Still Into You: A Novel (Better Than Series Book 3) (15 page)

Chapter 21-Present:  Sock Drawer

“Hey,” Davis says.

I’m in the walk-in closet, shuffling things around in his sock drawer. Really, just

convincing myself that the things I put in there are real and not from my imagination.  Last night, all of it, was so surreal!

Turning my head, I see he is right behind me taking up the entire doorway.  His

arms up, hands grasping the top of the doorframe and leaning in.  I can make out every muscle in his arms and chest through his plain black t-shirt. 

Hmm. Plain t-shirt. That’s unusual. I wonder why he’s not wearing one of his t-shirts designed to make me smile.

“You’re organizing my sock drawer.  What’s stressing you out? What are you hiding?” Davis asks as he comes up behind me and presses his firm chest to my back.  Davis wraps one arm around my waist.  I back myself into him slightly, turn my head and rest my cheek on his collarbone.  Maybe it’s me that can make
him
smile.

“Nothing,” I whisper.

Davis leans over my shoulder and grabs the plastic object and the piece of paper I was about to replace in his sock drawer.

Davis jokes, “You mean
this
nothing?”

As much as I love being this close to him.  I need to give him a minute to really

see what is in his hand.  I duck out of his embrace and back up until I hit the side of the doorway with my butt, which stops me.

Davis doesn’t try to stop me.  He’s too busy looking at the off-white plastic stick

in his hand and then the paper and then back at the stick.  Confusion sweeps over his face and his eyebrows pinch together.  Slowly he turns and asks, his voice cracking, “Is this true?  Does this mean what I think it does?”

I smile broadly and nod yes.  “Davis… Mavis, I told you I’d never hide anything from you again, I just didn’t know how to tell you because I could barely believe it myself.”  Then I say the word out loud that I haven’t been able to wrap my head around since the doctor told me last night.  “I’m pregnant!”

“Really?” Davis moves toward me, brows raised, grinning in disbelief.

I want to jump into his arms, so I do. “Look at the stick.  Read the paper. We’re going to have a baby!”

Davis scoops me up and swings me around, then placing me back against the door jam, he drops to his knees.  Davis pulls my tank top up, grabs my butt with his other hand and pulls my body close to his mouth.  He speaks into my belly button.  “Hey, little baby, it’s your Dad. I cannot tell you how excited I am you decided to choose us to be your parents…”

I can’t stop the tears winding down my face, over my nose and splashing into Davis’ hair.  At last, not tears of fear, anger or panic.  Tears of absolute unrelenting happiness.

              “What’s with the locksmith number on the discharge paper?” Davis asks, not looking up from my tummy.  He’s actually nuzzling and kissing it, making me feel anything but maternal.

              I laugh out loud.  He DID see the number I wrote down. “Remember, you said when we had kids we’d have to get locks on the doors.  I thought you might want to get a jump on that.  You know so we have some privacy and can still make out in the closet…”

              “Yep, I remember. I’m going to get right on that.  But first, I think I’ll quiet your chatter right here in the closet one last time, without locks!”

              Davis lays me down right there on the wall-to-wall carpet.  The squirrel chatter stops immediately.

The End.

Have Fun.

Epilogue: The following February

I really didn’t mind being pregnant.  Let me rephrase.  I really didn’t mind being pregnant after the unorthodox way I found out and the first trimester.  I can’t say I enjoyed the barfing, but it was comforting for the seven and a half months I knew I was pregnant, to always have a little bit of Davis with me.  When the baby started moving, I knew I would never be alone again.  Davis became even more protective than he already was.  Oh, and I got to eat anything I wanted, except sushi and lunch meat, and “oh yeah, try to cut down on the caffeine.”  Probably the hardest part.

I did mind delivery.  Don’t let your friends fool you.  It’s uncomfortable and before the epidural, (Yes, I had an epidural because I’m a wimp and proud of it), painful.  It hurt so bad I called Davis a “motherfucker” during a long squirrel-like rant, right before I got it.  It’s not a word I typically use.  He wasn’t offended.  

He just laughed and smiled his sexy, smirky smile and told me, “Yes, I know… I believe that’s how we got here.”

The anesthesiologist had to stop and tell me to quit moving, so he could place the needle, I was laughing so hard.  Davis was right.   That’s exactly how we got here.

Here
is in one of the Labor-Delivery-Recovery rooms at Barnes Hospital.  I’m exhausted from delivering our baby and drifting in and out of sleep.  Davis has been great.  I haven’t even changed a diaper. 

During one of my “drifts out,” I look down to see and feel Davis’ hand in my hand and his arm across my now much flatter stomach. I look up his arm to see him sitting next to my bed, turned away from me, his chin resting on his other hand, which is propped on the edge of a clear hospital bassinet.  Davis is sitting very still and watching, just watching, our newborn son sleep.  Like he sometimes watches me.

“Hey,” I say, rubbing my fingers over the back of his hand.

Davis turns just his face to look up and slightly back at me.  He still leans on the bassinet.

His voice is soft and full of emotion, “Hi, Lizard Baby.”

“What are you doing?” I ask.

Davis sighs happily, “Just looking at him.  Trying to figure out what he looks like.  What name he looks like.”

Davis and I have already briefly discussed that “Cole,” Davis’ brother’s name, could be part of our son’s name.  I figured it would be his first name, so I didn’t really consider many others for too long.  I was thinking Cole Davis or Cole James.

I quietly question, “What about Cole for the first name?”

“He doesn’t look like a Cole.” Davis has turned back to his original position gazing at our son.

“What does he look like?”

Davis reaches out one finger of his hand and strokes our baby’s little soft pink hand, “I can’t quite put my finger on it. I’ve run through a hundred or so options, but just can’t figure it out.  Do we even have a baby name book?”

“No,” I reply, “I just looked on Goo…” I stop myself from saying Google, “on-line.” 

Davis turns to me, shaking his head and laughing softly into his upper arm. The word Google always makes him smile.  He looks once again at our beautiful boy and then back at me.  He’s still holding my hand, rubbing his thumb across my knuckles.

Davis, pinning me with his green guy-linered eyes, the ones that stole my heart, says, “I just can’t believe how crazy lucky I am.”

I inhale audibly. My husband is a genius. I guess the sound I just made sounded like pain, because Davis is now on his feet, leaning over me with a very concerned look on his face. “Are you okay?”

“I… I’m fine.  I just had a moment.  Say that last thing you said again.”

Slowly he says, “Uh, I can’t believe how crazy lucky I am?”

“Yeah, that’s it. That’s his name.”

“Crazy?”

I squeeze Davis’ hand, cock my head, purse my lips duck-like, bug out my eyes and finally say, “No, smarty-pants.  Lucky.”

“Lucky?”

“Yeah, Lucky.  I’d like to name him Lucky.”

Davis tries the name out, “Lucky Brandon.  Yeah.  I like it.”

I correct him, “Lucky
Cole
Brandon.”

Davis releases my hand, turns and picks up sleeping Lucky.  He tells him, “We’re going to call you Lucky, big guy, because you are the result of all our luck.  Finding each other, healing each other, loving each other.  We got Lucky.”

Soft tears roll down my cheeks as Davis hands me our son.

Lucky makes a few squeaky sounds.
              “Hey, he has a hamster snore, just like his mom,” Davis proclaims, as he crawls into bed next to us.  Our little three-person family, cuddling for the first time.

***

Davis yells at me through the door to the bathroom in my hospital room, “Okay, I’ve got him all dressed.  We’re ready to leave.”

I turn off the blow dryer and am doing one final brushing of my hair.  I’m still a little sore from delivery, but I think I look presentable enough for the short ride home.  And I do mean short.  The hospital is only four blocks from our condo.

I collect the last of my toiletries and put them in my large make-up travel bag, while I yell back, “Did you put him in the outfit I put out?”

Pushing the bathroom door open and looking at them both standing in front of me I see that Davis did NOT put Lucky in the going away outfit I chose.

Davis announces “We came up with something better.”

He holds Lucky up, “Lion King Style” in front of me.  Lucky is wearing a black onesie with white stitching with the words MOM LOVES ME on it.  I forgive Davis immediately for the baby’s wardrobe change.

“Awwwww,” I coo.

Davis hands Lucky off to me and says, “Check out mine.”

Davis stands back and spreads his arms out to the side.

“Awwww,” I say again,  “Matching t-shirts.”

Davis shakes his head and presses his lips together, controlling a chuckle, “Not
quite.
There’s a subtle difference… Read mine again.”

I stare at his shirt again and it hits me.  They are
almost
the same, except where Lucky’s says MOM LOVE
S ME
, Davis’ says:

MOMS
LOVE ME

Laughing so loud, it momentarily startles Lucky, I confess, “They sure do.”

I walk over to Davis and let him wrap both of us in his strong, but gentle embrace.  I lean my face up and Davis’ lips cover mine, slowly opening them and kissing me so deeply, my insides contract and release over and over.  Lucky wriggles in my arms.

Davis breaks the kiss, but keeps his face very close to mine, holding me in his gaze.  He reaches over and strokes Lucky’s hair.

I ask, “The t-shirts?  It’s going to be a thing with you two, isn’t it?

Davis answers, “Already is.  Gotta keep Mommy smiling.”

Lucky Mom.

             
Lucky’s
Mom.

              Like I said right before Davis first said he loved me, when I thought he was talking about someone else.

The
girl that Davis loves? 

              Lucky Girl.

Still Into You

Acknowledgments:

Thank you:

Sharon Korn, my editor.  Thanks for going on this journey for a third time.

Sarah Hansen at Okay Creations.  Thank you for making the cover of Still Into You and the whole Better Than Series so beautiful.

Jennifer Stevens

My Beta readers: Cathy A., Brian, Barb, Nikki, Kelly, Kevin and Julie.

The authors and bloggers:

Jamie McGuire (just get used to this Thank You in every book)-for your FAQs for Writers page on your website. 

Isabelle Peterson-Big Love, my friend.

Liv Morris-Ya Know What I Mean?

Erica Cope

Rachel Robinson

Tali Alexander and Chapter One Live! on YouTube.

Fictional Boyfriends, Pixie’s Book Blog, Maryse’s Book Blog, Amazeballs Book Addicts, Rude Girl Book Blog, Book Boyfriend Reviews, A Risque Affair Book Blog, Love Between the Sheets, Just One More Page, Cecily’s Book Review, The Book Lover’s, and Smutty Book Friends.

And any of the other bloggers I’ve missed in these acknowledgements. You help indie authors everyday.  You are so appreciated.

All the Ladies (and Gent of AS101).  You know who you are.  I depend on you – daily.

To BC and The Connor Boys – Get out of my spot!  I need to write.