Chapter 33

33

Abrielle

The gallery is almost done.

Paintings are being hung up now. The lighting is perfect.

The floor looks great too. I had been worried a little that it was too boring but one of Jess's friend's husband owns a flooring company and he came in with some ideas on how to scuff it up to make it look cool.

I don't know.

It's almost too good to be true right now.

The gallery. The pregnancy. Colver.

Living in a somewhat parallel life with him taught us both that words don't mean a thing. I watched my mother fall in love three times a week. Saying it. Getting gifts. Getting married. All for nothing. All just a joke.

Same for Colver's father.

He'd set his eyes on a woman and he would have to have her.

Then he'd get her, get bored, and he'd cheat.

In other words… Colver being present…

It's the most romantic thing in the world.

Dr. Whitney smiles when the baby shows up on the screen.

My eyes well with tears.

I look at Colver and his jaw goes tight and his eyes go intense.

He loves the baby already. I can sense it. I just know it.

I reach for Colver with my left hand and as soon as I touch his hand, he squeezes mine.

"So, back on the ice, huh?" Dr. Whitney asks. "Finally."

"I needed the break," Colver says.

Dr. Whitney looks at him. "Sure." She looks at me. "Are you going to the game?"

"No thank you," I say with a cocky smirk.

"Good for you," Dr. Whitney says.

"What's with all the hockey hate?" Colver asks.

"I don't hate hockey," I say.

"Neither do I," Dr. Whitney adds.

"I'm just exhausted," I continue. "Everything is hurting. Aching. I'm just… tired…"

"Growing a human will do that," Dr. Whitney says.

"What do you mean everything hurts?" Colver asks, his face getting even more serious. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"Colver, it's okay," I whisper.

"It's not okay," he says. "Do you hear this?" He nods to Dr. Whitney. "What's going on with her? With the baby?"

"Whoa," Dr. Whitney says. "Take a deep breath, Colver."

"Don't tell me to take a breath," he says.

"Colver, it's okay," I say. "Hey. Seriously. It's okay. I'm just tired. That's all."

"Listen to this heartbeat," Dr. Whitney says.

She touches a button on the ultrasound machine and there's that whooshing noise again.

Colver's eyes light up. He swallows hard.

That's as much emotion as he'll show, which is fine.

He's here. He's protective.

He's worried about me and about the baby.

"Hear it?" Dr. Whitney asks. "That's a strong heartbeat. Healthy heartbeat. Everything is perfect with the baby. You may not like this simple, smartass answer, Colver, but your… Abrielle is growing a life. Her body is sharing itself with this little life. Everything she eats and drinks and does. Her body is in a functional state that never stops to keep things going."

"I'm not an idiot here," Colver growls. "But if she says she's hurting…"

"Just exhaustion," I say. "That's all. I swear on my life, Colver."

He looks down at me. "I can't have anything happen to you or the baby."

Those words make my entire body freeze, defrost, and melt, all in the same breath.

Now that's the most romantic thing Colver has ever said to me.

There's silence in the room as Colver and I stare at each other.

Until finally, Dr. Whitney says, "I'll print some new pictures for you. Since this little one is growing so fast."

I manage to peel my gaze from Colver's.

It is crazy how things have changed already.

Dr. Whitney did laugh a little when I told her about my baby bump issue.

Speaking of that… it sounds so dumb to say, but… it feels like it's bigger each day that goes by. Bigger. Harder. Gently nudging out some more, but I don't need new clothes yet.

After printing out a whole bunch of ultrasound pictures, Dr. Whitney gives me privacy to get dressed.

Colver doesn't leave the room.

He helps me get dressed.

Which is so fucking hot. I don't care. It's sexy.

The way he's right there next to me. Helping me. Touching me.

The way he's worried with his easily ignited anger, wanting to protect me and the baby.

"You sure you don't want to come to the game?" Colver asks. "I can get you in a fancy suite. All the food you can eat. Tons of pizza…"

"Tempting," I say. I touch his huge, muscular chest. "I'd rather be curled up on the couch, watching the game, waiting for you to come home."

"So you're going to watch the game?"

"Of course," I say. "I have to support my man. And the baby wants to watch his or her daddy play hockey."

I feel heat tickle my cheeks, not sure if what I just said went too far or not.

Colver doesn't back away. He doesn't get mad.

Instead, he cups my face and lowers his lips to my forehead.

I smell his neck.

That musky, manly combination of his soap, sleep, and a splash of cologne.

I kind of want to blame all of this on the hormones, but I can't.

I've wanted Colver for such a long time. Even when he was sort of my stepbrother. That flirty and naughty, slightly taboo fantasy…

"Are you okay, kitten?" Colver whispers. "You're kind of shivering."

"I'm perfect," I respond.

When I'm with you, Colver, I'm fucking perfect.