“How long do we have together?”
“We’ve cleared his afternoon schedule so there’s no rush,” she replies as she comes to a stop. Her eyes dart to the door towards her left before she looks back at me. “Here we are.”
I glance at the door and draw in a deep breath.
“Do I just go in?”
“Yes, he’s expecting you.”
She takes a step back and I take two forward. My hand closes around the doorknob and with my heart in my throat, I twist it. Pushing the door open, I take one step after another until I see him. Dressed in dark jeans, a bright white Henley and a pair of Timberlands on his feet, he’s the leading man in all my dreams. I don’t know if he hears the door or if he senses me, but he slowly lifts his head and I feel his dark eyes slide over me. My body goes completely still, and I focus on his handsome face and all the clear-cut lines that are no longer hidden behind his scruff. His features so perfect, so symmetrical, they’re… beautiful.
Our eyes connect and I realize it, I’m no longer walking.
I’m not marching either.
I’m not even waddling.
I’m running.
Straight for him.
Towards his handsome face and the smile that’s all for me.
Straight into his open arms.
Chapter Fifty-Four
Blackie
I never realized how much I’ve underrated the power of a hug until my arms lock around Lacey and I feel her belly press against my body. Sunny claims a hug is the greatest medicine and that four a day is necessary for survival. She also says hugging allows us to communicate when we don’t have the proper words to express how we feel. Maybe she’s right because in that single moment, all of Lacey’s energy is transferred to me and I’m rendered speechless. For the first time in months, I’m fucking complete.
Yeah, hugs are the best. They’re fucking everything.
She lifts her head from my chest, and I smile down at her. Keeping one arm around her waist, I bring my other one around and lift my free hand to her face, gently brushing away the tears sliding down her cheeks.
“Hi,” I murmur softly.
A laugh bubbles from her throat and she wraps her hand around my wrist, leaning her cheek into my palm as she stares up at me.
“Hi, yourself,” she whispers.
Reluctantly, I gently move my hands to her shoulders and take a step back. As much as I want another hug, I need to see her. To take in every inch, and every curve. Commit them all to my memory.
“Let me look at you,” I say huskily.
Tucking a wayward curl behind her ear, she brings her other hand to her belly and turns slightly to the side so I can get a better view. It seems like a lifetime ago we were lying in bed together trying to imagine what she’d look like pregnant. Anything I’ve pictured is nothing compared to the real thing. She’s gorgeous and that belly…that belly is the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.
“You’re staring,” she whispers.
“Yeah, you should probably get used to that,” I say, lifting my gaze to hers. “I knew you’d be the most beautiful pregnant woman.”
She rolls her eyes but smiles.
“Stop, I’m going to have to go home later and between my stomach and the big head I might not fit through the door,” she teases, cocking her head to the side. Drawing her lip lower lip between her teeth, she waves a hand in front of her face. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you without facial hair…can I?”
I hate that she feels the need to ask to touch me, but I get it. I’ve wanted to put my hands on her stomach since I felt it against mine and I haven’t found the nerve to yet.
“You don’t have to ask.”
Taking a step closer, she releases her lip and lifts her hand to my face. Her fingers trace my jaw gently, moving towards my lips. I watch as her eyes take the same path and the fight the urge to dip my head and take her mouth. It’s been so long since I’ve had a taste.
Suddenly her hand falls away, and she takes a step back. One step feels like she’s put a valley between us.
“Smooth as a baby’s ass,” she quips awkwardly.
I’ve always made it my job to be in tune with what Lacey’s feeling and thinking. I know when she’s nervous and I hate that I’m the one making her feel that way. When we talk on the phone, it’s not awkward or forced anymore. It’s natural. I didn’t expect her to be uncomfortable around me.
“Lacey,” I say softly as I reach for her. She lets me take her hand and I gently pull her back to me, erasing the gap she between us. Bending my head, I touch my forehead to hers and look into her brown eyes.
“You’re nervous,” I murmur.
“A little,” she admits on a sigh.
“Why?”
“Because it’s you and me and so much has happened. So much has changed and is continuing to change,” she whispers hoarsely.
“We’re still Leather and Lace.”
“Are we?”
“Always,” I rasp.
There is no mistaking the fear in her voice and it’s my actions, all my mistakes, that put that fear in her. I know I can’t erase what I’ve done. I can’t even make it better. But I’ve made peace with that. I won’t beat myself up for the sins I’ve committed because that will never get me where I need to be. The best gift I can give her is being the best version of myself and that’s what I’m doing. She just needs to see me for who I’m becoming and not the man who broke her heart. I think she may even like him better. Maybe she won’t mind loving him for the rest of her life.
“I’m having such a sense of déjà vu right now,” she says as she lifts her hands to my chest. Peering up at me under the fringe of her lashes, she gives me a bashful smile and my chest tightens at the sight. She’s right, we’ve shared a moment like this before but for the life of me, I can’t place when.
“Do you remember after the whole Jimmy Gold mess when I visited you in the hospital?”
Ah, there it is.
It was just after the overdose that caused my heart attack when no one knew about us. No one knew she had crept into my heart and taken it hostage or that she was rooted in my soul, not even me.
“You were wearing gray sweatpants and a white t-shirt, and I swear my ovaries exploded. I knew then I wanted to have all your babies,” she says, and I laugh. My laughter quickly dies, though, as she takes my hands and places them on her stomach.
“Now, I’m having your daughter.”
“Yeah, you are,” I reply hoarsely as I move my hands around her belly, hoping to feel her move. She doesn’t, and that’s okay. I’m just happy to be this close to her. To be this close to them both.
“At least I know Riggs won’t interrupt us with a pizza this time,” she teases. The second she mentions pizza I lift my gaze and look over her shoulder at the pizza box sitting on the table. I forgot all about my quest to deliver on her cravings.
“Speaking of pizza,” I start, dropping my hands from her belly to hold hers. With our hands clasped together, I lead her to the table. “It’s probably cold by now. It’s not Denino’s or L & B, but I thought--”