Opening the front door after a long day at the boutique, I’m greeted by the tangy smell of tomatoes and garlic with an undercurrent of porky deliciousness that tells me it’s the good stuff. It smells divine and my now almost eight-months-pregnant stomach immediately rumbles to be fed.

Amazingly, only a few months ago, this smell would’ve sent me running for the hills to toss my cookies since I couldn’t enjoy my favorite pasta, even if I could cook it, which I can’t. I’m a lot of things, but a gourmet cook isn’t one of them, and the smell of cooking in my kitchen was a warning for the neighbors to call the fire department. But now . . . it smells like heaven.

And it’s all due to one man. “Nic? Whatever you made for dinner smells amazing. It’s my new favorite.”

There’s a laugh from around the corner and Nic steps out of the kitchen with a smile, waving to me. “Yeah guys, that’s Rose. No, I haven’t been hiding her from you Mom. Here.”

Nic turns his phone around, and I see two people on his screen. One of them is definitely Nic’s father, so I can only assume that the smiling woman with him is Nic’s mother. “Hi. . . uh, I’m Rose.”

“Yes, Nicolas has been telling us about you for the past half hour,” his mom says, smiling. “We’re so excited to meet you and our granddaughter!” Her voice goes high and a little wild as she says ‘granddaughter’ and I’m glad she seems excited, not upset at the situation. “Welcome to the family, honey. I’m glad to see I raised my son right.”

“You’ve done more than that,” I assure her. We start talking about Nic as a boy, their myriad of adventures, and how she worried he’d never settle down. All in all, it’s a wonderful first meeting with Nic’s parents, if all too short.

“Okay, well one of the drawbacks of our lifestyle is limited internet, but unlimited minutes,” Nic’s dad says. “And we’ve got a date with a meteor shower tonight at dusk, so we need to run. You look famished, so we’ll cut this short for now so that boy of mine can feed you dinner. Rose, it was such a pleasure to meet you.”

“You guys too,” I say, grinning as Nic starts plating dinner in the background. “By the way, whoever taught him to cook, thank you.”

The call ends with them promising to see us soon. I set the phone down with a smile, glad that went so well, and turn to admire my man. He’s still in his gym clothes, probably relishing the slightly unseasonal warmth, but to me I just like seeing his arms and chest rippling with muscle in his tank top.

And he can cook, how perfect is that? “So, you’ve got two plates of heaven for me?”

Nic laughs. “You haven’t even tasted it yet, how could you know it’s heaven?”

“If it tastes half as good as it smells, it’s got to be close,” I tell him, finally undoing my jacket to hang it up on the coat rack. “How was your day, besides the talk with your folks?”

Walking over, he plants a big kiss on me, tongue and all, definitely not bad for a pre-dinner appetizer. “Much better now. Not that it was bad before, but… well, seeing you makes the day near perfect. So, you up for some linguini with my secret tomato sauce?”

“Can’t wait,” I reply, feeling Amelia turn in my tummy. She’s so big we’ve actually been able to watch her squirm now, it’s sort of weird and wonderful at the same time. “Just give me time to get to the table.”

Nic shakes his head and guides me towards the living room. “Have a seat on the couch, I’ll bring yours to you. There’s dessert too, chocolate pudding.”

Not needing to be told twice, I plop down and perch my feet on the edge of the coffee table. “You’re a figment of my imagination, aren’t you?” I call out, earning another laugh. “Nope, no way are you this good. I’ve got to be imagining that you worked all day and made dinner and are serving me. I’ve officially gone off the deep end.”

Nic calls out from the kitchen, a playful note in his voice. “Nope, not imagining things. I’m just buttering you up.”

Oh, shit, what’s he got up his sleeve now? I was teasing about his working all day and still handling dinner, since really, in the last few months, that’s become our standard operating procedure.

It’s been two months of bliss in a lot of ways. After he got back from Maine and we had our ‘Come to Jesus’ talk, along with mind-blowing sex afterward, Nic has been with me every step of the way. He’s cut way back on his travel and has spent the majority of the last few weeks permanently delegating his accounts over to his sales guys and taking on a more managerial role versus his usual more hands-on approach.

I know it’s been tough on him, mostly because he’s put himself under a lot of pressure. I don’t know what the deal is with his boss, but Nic hasn’t complained. Still, he’s trying to please everyone when all I want him to be is . . . him.

There have been two overnight trips where he went almost as much to teach as to be the salesman, from what he told me. He’s shown the ropes to his newer associates, introducing the new agents around and making sure the right people are getting to know each other. Mostly, though, he’s spent the past two months working out of the house, remote officing everything possible while I run the Mountain Rose.

At the end of the day, we meet for dinner. Sometimes, he brings takeout, but most nights are like tonight where he cooks. I guess I shouldn’t be surprised he’s an amazing cook and an even better griller. Nic’s joked that his skills come from all the campfire cooking he’s done. “When the only thing you’ve got is a survival knife, two sheets of tinfoil, and some stuff you dug up in the woods . . . you get creative.”

Creative, indeed, and so far, no ‘mystery mushrooms’ from the nearby woods. Bringing in the plates, he sets them on the coffee table and sits down beside me, handing me a wineglass of sparkling water. “My lady.”

“Ooh, fancy,” I reply, sipping my Perrier. “You’re pulling out all the stops here, mister. What’s up?”

There’s a tiny piece of me that’s worried because as awesome as Nic has been lately, I know that he’s still a bit of a wanderer and I sometimes feel like I’m waiting for the other shoe to drop, especially after hearing his parents talk about going here and there and the magic of meteor showers. And here in Great Falls, it’s just. . . me. The stress of his job and, from what I understand, the loss of his sales commissions, have to be weighing on him. But I’m putting my faith in him, and so far, we’ve done awesomely. If anything, I’ve told him numerous times that we’re a team. The Mountain Rose is continuing to do well, and we’ll be fine. I think my reassurances have helped. At least, they seem to.

“I checked a few more boxes off the to-do list today,” Nic says as he tells me about his day. “Well, I got a good workout this morning, and yeah, I know I’m still dressed, but you see . . . the nursery is done.”

“That’s great news!” I cheer, knowing Nic’s been working hard to try and get everything squared away there. “Even the crib?”

“Double-checked and verified by Brad himself. He said that he’s got your baby shower under control and not to worry about a thing. I signed over two more contracts to my team for monitoring and support, just one big one left. And—”

I interrupt with a smile, knowing where this is leading. “And that one deal is why you’re buttering me up?”

He nods, and I lean back against the couch, looking at him expectantly. “That obvious?”

“A little. All right, well hand me a piece of garlic bread. Nothing can be that bad with garlic bread in my mouth.”

He smiles and hands me a slice, waiting till I take a big bite and wave my hand for him to continue.

“This last contract is the one I want to keep as my own. It’s not about the sale itself. Their monetary value really is small potatoes compared to some of the other contracts I’ve handed off. I want to keep this because I like the couple that runs the company a lot. They’re the ones out in Oregon I told you about. And well, they’re sort of a sentimental place for me because of some of the stuff they told me.”

I search my mind for a second then make the connection, as Nic mentioned it one night when we went for a moonlit walk. “Sam and Susan, right? The off-grid adventure tours?”

Nic nods, smiling a little. “That’s them. Look, for me to be able to stay home for a while with you and Amelia after the birth, I need to make a trip out there to do a meet-and-greet and make sure everything's running smoothly. And with your being thirty-two weeks now, I need to do it sooner rather than later and as fast as possible to get back.”

“That’s it? You need to run to Oregon for a quick trip?” I ask, surprised. I thought this was a big deal or something, what with the spread he’s got in front of me. “What’s the catch?”

Nic tilts his head, and I can see that he’s got more to tell. “Well, ‘quick trip’ is relative here. These guys are totally off-grid. Last time, I spent a few weeks there all told with getting there, the sales and stuff, and then ferrying back and forth to a damn internet connection to get it done and then back. Don’t worry, though. This isn’t anything like that. But I’ll need at least a week . . . and I’ll miss the baby shower.”

I smile, relieved. “It’s okay, honey.”

“Are you sure?”

I nod, taking his hand. “I’m sure. I’m sad you’ll miss the shower, but I’d rather have you here after Amelia is born to change poopy diapers and to deal with my hormones going apeshit again. I’ll be using this as a bargaining chip for a long time, Daddy. Brad and Trey can help me get to and from the shower and take care of me for a week if I need anything. Devon is doing great at the shop, and Dr. Stevens says everything looks great so I’m still fine to work for a few weeks. It’ll be fine.”

Nic lets out a big puff of breath, the tension leaving his shoulders. “God, I’m so glad you’re okay with it. I really don’t want to leave you, and I knew that’d be a hard thing for you to handle, but I need to do this so that we can hibernate after Amelia is here, just turn off the phones and disconnect from the world to be our own little family. I just want you to know that I don’t want to go, but I need to so that I don’t have to leave for a long time after this.”

“I get it, and I do appreciate how much work you’ve done to stay here with me and to plan ahead to be here for Amelia,” I reply. “I can handle a week apart when I’ve got at least six weeks to go.”

He leans in to give me a kiss, smacks and sweetness, and whispers in my ear, “I love you.”

The words still thrill me, and I kiss him back, loving the tenderness in his every move. “I love you too.”

He lowers down to my belly, pushing my oversized maternity top up to kiss my belly too. It makes me giggle. I’m unfortunately very ticklish recently, but he knows just how to do it so that I’m not laughing out of control and peeing myself.

Talking to my belly, he croons to Amelia. “Daddy will be back before you know it. Be nice to Momma while I’m gone, okay?”

Unable to resist, I lift my belly up a little toward him and mimic a little kid voice. “Only if you feed me some of that damn spaghetti right now. Bitches gotta eat.”

Nic shakes his head, leaning back and putting his hand to his forehead like some sort of wannabe Southern belle. “Oh, my poor ears! The mouth on this kid already. She’s gonna be a spoiled brat if Brad has anything to do with it. Look what he’s done to you.”

He smirks like he got me good, but he still goes to my plate and twirls up a forkful of pasta that looks so delicious I’m thinking I’m the winner here either way.