hers and still buried deep. Her soft, encouraging moans are the most beautiful sound.
“Move in with me,” I mumble against her neck. “I’m very close to begging.”
Bella surprises me then. She doesn’t say yes. She doesn’t say no. She just relaxes against me. “Oh, I love you, Ethan.”
I close my eyes at the words, at the emotion that threatens to split me in half. Just when I thought I had nothing left to give, she proves me wrong.
“Christ,” I whisper.
Bella chuckles. “Still just me.”
“I love you too,” I murmur. “Far, far more than I should, probably, but if there’s a way to stop I hope I never find it.”
“Me neither,” she whispers, twisting to kiss me. “Can I move out of the guest bedroom now?”
Laughing, I pull her close. “Baby, you are never sleeping in here again.”
Bella
Lucas Edwin Carter was a surprise down to the very last moment, which made sense, since he had been nothing but surprising from the time he was two lines on a pregnancy test.
We’re at a farmers’ market with the girls when another round of Braxton Hicks contractions hits. Ethan is at my side, arm around my waist. “Another set of false ones?”
“I think so, yes. Who knew labor was so much fun that your body had to simulate it for weeks beforehand? Oh. Ouch.” I grip his arm, resting my face against his chest. He smells good.
“Not right now, sweetie,” he tells someone who’s hopefully not me. “Bella will be fine, but she’s in a bit of pain right now.”
“Baby pain?”
“Right, pregnancy pain.”
No, I want to object, labor pain. The contractions have never been quite this painful before—and have they ever gone on for quite this long? I’m about to open my mouth to tell Ethan that perhaps this is different, when the contractions release me from their fiery grasp. The pain is gone.
“Okay,” I murmur, releasing his arm. “We’re good. We’re good.”
The furrow in his brow is back, concern in his eyes. “Are you sure?”
“One hundred percent.” My voice is more certain I feel, but I’ve learned that’s another part of pregnancy. You’re asked to self-assess all the time, as if you have a direct line of communication with the baby—as if we keep up a text conversation.
Ethan eyes my stomach with a fair bit of skepticism. He’s the one who wants to go to the hospital at every hint of a contraction, has been more nervous than me since I entered the ninth month.
Better safe than sorry is his constant refrain. It’s gotten us admitted to the hospital twice so far only to be sent back home.
“I’m not going in today,” I tell him.
“Fine.” His hand rests on my low back as we continue walking through the market, looking at the best early spring has to offer.
And then the second contraction hits.
And then the third one.
And they’re not at all like the ones that have come before. Ethan steers me toward the car, calling for the girls to hurry up and swearing under his breath.
“This was a bad idea,” he mutters, glancing at me.
I gasp with sudden relief as a contraction lets go of me. “I wanted to go to this market. Did you get the local honey? The organic one Skye told us about?”
“No, and we’re not turning back to find the honey stall.”
I stop dead in my tracks, and he’s forced to stop beside me. “Ethan, that was the whole point of us coming here!”
He looks up at the sky, like he’s asking it for strength. Perhaps he is. I glare at the perfect line of his jaw. “We are not turning back,” he says, “but I can send someone to get it for you? Would that make you feel better?”
“That’s just wasteful. Don’t worry, I’ll be super quick.” But I’m not quick, because as soon as I turn, another contraction strikes me.
If the other ones were Little League, this one is Varsity.
My nails dig into his arm and I’m gasping. “No honey.”
“No honey,” Ethan repeats. “Bella, your water just broke.”
I look down at the leggings that have been my home for the past few weeks. It takes me a painfully long moment to compute that what he’s saying has actually happened. “Oh God. How didn’t I notice that?”
He leads me toward the car. “We’re going to the hospital, and I don’t want an argument about it.”
I’m still stuck on the water breaking. “I really thought I’d notice it.”