Chapter Twenty-One

Chasten

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I blinked at the sound of tapping around downstairs. What was making so much noise? Kirk. The answer every morning since Kirk came home three days ago was Kirk.

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"What's for breakfast?" I asked him over our mating link, unable to hide my smirk.

"Umm…. I got hungry."

"I thought we said I'd cook this morning?" I yawned.

"You were out cold and you and the baby looked so comfy."

"You can't see our pup right now, Mr. Gruff. Nice try, though."

"I can too. They're in your beautiful tummy."

"Flattery will get you everywhere – sometimes. Not this morning, though."

"I'm making sausage gravy. With that new flour stuff they started making out east. It tastes like flour but has less bad for you stuff in it."

"Hmmmph! Why does everyone hate carbs?"

"I don't. Carbs help us. I'm just trying to cook a balanced meal."

"While balancing on one foot?" I shot back at him.

"I was hungry. What if I lived alone? Would you be mad at me for it then?" Kirk asked.

"No because then you'd have to but you don't live alone. You live with me and the baby."

"Well, our pup isn't old enough to cook."

I sat up and stretched my arms high above my head. I was smack dab in the middle of my pregnancy and my full moon belly was starting to show it. Sighing, I waddled into the bathroom before answering him again.

"I'm starting to think you don't like my cooking."

"That's not true and you know it," Kirk called my bluff. "This is pure instinct. You're pregnant and showing. It's my job to hunt and feed you. This is how modern wolves hunt unless you want me to shift and drag a dead deer home."

"I wouldn't say no to going hunting, but I don't think you should."

"My wolf is healthy."

"Yes, but if you need to shift back, Kirk," I sighed. "Don't make me worry like that."

"I'm not. That's why I'm cooking."

"It smells good," I said, giving up on the argument.

He'd rest when he grew tired enough. Besides, his cast would probably come off next week anyway. He didn't know it, but I caught him wiggling his toes when he wasn't supposed to more than once. I didn't call him out on it because sometimes if he fell asleep around lunchtime, I'd forget to eat until I was ravenous enough for my wolf to protest over my art-focused brain. Still, slowly but surely, my pregnancy made headway and Kirk's leg healed. His cast came off and he did a few physio appointments before he was declared healthy again. He still dreamt about Delanie and what her life might've been like if she hadn't hydroplaned. I think it was all that ‘unspent' time that haunted him and how much unspent time we had almost lost out on together.

The night before my ‘big' ultrasound he woke up growling and snarling about the steering wheel. I turned on the light and wiped the sweat from his brow. As soon as I touched him, his scent turned from panic to embarrassment. He pulled me as close as my belly would let him and kissed the top of my head. His hands still shook but slowly stopped as his body used up the rest of the adrenaline that the nightmare set off through his bloodstream.

"It's alright," I cooed to him. "You're right here with me and the pup. We're all together and safe. Come on, spoon me. Hold onto me and you'll know we're together, even in your sleep."

It took us a few minutes to move all my mini pillows around to support my belly, knees, and all the other parts of me that pregnancy made ache but, in the end, he spooned me close to him. By morning, the nightmare felt years away. Kirk was up and cooking breakfast. Sooner or later, I'd suggest therapy but didn't feel now was the time to press the issue. Besides, it's not like a therapist could beam the memory or the fact Delanie died that night out of his brain. She was someone we never knew but she had almost been the one that tore apart everything. I wasn't angry at her. I was sad for everyone who had known her, but I was so grateful – shamefully grateful – that Kirk was still alive, well, and with me and our unborn pup.