She couldn’t help it; they’d both barely survived their growing-up years, and as a result they’d never even discussed having kids. And yet here they were, having a baby. Terrifying, and potentially devastating to their relationship…
“I’m pregnant.”
Sawyer stared at her.
“I don’t know how or why—” She broke off and rolled her eyes. “Okay, so I know how,” she said, and let out a nervous laugh.
He remained silent. Stoic. Absolutely unreadable.
“It’d be really great if you could say something,” she finally said.
That mobilized him. He came to the couch where she was perched but didn’t sit. “What are you going to do?”
“What am I going to do?” she repeated, staring up at him towering over her. “Don’t you mean what are we going to do?”
“Your body, your decision,” he said.
She gaped at him. “Well,” she said through gritted teeth, “I suppose I’m going to have a baby.”
He relaxed slightly at this, and she stared at him. “What did you think I was going to do?”
Shaking his head, he sat on the coffee table facing her. Taking her hand in his, he looked at her with those warm brown eyes. “What do you need from me?” he asked quietly.
“I have no idea.” She let out a breath and dropped her forehead to his chest. “Whatever you’ve got.”
He gathered her into his strong arms. “Everything,” he said, and brushed his mouth along her temple. “You’ve got everything I’ve got and everything I am.”
The next morning Chloe awoke and knew she was once again alone in the bed. But this time she wouldn’t open her eyes to the sight of her sexy-as-sin husband packing his bag.
Because he was already gone.
Every snippy, bitchy, unhappy comment she’d made to Sawyer over the past few months as she got bigger and more and more anxious about the baby had haunted her all night long.