31. Tilly

Chapter thirty-one

Tilly

S even hours later, we finally step into Ma's house. Mack and Miranda are already there, waiting for us. Miranda dashes across the living room, enveloping me in a bear hug that nearly squeezes the breath out of me.

"Oh my God, Tilly!"

"Okay, Andy. Jesus," I manage to gasp, my head spinning from the tight embrace.

She pulls back, wiping her eyes. "Sorry, I just... well, damn it, I missed you, Tilly."

Everyone laughs, but I'm in shock. Never in all our lives has Miranda been so touchy-feely. Her cheeks pink up and she looks away. Being her sister, I know embarrassment when I see it. I have the sudden urge to pull her back into the hug and admit I missed her too. Before I can, she steps back. "Okay, long day." She laughs lightly, then tells the room, "I'm going to bed. Don't wake me up in the morning."

I watch Miranda head off and I'm not the only one. Mack's entire head follows Miranda's movement, his tongue practically dangling out of his mouth. I almost giggle. I'll have to ask her about that tomorrow. Never in a million years would I suspect Mack of being anything but an intimidating slab of stone. But that facade dropped the moment his eyes settled on her retreating form. Almost as if he was waiting to look at her until her back was turned.

I push the thought away. It's late and I'm probably seeing things that aren't really there. It's close to two am, and Henrietta claps her hands together. "I for one, need my bed like a stripper needs a pole. I suggest you all do the same." She gives a pointed look to each of us in turn then moves toward the master bedroom, while Mack settles on the couch.

"You sure you're okay out here?" I ask him.

"Better vantage point," is all he says. I decide it's best to just let a sleeping bear lie and turn around. I'm planning to ask where Tommy wants me to sleep, but he's already on the move, disappearing down the hall. I hear the unmistakable sound of his door closing—and I'm almost certain, locking—behind him.

"Guess that's my hint that I'm bunking with my sister," I mutter.

"It could be worse," Mack says with a shrug. "You could be in some god-awful place like Kansas."

I flash him a wry smile. "Ah, yes. The love of my life is ignoring me, I'm pregnant and jobless, and I'm being threatened by my own family." His cheeks flush, a reaction that surprises me enough to elicit a chuckle.

"I guess that is a little… complicated," he says.

"Oh stop. I'm teasing. I actually feel pretty good right now. Better than I have in a while," I say. And it's true. Being here feels right. With Tommy, Miranda, and Henrietta here. Only Sam and family are missing. "Night Mack, sorry if I made you uncomfortable."

He chuckles. "You're fine, Til. Night."

I head to the second guest room, finding Miranda already in bed but awake. "Can I bunk with you?"

"Erm, sure. You're not going to sleep with—"

"Don't ask," I cut her off.

Miranda chuckles. "That good, huh? Well, I have some pajamas if you want," she says. Instead of fishing something out of my own bag, I grab her offered clothes. As I change, she suddenly bolts upright. "Tilly!"

"What?" I ask, almost certain she's about to tell me there's a giant spider on my head by the way she's looking at me.

She points at my stomach nearly flat stomach. "I was wondering why your boobs were so big! You're pregnant?"

I rush over, frowning. There is barely anything there, the tiniest little bump, but if anyone knows my body, its my twin sister. Trying to lie to her has always been impossible. "Shut up! I don't really want the whole house to know."

"You mean you don't want Tommy to know!" Miranda jumps out of bed, upset. "This is so fucked up. He's been pining for you. Not eating or sleeping well for months, and you do this to him?"

She heads for the door, but I block her path. "Andy, wait. Let me explain."

"He deserves to know, Tilly." She's angrier than I've ever seen her, and it fills me with warmth. It looks like Miranda and Tommy grew close in my absence.

"Grayson!" I whisper urgently and her face pales. We both know why I said it. Not telling Tommy was to protect him and the baby. What happened to Grayson is the example, the reason we are so afraid. By the look in her eyes, she understands. "I plan to tell him first thing tomorrow, I swear."

Her reaction softens as the words settle in. Before I know it, her face breaks out into a broad grin right before she wraps me in another hug. "He's going to be so happy!"

I'm not as confident. "You don't think he'll be mad?"

"Are you kidding? You should see him with TJ, he's a natural and he loves you so much." Blankly, I stare at the far wall. Maybe two months ago, he loved me, but since he found me in that bar, can't say that I've felt that love at all. If anything, he's been distant and even a little aloof. "Are you okay?" she asks.

"Yeah, just tired. Let's talk in the morning," I suggest, climbing into bed beside her. Hearing more about how much Tommy supposedly missed me will only manage to upset me further and I'm way too tired for it right now.

Miranda faces me, her concern evident. I roll my eyes. "Stop staring, I'm fine."

"No, you aren't. I have major twin sense going on. You're freaking out."

I turn away, seeking solace in the darkness. "Yeah, so I am. But you staring doesn't help."

She laughs and turns away too, allowing me a moment of peace.

"Til?" she whispers after a moment.

"Yes?"

"I'm gonna be an auntie." Despite everything, I can't help but smile.

"Go to sleep, Miranda."

***

Waking up with a pounding headache, I realize I hadn't drunk enough water on the plane. My mouth is as dry as if I've swallowed a bowl full of sand. Creeping out of bed, I tiptoe down the hall, suddenly hit by a wave of heat—a side effect of the hormones, no doubt. Ugh. The hot flashes are by far the worst part of pregnancy so far, seconded only by the nausea. I'm already sweating and stop to strip off Miranda's long-sleeve pajama shirt, trying to cool down. It's the middle of the night, and though Mack's asleep on the couch, I know that my bra isn't any more revealing than my usual bikini.

In the kitchen, the sight of orange juice in the fridge is a siren call. I grab the jug, drinking straight from it as I stand in the glow of the fridge light. A little drips onto my chest, but I can't stop. It's so damn good.

Then, footsteps. Peering around the door, I see Tommy heading my way.

"Uh, sorry, I was just… I thought I heard something and wanted to check," he says, a chuckle in his voice.

"Is this funny to you?" I ask, one eyebrow raised.

"You shirtless, drinking orange juice from the carton in the middle of the night? Yes, Tilly. It's funny."

I replace the jug and shut the fridge. "Happy to amuse you," I say, starting to walk away, but then a cramp seizes the back of my thigh, forcing me to pause and massage the spot. Did I say hot flashes were the worst? Because right now, I'm thinking it's the random cramps.

"What's wrong?" Tommy's concern breaks through his earlier amusement.

"Just a little dehydrated, I think." He reopens the fridge, takes the juice back out, and fills a glass for me, which I quickly drink down. It's just as satisfying as the first drink, the cool liquid easing my dry throat. While I'm chugging, he rushes to the pantry and finds a banana. Oh god, that looks so good. When was the last time I had one? I have no clue, but I'm about to go gorilla on this delicious yellow fruit.

Like the monster I currently am, I rip it in half and chuck the peels onto the bar. Within seconds it's gone. I recline in the barstool, thankful it has a plush back and close my eyes with a smile.

"Better?" he asks.

I nod, then burp. He laughs and my smile grows. How did he know what little man needed? Is there some sort of baby daddy ESP I haven't read about?

"Can I feel?" His question cuts through the air, sudden and unexpected. "Sorry, that probably sounds funny. I just heard the bartender say you were, uh, pregnant, and now I can kinda see the little bump, but it still doesn't seem real."

I give a silent nod, and he steps closer, his hand outstretched cautiously, as if approaching something sacred. When his hand gently touches my abdomen, a warmth spreads through me, and for a moment, all the tension and worry melts away.

Tommy is touching me, caressing his child growing in my stomach. The emotions are like a slap to the face. Hot flashes, cramps, emotions, and nausea. Pregnancy is such fun , I think, almost rolling my eyes.

But as soon as his hand touches me, something incredible happens—a flutter, the tiniest movement inside me. Looking down, I can hardly contain my excitement. "Oh my God! I felt it!" I whisper, buzzing with excitement.

"The baby? Has that not happened before?"

"No, never! More to the left," I grab his hand and move it to the spot where I felt the movement, pressing his hand in a bit firmer.

The baby moves again. "There!" I yell this time, barely able to contain my glee. Whatever the worst part of pregnancy is, I've finally found the best part. Feeling this little peanut kick around, moving like he's a real part of me, of us, is the most beautiful moment in my life.

Tommy tilts his head, a look of concentration on his face. "I erm, don't feel anything. Sorry."

Disappointment works through me. I want him to experience this joy, to understand what it means, but I clear my throat. "Oh, uh, right. Maybe I imagined it?" I look at my own stomach, sure that I will see a ripple of movement, but nothing happens. "But I think he really loves bananas," I say, trying to keep the mood light.

"He?" Tommy sounds curious.

"Oh, sorry, I don't really know. I just think of it as a 'him.'"

Then Mack's voice drifts from the living room, "As touching as this is, perhaps it's a conversation for the bedroom." Tommy chuckles, taking my hand and leading me down the hall, locking the door behind us in his room. Time slows the moment his hand is in mine. Longing, deep and intense pulses through me. I need to tell him; get this damn secret out before it eats me alive.

Sitting on the mattress, he joins me. I can tell he's nervous, rubbing his palms on the pajama pants he changed into, not meeting my eyes. "Have you gone to the doctor?"

"Not yet. But the doctor at the ER said baby's fine. Eight weeks along and growing like a weed." Something about that sticks out in my mind, but I don't exactly know why so I brush it away. "Except my iron levels, apparently. That's why I passed out at the bar, or so Doctor Nice-guy at the hospital says." I'm still not convinced it wasn't just the shock of seeing Tommy at my bar.

There's a pause, the air charged with tension, and I can practically feel Tommy doing the math in his head. Fuck. This really wasn't how I planned on telling him, but the cat's out of the bag now. "Tilly? Is that… is that my baby?"

I nod, the silence stretching between us, heavy with unspoken words and emotions.

Then, his face pales, like he's staring into oncoming traffic but can't move, his expression frozen. I don't know what to do, so I stand up. Honestly, I completely understand if he needs a few days to process the information. I sure as hell did. As I go to leave the room, he grabs my wrist, holding me there.

He stands too, his breathing shallow and rapid. I brace myself for any reaction—anger, denial, rejection—anything but this overwhelming silence.

"I was gonna tell you, but after what happened to Grayson, I was worried they would use it against us," I confess, my voice barely above a whisper.

Suddenly, Tommy's arms are around me, his kisses landing softly on my face. They're wet and sloppy. Are those tears? He's crying. Dropping to his knees, he kisses my bare stomach.

I can't help but laugh, even as tears start to blur my vision. He rests his forehead against the slight bump, whispering to our baby, "Little man, this is your daddy. You can call me Papa, or Dad, or Butthead for all I care. But I'm here, okay? I'm here and I'm never leaving your momma's side again."

My attempts to hold back sobs finally fail, the moment so raw and beautiful. He kisses his way back up to my lips, and as we embrace, he lifts me off the ground.

The kiss deepens, his hands exploring gently, reassuringly, a silent promise of his presence and protection. Eventually, he sets me down on the mattress. "Tilly, is this okay? Fuck, I shouldn't touch you. But I mean…" Both hands are on top of his head, but his face is so bright, so full of unbridled joy. "Is this real?" he asks, sounding almost afraid of the answer.

I close the space between us and put a hand on his chest. Maybe I don't say it aloud, but I want the message to be clear; yes, you can touch me. All you want. "Yeah, Tommy. It's real," I say even though I can hardly believe it either. This morning, I was counting tips and trying to figure out when I can move out of the motel. But within a few hours, I'm states away with the man I love, happy I'm going to have his baby.

His eyes meet mine, and the happiness shifts. It's still there, but there is something else overpowering it. His hooded gaze leaves little to interpret.

"I missed you so much, Tilly." I don't let him say anything else and tilt my head up. His chin dips, and our mouths collide. Long strokes of his tongue against mine instantly fill me. I'm hit with such an intense arousal that I gasp into his mouth, before pulling back. "Holy hell, that's good." Every feeling is intensified, my entire body buzzing with each touch.

He stops, propping himself up. "Is it? I mean I can't hurt you or little man right?"

I shake my head. The books all say sex is perfectly okay. "Yes, Tommy. Please, I need this." It seems like Tommy doesn't need to be told twice. He pulls my pants off and starts kissing me all over, starting with my little baby bump and working his way down to my legs. I watch him, taking such care with my body. His touch feels so intimate and gentle. It's like he's worshipping me, like I'm his goddess. A beautiful powerful woman. Full of life that we've created together.

I grab onto his face, the heat in his eyes matching how I feel. I tug on the waistband of his pajama pants. "Off."

He jumps up, scrambling to obey, removing his pants and underwear in one quick move. His hand goes down to his dick, stroking lightly as he waited for my next command.

"Kiss me," I say.

He smiles. "So damn bossy," but crawls over me slowly and meets my mouth with his.

Yes. This. This is what I want. Tommy and me, together, naked. All night, all day. Against a wall, on a bed, in a changing room. Wherever we are. As we taste one another, I reach down and stroke his cock, teasing the slit on top with my fingers before doing a long, firm caress from the top to the base.

"Tommy…" I say, suddenly growing impatient for the main event.

"Yes love, where do you want me?"

"Fuck me, Tommy. Please."

He chuckles once. "I guess we don't need to worry about protection." I laugh with him but it turns to a sigh as he positions himself between my legs. "Ready?" he asks. Before I even answer, he thrusts into me, growling in a satisfied snarl as he does.

But the movement is too gentle, too slow. Probably afraid of breaking me or little man.

"Harder Tommy."

"I don't want to hurt—"

I put a hand over his mouth, the last thing I want to think about while doing this is that . "Harder, please." Tommy's hips pull back and he pounds back into me. Yes! More! I don't know if I'm saying it or thinking it, but it feels so damn good.

My legs are already shaking with restraint as he repeats the motion, over and over. Everything feels so right. But I know my body. Since getting knocked up, my orgasms are on a hair trigger. I'm surprised the motel didn't get complaints about my self-induced moaning. My entire body is already tingling, my climax on the horizon.

Tommy's growls grow more intense. "You ready to come for me, Tilly?" I yelp out a loud, "Yes!" as he pistons his cock into me again. The tingling intensifies, burning through my body like a hot iron through butter. But I need more. So much more. My hand flies between us, furiously rubbing at my clit.

"That's it, babe. Come on my cock. Now, babe." He's slowing down, drawing out the pleasure but hitting that special, magical place deep inside me.

At the same moment, we burst together, his warmth seeping into me and mine spreading out onto the mattress. Taking his time, Tommy moves in and out a few more times before finally collapsing onto me.

He's pecking my cheek with kisses in an instant. They're wet again and I realize we're both crying. Our reunion was more than beautiful. It was like a rainbow over a waterfall hidden in the middle of the most remote jungle on the planet while harps played and angels sung. I don't care that its corny. I'm too happy. "I love you Tilly." He says through his kisses. "I love our baby." He mushes his mouth to mine. "I love you. I love you." I'm giggling as he continues to pepper my body with gentle nibbles.

"I love you too, Tommy." I say, knowing I've never meant the words more.