“Is there anything I can get you?”
“No, no, I’m good,” she said.
The manager walked away, and I helped Layla to her feet.
“You do realize that the first person you announced your pregnancy to was the grocery store manager,” I said. Layla giggled.
“Yeah, Maggie’s gonna be pissed about that.”
“We could always not tell her that part,” I said.
“No, I’m done keeping secrets. Plus it’s basically the best part of the story.”
“What?” I said. “Telling the manager is better than me making you a throne out of Dr. Pepper boxes? Or better than an orange popsicle? Better than me telling me I love you?”
“No. It’s the funniest part is what I meant. Thank you, for taking care of me. I’m glad you were here.”
“I want to be here,” I said.
22
Layla
Tyler was so protective. He saw I wasn’t feeling well and took charge, got me comfortable, made sure I was safe. He got me an ice pop and then held me when I was scared.
The thing about him that I hadn’t put in to words before—overwhelmed by the attraction between us most of the time—was that he made me feel safe. With his arm around me, I wanted to rest my head on his chest and just feel peace and comfort. Like he was my safe harbor.
“Will you come back home with me—after I pay for these popsicles—so we can talk? I’d like to figure out how this is going to look now that I’m having a baby and what level of involvement—”
“Layla, I’ll come home with you. Don’t say things like involvement. It’s insulting to me. My level of involvement will be total. Are you okay to check out? I’ll bring my truck around and drive you home. We can get your car later.”
“Okay,” I said.
I was stunned by his ferocious insistence on total involvement. Then there was a rush of comfort, of being coddled by him, when he offered to drive me. By the time I pushed my cart to the door, he had parked in the no-parking zone, vaulted out of the truck and was loading my bags. Then he took my hand and helped me into the truck. I wanted to say that pregnancy didn’t make my legs stop working, but I decided to let him take care of me. It felt good to be taken care of like that.
I was holding his coat in front of me, “You’ll need this back.”
“Hold on to it. I’ll get the heat going in here,” he said. I unfolded the coat and snuggled into its Sherpa lining.
Tyler drove, and I drew my legs up, turned a little to lean my head on the top of the seat. The soothing motion of the drive soon sent me drifting off. The warm, light sleep was a balm to my nerves, and I woke to Tyler’s lips nudging mine apart, his big, calloused hand on my cheek. My eyes fluttered open, sleepy and confused, but my body alight with sudden arousal. With one hand he unhitched my seat belt. He held my face in both hands, his mouth on mine. I gave a small cry at the flood of emotion and sensation that accompanied that kiss. When his tongue breached my lips and stroked into my mouth, I felt a tremor of deep need and satisfaction all at once. I wrapped my arms around his neck. He broke the kiss for a second, a grin on his face, “God, I love when you do that,” he said.
“Put my arms around you?” I said.
“Yeah. Exactly how you do it. I don’t know. But I’ve been dreaming about that, about you. It’s been a long time.”
Tyler dipped his head and kissed my forehead. He slid his hands down to my neck, stroking my jaw, rubbing my shoulders. He leaned his forehead against mine, “God, Layla, a baby,” he said, wonder in his gruff voice. I nodded. Tyler gathered me in his arms and hugged me like I’d given him the best news. I hugged him back.
“I’m gonna go put my popsicles in the freezer. Come on in,” I said.
He insisted on carrying the bags, and he followed me up the steps my apartment. When we went in, he started ripping open boxes and sorting colors.
“What are you doing?”
“I’m putting all the orange ones in one box so you can find them easier,” he said as if it were obvious. The other colors were scattered on the table, discarded as he hunted for orange ones. I started to giggle.
“That is the most romantic thing anyone has ever done for me,” I said earnestly, “it may sound silly, but it’s so thoughtful and—” I choked up because the rest of the sentence was—it shows what a good dad you’ll be.
He finished sorting, showed me how he was putting the box of orange ones in front and the others were being jammed underneath with my frozen pizzas. I thanked him. Then we sat down at the table to talk. I was a little afraid of that discussion, but I wanted it just the same.
“I get that this is a huge shock to you,” I began, “and you think you want total involvement. But there’s going to be a lot. I mean, there’s doctor appointments and birth classes and then once the baby is here, they eat like every two hours. That’s a lot of lost sleep,” I warned him.
“Give me your hands,” he said, eyes trained on my belly.
I looked down and saw that I was covering my tiny bump with both hands.
“You don’t need to protect him or her from me,” he said, his voice thick with emotion.
Then he was on his knees before me, taking my hands in his. Carefully, I placed them on my belly.
“Do you want to feel?” I whispered.
“Can I?” he said.
I was trembling as I nodded. He unhitched my overalls and peeled down the bibs. I rucked up my shirt to show him the small dome, the curve of my belly where our baby was growing. Reverently, he touched the side of the small bump, his hand curving around it as gently as he’d touched my cheek moments before. He shut his eyes. His lips parted. A sweetness bloomed in my chest and I felt the most powerful urge to kiss him. But I wanted to let him have this moment of meeting the baby, of accessing that miracle the way I had been able to from the start. He kissed my belly. I couldn’t help that jolt of desire that ran through me, the knowledge that I was suddenly sensitive, wet for him. His hands were on me then, tracing my dips and curves. His mouth went to my navel and he kissed around the edge of it then dipped his tongue in that secret hollow. I squired a little in my set. He smiled.
“I have some catching up to do,” he said lifting his face.
= Tyler drew me to my feet and kissed me full on the lips, “I don’t know how long I could have waited. I can’t put it in words but I need this now. I think you need it, too. To prove to you that this—” he faltered. “Words aren’t my scene,” he said, “I’m better with action.”
Tyler carried me to my bed and set about removing my clothes. Overalls and shoes and top all pooled onto the carpet in short order. He would stop and caress my face, tuck my hair behind my ear, do something so caring, so considerate I could feel my heart breaking. When I was bare before him, aware of the changes in my body, a little shy, he dropped onto the bed as if his legs wouldn’t hold him.
“How did you get more beautiful?” he said. I felt my face flush, the heat creeping up from my neck.
“You’re wearing too many clothes,” I teased, trying to lighten the intensity that fell between us.