Seventeen

SEVENTEEN

Brock

There was a sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach.

It was a Thursday evening after work, and I was standing in my workshop in my detached garage, constantly glancing out the open door toward the passing cars driving down the street. If I wasn't looking out the door, I was staring out the window toward Mia's house.

She hadn't come home on time like usual.

I'd arrived roughly forty-five minutes ago, and she still hadn't turned up. I didn't want to jump to conclusions—we didn't typically go for a walk after work on Thursdays, so it wasn't as though she'd stood me up—but I was still concerned that something bad had happened.

I hoped she was okay, that the baby was okay.

What if she'd gone into labor early? I didn't want to believe that could be the case, because it was far too soon. The baby wasn't due for another three months.

Having felt so anxious about her well-being, I walked out to my garage to work. I needed to do something to keep myself busy while I waited.

I wanted to call her, to make sure she was okay, but I didn't want her to think I was monitoring her every move. So, I told myself I'd wait an hour. If she still wasn't home at that point, I'd give her a call to confirm everything was okay.

With seven minutes left before that deadline, I felt like I could finally breathe again when I saw Mia's car move past my driveway and pull into her own. Though I attempted to stay put, to not do what my heart was urging me to do, I failed.

My feet carried me out of the garage, my legs powering me toward Mia. She'd gotten her mail and was back in her car by the time I stepped out of the garage. And when she opened her garage door to pull her car in, I was already walking along her driveway.

Mia parked and stepped out of her car. She made her way to the back hatch of her SUV, glanced up, and saw me making my approach. "Oh, Brock. Hey. Is everything alright?"

"I was going to ask you the same thing," I returned. "You missed our meeting at the mailbox an hour ago."

Pulling open the hatch, she apologized. "I'm so sorry. I made a last-minute decision while I was at work today. I thought I'd go to the grocery store after work, since we don't usually walk on Thursdays."

"I thought you normally tried to go on the weekend."

"I do, but I'm heading back home this weekend to see my family," she explained. "Actually, despite telling her it wasn't necessary, my mom insisted on throwing a baby shower for me. They were going to come here to do it to make it easier on me, but since most of my extended family is there, I figured it was just better for me to be the one to travel. And as much as you know I'll love the party, I'm sure I'll be far too tired when I get back late Sunday afternoon to make a run to the store."

"That makes sense," I said, hating that she'd be gone most of the weekend, but happy she was going to have this time with her family. Turning my attention to the back of her vehicle, I noticed there was more than just grocery bags there. "Mia, what's all this?"

She laughed. "Oh, you probably think I'm an absolute mess. I've been picking things up occasionally when I'm out, but by the time I get home, I'm usually too tired to bring any of it inside. Then I forget about it until the next time I open the door, and there's too much there to carry, so it never gets taken out and carried into the house."

"Why don't you take a bag now and head inside? I'll grab the rest and bring it in for you," I said.

Her head dropped to one side, and she smiled. "That's very sweet of you. I hope you know I didn't tell you why the back of my car is full just so you'd carry everything inside for me."

Considering the relief I felt knowing that she was okay and nothing bad had happened, there wasn't much I wouldn't have done for her right now. Truthfully, I had a feeling I told her to head inside and let me handle the rest for her, because I needed to do something to calm myself down. Sure, I'd had a few minutes to stand close and talk to her, to confirm she was okay with my own two eyes. I still felt slightly worked up about her, and in an effort not to put my hands on her by pulling her in for a hug that she'd surely think I was crazy for, keeping them busy was my only option.

"I know you didn't intend for that, but I'm more than happy to do it for you," I said. Jerking my head toward the house, I urged, "Go inside, and let me take care of this for you."

Her voice was just a touch over a whisper when she replied, "Thank you, Brock."

I shook my head slightly, attempting to brush it off and stop myself from sharing the truth about how I felt today.

That was something I was noticing was becoming more and more difficult to contend with as time passed. It had been a few weeks since I spent the day building a crib and watching movies with Mia, and the feelings I had for her weren't diminishing. Whenever I was around her, I never wanted it to end. Whenever she wasn't around, I found myself constantly thinking about her.

I'd been debating about whether to tell her how I felt for her, but I was worried I'd ruin what we had now if the feeling wasn't mutual. In my mind, it was better to have what I did than to have nothing at all.

And I guess there was a part of me that wasn't sure it was fair for me to reveal how things had changed for me with her when she was already dealing with so much change in her life. The last thing I wanted was to become a source of stress and contention for her.

Luckily, I didn't need to worry I'd slip up and say something now, because Mia grabbed two lighter bags and carried them into her house.

I followed behind her with a few more. Then I made several additional trips in and out of the house as I emptied the back of her vehicle, wishing that one day I'd get to do this because she was mine.

It was the last weekend of June, and it was safe to say that summer had arrived.

Not only were we a few days past the official first day of summer, but the recent weather had indicated we were in the thick of it, too.

Because it was hot.

Hotter than I ever remembered it being at this point in the year.

And it had been that way for the last week or so. Recognizing the weather would be unbearable as the day progressed and knowing I needed to get a few things done around the outside of the house, I decided to wake up early and get out before the sun was blazing.

I'd mowed, weed whacked, and trimmed the shrubs all before the outdoor temperature got too hot and intolerable. I had some projects to take care of in my workshop for a few locals this weekend, and I'd be much cooler working in the garage than out in the sun during the peak heat of the day.

That's why I was here now with the fans running and the windows open. It wasn't the same as being in the air conditioning, but I wasn't directly in the sun, and there was a nice breeze blowing in the shop.

Whenever my machines weren't running, I couldn't help but notice the sounds of summer were all around me, too.

Not just with birds chirping, kids playing, or a neighbor's dog barking, but I couldn't miss the unmistakable sounds of my fellow neighbors getting their yard work accomplished. Someone was using a chain saw in the neighborhood, and I could only let out a sigh of relief that I'd been smart about doing things like that in the fall.

Just as I was about to start running a machine to finish the work on a custom bracket for someone, I heard a lawnmower just a little bit too close. I moved over to the window, looked out, and saw Mia was cutting her grass.

I'd been doing my best for weeks not to overstep, but my blood was boiling every time I saw her doing things she shouldn't have been doing.

Of course, it wasn't that I didn't think she was capable. I knew she was. And in another scenario, I might not have felt the overwhelming desire to step in during any of these situations.

The problem now was that she was just two months away from her due date, and it was sweltering outside. When she turned the mower around and started moving across the lawn in the opposite direction, now facing toward my house, it gave me the perfect view of her face.

She looked miserable.

And hot.

She was moving much slower than I suspected she would have if she wasn't seven months pregnant.

Despite having done what I'd done for my property early this morning, so I could avoid being out in the heat and sun, I didn't have it in me to sit back and watch this woman risk her safety, or that of the baby's, just so I could keep myself cool.

Without a moment of delay, I set the bracket down on the workbench and walked out of the garage, pulling the door shut behind me.

Mia saw me making my approach, made it to the edge of her grass, and turned off the mower.

"Hi, Brock," she greeted me, her cheeks redder than ever, with a sheen of sweat covering her face. "How's it going?"

My brows knit together. "You look uncomfortable."

She didn't try to deny it. "Has it always been this hot at the end of June, or is it worse for me now because I'm pregnant?"

"I was thinking it feels much hotter than it usually does at this time," I shared.

Mia brushed the back of her left hand over her upper lip before lifting her right arm up to wipe the sweat off her forehead with the sleeve of her T-shirt. "Well, that's a relief. I mean, it's horrible, but at least I know I'm not crazy. I slept in a bit later today, and I went crazy cleaning my house this morning, so I didn't realize how late it had gotten by the time I was ready to come out to mow. I would have put it off until tomorrow, but my parents and my brother are coming for a quick trip to visit and bring me the things I couldn't fit in my car from the baby shower weeks ago. I would have waited on the grass, but if I do, my dad or my brother would come here tomorrow and take care of it, and with them being here for only a few hours, I wanted to be sure I could enjoy my time with them."

I reached for the handle of the mower, my hand inadvertently covering Mia's. "Get out of this heat, go inside, and get yourself something cool to drink," I urged her. "I'll take care of this for you."

"What? No, Brock, you can't do that."

"Mia, I'm not joking with you," I said, my tone calm but serious. "Get inside and cool off. I can't stand by and watch you struggle to do this while I'm perfectly capable."

"But… but it's not your responsibility."

That doesn't mean I don't want it to be, I thought.

I lifted my other hand up toward the handle of the lawnmower. But instead of reaching for the handle, I curled my fingers around Mia's delicate wrist. "Maybe not. But if something happens to you or the baby because I sat back and watched you instead of helping, I won't be able to live with myself. So, please, Mia, go inside, get out of this heat, and let me take care of this for you."

Though it couldn't have been more than fifteen or twenty seconds that we stood there in such a tense silence, it felt like whole minutes had passed as Mia's wide eyes roamed over my face and her shocked expression eventually turned to acceptance. "Thank you," she rasped.

I gave her a gentle nod in response and released her wrist, lifting my other hand slightly, so she could remove hers from the lawnmower.

She turned and walked away, and I gave myself the opportunity to take a few seconds to watch her ass as she made her way back inside. Then I got to work and mowed her grass for her.

The next day, I'd just come back into my house after spending the better part of the morning in my workshop finishing up what I hadn't the day before when it happened.

I'd made my way to the kitchen, washed my hands in the sink, and reached into the fridge for a drink. And as I leaned my hips against the counter and looked out the window, I saw her.

Mia.

Fuck.

She had walked out onto her deck, her family with her, and she was wearing a bikini. Damn, she looked beautiful.

My hand went to my groin, my dick stirring to life at the sight of her. That was nothing new. I'd been dealing with unsavory thoughts of Mia for months now. How could I not when I loved the sound of her voice, the way she laughed, or how she openly shared whatever was on her mind without hesitation?

It hadn't been easy before now—I spent more time than I cared to admit getting myself off in my bed or in the shower while visions of Mia danced in my mind. Now? Now I'd have something else to add to the visions.

Mia, in a bikini, looking undeniably sexy.

Even seven months pregnant, she was gorgeous.

And this wasn't about some pregnancy fetish I had. It was her. This woman who was everything I'd ever wanted—funny, outgoing, intelligent, and gorgeous.

Her legs were toned, her ass perfectly round. And her tits were full and plump, more than a handful of fun. She spun around, unknowingly giving me a great show, as she maneuvered toward a chair and eventually sat down with a huge smile on her face.

I could have stood there, staring at her all day long.

But I didn't.

The longing I felt was growing by the day, and seeing her nearly naked was my undoing.

I needed relief.

I needed this woman more than I ever thought was possible to need a woman.

If I didn't figure out a way to tell her the truth soon, I wasn't sure how much longer I was going to survive like this.

On that thought, I let out a frustrated sigh, climbed the stairs, and hopped in the shower, where I stroked my dick to the vision of Mia, looking as gorgeous as ever in a bikini.

I thought getting myself off once would be enough.

But I was still so unsatisfied after the first time, I had no choice but to find that release once more.