Slice of Life
Jenna walked through the doorway of The Fix on Sixth, paused, then released a long, slow sigh.
Walked?
She hadn’t walked through that doorway. She’d left the art of walking behind weeks ago.
No, today Jenna was waddling. With the occasional lapse into teetering thrown in for good measure.
“It’s worth it, though,” she whispered, her hand rubbing her huge belly. “Even if you are the reason I can’t see my ankles.”
She was rewarded with a solid kick, and she jumped, then laughed out loud. Nearby, a hipster couple exchanged a beware the crazy pregnant woman glance.
She ignored them, then hurried in a waddling sort of way toward Amanda, who was sitting at the bar chatting with Eric Shay, a wickedly hot bartender who’d somehow managed to avoid being an entrant in the Man of the Month calendar contest.
“Hey, Jenna,” he called. “What’s your pleasure? Sparkling Pineapple or Bloody Mary with Candied Bacon?”
Amanda’s eyebrows shot up to her hairline. “She can’t drink! She’s pregnant! Or are you trying to get her drunk enough that she’ll let us roll her across the room like a bowling ball?”
“You’re a hoot,” Jenna said, scowling at the bar stool. No way could she get her almost thirty-seven weeks pregnant tush up that high.
“That’s me.” Amanda winked at Eric. “Providing nightly entertainment to the masses.”
“Nightly?” Eric shot back. “I’m pretty sure the only one you’re entertaining after dark is Derek.”
“Zing!” Jenna teased. Amanda, however, just smiled happily. After years of remaining stubbornly single, she was now firmly rooted in the land of coupledom.
“What about you?” Amanda’s attention focused on Eric. “Anything cooking in your relationship repertoire?”
Jenna thrust out a foot, kicking Amanda’s shin. For months, Jenna had been trying to push Eric closer to Tiffany Russell, a waitress who Jenna happened to know had a crush on the bartender. But matchmaking was a delicate game, and in this case it was made trickier by the fact that Tiffany used to date Eric’s older brother. Any and all relationship maneuvers required chess-like planning and careful deliberation, and Amanda had all the subtlety and finesse of a sledgehammer.
A red flush crept up Eric’s neck. “Nothing really.” He cleared his throat, then looked straight at Jenna. “Go with the Bloody Mary. I don’t have any pineapples prepped.”
“Throw in some extra candied bacon, and you’ve got a deal.”
“You got it.”
The Bloody Mary recipe was unique to The Fix, and it was excellent even without vodka. But what really made the drink rock was the candied bacon garnish that Tyree, owner and chef, had created. It was like a little strip of heaven in your mouth, washed down with a splash of ambrosia.
“Go have a seat,” Eric ordered, nodding at a table. “I’ll bring it out to you.”
“And that’s why we keep you around,” she teased, making him laugh. Technically, Jenna was one of four owners of The Fix, along with the original owner, Tyree, her best friend Brent, and her other best friend-turned-husband, Reece.
Not that she’d ever presume to hire or fire a bartender. Her bailiwick was marketing. And ever since the Man of the Month campaign had reached its successful conclusion, she was feeling more than a little at loose ends.
The contest had wrapped in October, and Jenna and her team had rushed to get calendars printed, the pre-sold inventory shipped, and the open inventory stocked in the bar and other local businesses. They’d been simultaneously working on a cookbook filled with Tyree’s amazing recipes, and now both Bar Bites and the Man of the Month calendar graced the retail shelves of many an Austin boutique.
But both projects had wrapped by mid-December. Then she’d been occupied with her first Christmas as a married woman—that reality still made her giddy— and now here she was. The second day of January. A brand new year.
And she didn’t have a single idea what to do with herself.
Sure, she could whip up some flyers to promote the bar. Maybe coordinate drink specials or arrange special events surrounding some of the live bands. But the Man of the Month contest had been her brainchild, and it had turned into a big deal. A citywide event. Something that folks talked about on social media and chatted about with their friends. The guys—winners and contestants—were recognized around the town. All in all, it had been a triumph.
And she had absolutely no idea how she was supposed to follow her own success.
“What’s with you?” Amanda asked as they settled in at one of the two-tops near the bar. “You’ve gone from perky to pensive. Something wrong? Or is it hormones? I know it’s not Reece.”
At the mention of his name, Jenna’s mood lifted. “No,” she agreed. “Not a thing wrong there. Right, peanut? Your daddy’s pretty much perfect.” She smiled down at her belly, and when she looked up, a minor miracle took place. Not only did Eric deliver her drink that very second, but Reece stepped out of the back hallway and entered the bar at the far end of the room.
He was yards and yards away from her, but it didn’t matter. Even across the cavernous bar—even despite the happy hour crowd that filled the room and kept blocking him from her sight—even then, she could feel him. Could sense him.
The heat of him. The power. The strength…and the tenderness.
With his shaved head, shadowy beard, broad shoulders, and rock hard muscles, Reece Walker was the kind of man who never lacked for attention. Add in the intricate tats that covered his chest, back, and arms—today only visible emerging from the short sleeves of his T-shirt—and he radiated a dangerous sex appeal, like a bad boy biker on a mission to ravage a woman.
Her whole body tightened in response to that particular thought, and as she rubbed her hand over her belly, Technicolor memories of the reason she was in this particular state filled her mind, making her breasts ache and her sex throb with such an intense need that she squirmed on the chair, disguising the sudden, demanding sexual craving by reaching for another piece of candied bacon.
The pregnancy hormones were doing a number on her; she was certain of that. She was ridiculously horny all the time. A little fact that really hadn’t bothered her husband one bit.
But this wasn’t a hormone reaction. This was a Reece reaction. The man called to her without saying a word. Possessed her without using his hands. Captured her with only his eyes.
They’d started out as best friends, and thank God they still fit that definition. But they were so much more.
“Hey, Beautiful,” he said, reaching for her. With one hand, he pulled her to her feet. The other he spread wide over her belly. “I missed you both.”
Warmth and love spread through her, and she laughed lightly. “I’ve only been gone a few hours.” She’d cut out that morning to go check on the various retailers stocking the calendar and to talk with the printer about a second print run since sales were so high.
“That’s a few too long.”
“You two have crossed the line from sappy to downright gooey,” Amanda said, her lips twitching with amusement. “You know that, right?”
“I’ve seen you with Derek,” Jenna countered. “I’d say you two are contenders for the title in the sappy and gooey department.”
“Nothing wrong with sappy,” Reece said. And before either Jenna or Amanda could answer, he pulled Jenna close. Her very pregnant belly pressed against his tight, firm body as his arm curled around her non-existent waist to hold her steady. And then, with a passion that made her knees go weak, his mouth claimed hers, hot and wild, and full of demand and promise.
“Wow,” she said when he slowly drew back. “What was that for?”
“A preview,” he said. “Come on, baby. I’m taking you home.”
* * * *
“You’re being unfair, you know,” Jenna complained as Reece maneuvered their shiny new-to-them Volvo into the driveway of Reece’s father’s home. She missed driving her 1972 El Camino that Reece had fixed up for her almost as much as she missed Blue, his restored Chevy truck. But about five minutes into her fourth trimester, Reece had dragged her to a car lot, insisting that they have a newer, safer car now that they had the baby to think about.
She’d burst into tears—damn hormones—and blubbered about how much she loved him for taking care of her and the baby.
As for the other cars… Well, she’d fit behind the wheel eventually.
Now, Reece parked the Volvo next to Blue, then turned to face her, his brow furrowed. “Unfair?”
“A kiss like that, an announcement that we’re going home—honestly, Reece, I’m so on edge right now I’d straddle you in the driver’s seat and fuck you silly, except for the fact that I can’t fit behind the wheel.”
“Christ, Jenna…” The heat in his voice was unmistakable, and it curled through her, soaking her panties and making her already aching breasts tighten with a wild, demanding need.
“Yeah, well, I didn’t want it to be just me that was suffering. You were at Dr. Blake’s this morning, too. No more sex, remember?” Apparently semen could induce labor. And her doctor wanted her to make it full term.
A devious grin slid over Reece’s mouth. “I was there. And I talked with Dr. B while you were getting dressed.”
“And?”
“And I’m taking you inside.”
She frowned, confused. But she also wanted out of the car. So she let him come around to get the door, and then they headed into the house.
For years, Reece had been living in the apartment above the garage, and she’d moved in when they got together. Small but cozy, the place was perfect for two. It would be a little bit crowded with an infant, but they’d make do, and Jenna did love the place. Reece had refurbished it, and the interior gleamed.
Not that they were staying in the apartment now. For the last month, Reece and Jenna had been living inside Charlie and Enid Walker’s house, simply because the stairs to the apartment were steep, and she was getting winded and light- headed every time she climbed them. Fortunately, Charlie and his girlfriend, Enid, had gone to Vegas to tie the knot, then they were driving to California to go to Disneyland, Monterrey, and San Francisco.
They promised they’d be back by the time the baby was born, but until then, Jenna and Reece had the house to themselves. They’d entered through the kitchen, and now they moved to the guest bedroom—a room that used to be Reece’s when he was a teen, and where Jenna and Brent had spent many hours hanging out with Reece, listening to music, and talking their way through all the world’s problems.
At the moment, Jenna’s only problem was the fact that Reece wasn’t touching her—and the fact that doctor’s orders meant that he couldn’t touch her the way she wanted. “You’re mean for teasing me, you know,” she said. “Somehow, I’m going to extract my revenge.”
“Hold that thought,” he said, then he stepped closer to her and with slow, deliberate movements, he pushed her coat off her shoulders, letting it fall carelessly to the floor. She hadn’t buttoned it—for January, it wasn’t that cold, and lately she was running so hot that the winter air felt good against her skin.
She was hot now, too, but in a different sort of way. Hot and itchy and so keenly needy that she actually had to fight to keep from whimpering. “Reece,” she whispered. “Please. We can’t.”
“Oh, but we can.” His fingers moved to the buttons of her shirt as his lips teased at the corner of her mouth, then traced gently along the curve of her jaw before easing down to her neck. Shivers ran through her, following a path of tiny electric threads that connected all of her erogenous zones. Except, dammit, he’d turned her entire body into an erogenous zone, and every touch, every kiss, every caress was making her more and more wet, more and more hungry for him to take her. To fill her.
Now she really did whimper, and she felt his answering smile as his lips brushed the curve of her breast.
“Ree—”
“Hush,” he ordered. “No more words. Just close your eyes and let me handle this.”
She wanted to protest even as she wanted to submit—and it was submission that won out. She wanted this. Hell, she needed it. To feel his hands on her, his lips against her skin. And when he pushed back the halves of her shirt to bare her to her bra, she moaned from nothing more than the pleasure of the cool air against her overheated skin.
“I love your breasts like this,” he said.
“Huge, you mean?”
“Ripe.” He met her eyes. “Not that I didn’t love the smaller version. Normally, your tits fit perfectly into my hands. But to see you like this, and to know it’s because you’re going to have our baby. Jenna, I—”
“Kiss me,” she demanded, her body—no, her soul—craving him. He didn’t disappoint, and he pressed hard against her, her belly making the kiss a little more complicated, but no less heated. And as his tongue teased and danced with hers, his nimble fingers went to the very stretchy waistband of her boring-but-comfortable maternity pants.
He slid them down, taking her panties along with them. He broke the kiss so that he could ease down as he undressed her, holding her steady as she slipped out of her shoes and pants.
He stayed there for a moment, kneeling on the floor, his face tilted back to look up at her. The large belly, her heavy breasts still in the less-than-sexy bra. And there was such awe and hunger in his expression that she felt like the most desirable woman on the planet.
“Reece, please. You’re making me crazy, but we can’t—”
“Take off the bra and get on the bed,” he ordered in a tone that brooked no argument.
She did as he told her, trembling when he stretched out beside her, his hands caressing her bare skin, making rocket flares of awareness shoot through her. He was torturing her, no doubt about that, but it was such sweet torture, and right then, she never wanted it to end.
Gently, his hands brushed over her breasts, his fingers teasing her oh-so- sensitive nipples. She gasped a little, arching up as if to escape the overload of sensations the simple touch launched inside her. “Reece,” she murmured, but that was the entire thought. He’d filled her head. He was all she felt. It was just her and him and the wonderful things he was doing to her.
After a moment, he shifted. His mouth replaced his hands, his tongue teasing her sensitive nipple as his fingers moved lower, tracing random patterns on her belly. Then lower still, easing around the mound of her belly to settle between her legs. Just the slightest flicker of a finger over her clit, but it was enough to send strands of pure electricity racing between his finger and his mouth, the heat of his touch connecting her from sex to breast, and then branching out to fill her.
“Please,” she said, overwhelmed by the sensations. But that was all she could manage. He swirled his tongue around her nipple, and the resulting awareness in her built between her legs, taking her so close to the edge.
She’d never been a woman who could reach orgasm from a man playing with her breasts, but pregnancy had definitely taken her closer to that state, because she was close now, and it was everything she could do not to beg Reece to fuck her, no matter how much she wanted it.
No penetration, Dr. Blake had said. It could induce an early labor.
She whimpered, hating how much she wanted what she couldn’t have. Her body was so alive right then, and she wanted her husband inside her. But if she couldn’t have that…
“Reece, please.” Jenna wasn’t even sure what she was asking for. More? Release? His body pressed hard against hers?
He didn’t give her time to figure it out, though. Instead, he moved his mouth south, trailing gentle kisses over the mound of her pregnancy, his fingers following his lips, reducing every part of her that wasn’t already on fire to ashes.
And then—oh, God, and then—he gently lifted her knees as he spread her legs, and before she could even release a startled little gasp, she felt the brush of his beard stubble on her overly sensitive skin. Then his tongue flicking over her clit. And then, oh, yes, his mouth closed fully over her and his fingers thrust inside her.
It was wild. Hot. And so damned overwhelming. She wanted to squirm away because it was just too much. She wanted to stay right there, because she wanted more. She wanted to break apart—and, yes, she wanted Reece to put her back together.
And then whatever she wanted was moot, because it was all upon her. Her breasts tightened, and her body stiffened, and starlight poured over her, breaking her open, lifting her up.
She reached for Reece, calling his name, and he took her hand. She squeezed, holding tight to the man she loved, letting him anchor her so she could find her way back after she exploded into the stars.
“Christ, you’re incredible,” he murmured as she came back down to earth.
A lazy smile flitted across her face. “Me? I was going to say the same thing about you.”
The mattress shifted as he moved up beside her, then pushed a lock of hair off her face. “I love you,” he said.
“I love you, too.” She glanced down at his rock-hard erection now pressing against her hip. “I could get on my knees…”
A slow, teasing grin touched his lips. “You could. But you’d never get up again.”
Couldn’t argue with that…but even so…
“But I want—” she began, only to be silenced with a kiss.
“Roll over,” he ordered, then helped her get settled on her side, hugging the body pillow she’d bought for support.
He pressed up behind her, his body warm against her back. “This is what I want. To fall asleep like this, my cock hard against your ass, and you in my arms.”
“Yeah?” Sleep was dragging her under.
He kissed the back of her neck.
“Baby, right now there’s nothing on this earth I want more.”
* * * *
Jenna woke to the smell of pancakes, cursed Reece for not waking her earlier so she could change, then decided not to bother. Their only guests were Brent, Elena, and Faith, after all. Considering Brent was the third leg of the Reece- Jenna-Brent friendship, he’d seen her at her best and her worst, and would hardly be shocked by either the messy state of her long red hair or her extremely ratty but completely comfortable terrycloth robe.
As for Elena, well, because she was Tyree’s daughter, she’d been practically family from the day she walked through the doors at The Fix. And, Jenna knew, Brent had been attracted to her from that first day, too. Not hard to see why. With her lovely dark skin, wide eyes, and gorgeous cheekbones, Elena Johnson could be working as a model instead of studying to be an urban planner. But while her looks might have attracted Brent, it was her wit and intelligence that had reeled him in.
This was the first time she’d come over for weekend brunch, though. But being with Brent meant that Elena was part of the inner circle now. And Jenna couldn’t have been more thrilled.
So surely she’d deal with the bathrobe.
And as for Faith…
“Aunt Jenna!” The six-year-old’s squeals echoed through the house, and Jenna laughed as Faith pounded down the long hall from the kitchen to the bedroom, then stopped short before leaping into Jenna’s arms.
“Daddy said I couldn’t jump,” she announced.
“Probably smart of Daddy. Wouldn’t want us both to topple over backward. I know I’d never get up.”
Faith laughed, then tentatively held out a hand. At Jenna’s nod, she pressed it gingerly against Jenna’s belly, then squeaked when she was rewarded with a sharp kick.
“She kicked me!” Faith skipped back toward the kitchen, delighted. “Daddy! Elena! She likes me!”
“She might be a he,” Elena said. She was scooping Faith up into her lap as Jenna finally waddled into the kitchen. “Hey! Good morning!”
“Someone let me sleep too long.” Jenna shot a fake scowl toward Reece, who was busy with the pancakes and bacon.
Brent lifted his head to grin at her, his ripped arms bulging under the white T-shirt. At the moment, those perfect muscles were being put to good use setting the table. “I’m pretty sure that robe’s older than you are,” he said. “Didn’t your mom used to wear it?”
“No comment.” Jenna felt a little twinge; her mom was living in Florida now, but had plans to fly out as soon as the baby was born to help. Jenna couldn’t wait to see her again. And hopefully, she wouldn’t want her robe back.
“Want me to make you a decaf?” Elena asked as Faith wriggled back to the ground.
“Just juice,” she said, taking the one on the counter that Reece was pointing to, already poured and ready for her.
“I’m sorry.” Faith spoke in the kind of whisper that carried, her little hand tugging on Jenna’s robe.
“What are you sorry for, sweetie?” Elena asked as she stood and walked toward Jenna.
Faith’s eyes went wide. Out of everyone in the room, Faith was the only one who knew that Jenna was having a girl. Reece had said he wanted to be surprised, but Jenna had wanted to know—although keeping the secret was ridiculously hard, especially since Reece had told her he was hoping for a little girl.
All of their friends had followed Reece’s lead, and Jenna had been about to bust with the secret. Then one night she was babysitting Faith and the little girl asked whether the baby would be a boy or a girl.
They’d entered into a secret pact, involving drinking the sparkling light of the stars (Sprite) and eating the core of the earth (crushed Oreos). And then Jenna had told Faith that the baby was a little girl.
Now, Faith looked about to cry.
“She’s not supposed to run in Charlie’s halls,” Jenna explained, flashing a quick smile to Faith as she tapped the end of the little girl’s nose. “But she won’t do it again, will you?”
“Nope.” Faith shook her head, obviously relieved.
“I think you should tell Elena that she should be the one cooking,” Jenna said to Faith, mostly to distract the girl.
“I should? But Uncle Reece always cooks.”
“He does. But did you know that Elena is cooking with Tyree now? Do you want to watch later?”
“Is Uncle Tyree coming over?”
Brent laughed. “No, Short Stuff. Some other time. But Elena and Tyree sometimes tape it when they’re experimenting with recipes. And then they put it on YouTube.”
Faith jumped up and down, clapping her hands. “I wanna watch! Can we?”
Jenna caught Elena’s eye. “That cool with you?”
“Sure. I make a fool of myself half the time, but it’s fun learning to cook with my dad.”
“A fool, my ass,” Brent retorted. “She’s a natural. Which means I’m going to have to go to the gym twice as much.”
Elena moved to his side and kissed his cheek. “Don’t worry, baby. If your muscles go soft, you still have your sparkling personality.”
He pulled her close and bussed her neck, making her squeal. He peeked over her shoulder at Jenna, then winked. “Ticklish,” he said. “My secret weapon.”
At the oven, Reece chuckled, then ordered them to get a room.
Faith, looking around at the grownups, appeared uncertain as to whether she should be laughing or leaving. Finally, she went to Jenna and tugged on her robe. “Can I go play in the backyard until breakfast?”
“Sure,” Jenna said. She glanced at Reece, remembering that his circular saw and other tools were still set up out there from where he was working on Charlie and Enid’s bathroom cabinets. A quick, silent conversation passed between them, then Jenna smiled down at Faith again. “Why don’t I go with you? Elena, you want to come too? We can leave the guys to their manly kitchen chores.”
“I don’t know. If we leave, we might miss Brent in an apron.”
“Don’t worry, sweetheart,” Brent shot back. “If you want, I’ll wear an apron tonight.” He lowered his voice. “Just an apron.”
Elena blew him a kiss. “Mister, you have a deal.”
Once in the backyard, Jenna and Elena sat on the metal glider while Faith headed for the sandbox. “Thanks for having me over. I know weekend breakfast was always sacred for the three of you.”
“Are you kidding? You’re with Brent now.” She tilted her head, trying to read
Elena’s expression from the side. “I mean, you guys are good, right?”
Elena turned to meet Jenna’s gaze head on. “We’re perfect,” she said, and a wide smile bloomed, the kind designed to tug at Jenna’s heart.
Jenna took her hand and squeezed. “I’m so glad,” she said, meaning it with all her heart.
“Me, too.” Elena leaned back with a sigh, her eyes on Faith. “It’s good to be a couple, isn’t it?”
“Yeah,” Jenna agreed. “It’s the absolute best.”
* * * *
Reece parked the Volvo at the edge of the property, but kept the engine running and both hands on the wheel. He had no idea why he was nervous— after all, this was Jenna. His wife, his love, his best friend—but he couldn’t deny that right then the last thing he wanted to do was get out of that car.
“Are we parking?” Jenna shifted a little in her seat, but she was so pregnant she couldn’t shift too much. “Because honestly, the bed was a lot more comfortable for that kind of activity.”
He chuckled, but kept his eyes on her. Damn, but she was lovely. Her pale skin seemed paler now, and not just because it was winter. He thought she had more freckles, too, and the urge to lean toward her and kiss every one of them was almost overwhelming.
After a moment, she frowned, then reached for his hand. “Reece? What is it?”
Now or never. And honestly, what did he have to be nervous about? She already knew about this plot of land—an entire acre on Lake Austin, just off City Park Road and only minutes from downtown. He’d been holding onto it for years, ever since he’d grabbed it in a foreclosure sale.
What she didn’t know was that he wanted to break ground soon. Wanted to build a house. A home. And that he had the plans all made up for exactly that.
“I want to show you something,” he said, then told her to wait while he went around the car to open the door for her.
“I hope it’s not a picnic,” she said. “Because it’s a little chilly. And because once I sit down on a blanket, I’m never getting up again.”
He laughed, but he could tell by the way she looked at him that the sound was hollow.
“Reece? What’s going on?”
“Okay, come here.” He took her hand and walked a few yards toward the water. “Kitchen,” he said. “Big open windows with a view of the backyard. Fenced, of course, and toddler friendly. And then the bedroom over here,” he added, leading her toward the right. “Still a view, of course. And from the bathroom, too, with the kind of glass that turns foggy or clear at a punch of a button.”
“You’ve been playing with your house design again.”
He nodded, then pulled out his phone. “More than playing.” He opened up a picture of blueprints. “One of Amanda’s architect friends did a rough elevation for me, along with a floorplan. What do you think?”
She looked from the phone to him and then back to the phone again. “I think it looks amazing. But Reece—” She closed her hand over his upper arm. “I don’t want to spoil your dream, but if you’re thinking we should do this now… Sweetheart, we can’t afford it.”
And this was the part that made him nervous. “Actually, we can. If that’s what we want to use the money for.”
“What money?”
“You know The Fix is staying open, obviously.”
“Sure.”
The bar was fine now, but near the end of the year, it had been touch and go, and for a while, Reece had truly feared that The Fix was going to die a fast, painful death. Now, however, all was well. He had a job he loved, a wife he worshiped, and a baby on the way.
He wanted a house for all of them.
But only if Jenna wanted it, too.
He drew a breath. “Well, Tyree pulled me aside yesterday—Brent, too—and repaid the money we’d put into the partnership. And with that money as a down payment, we could get a mortgage now and build our dream house.”
Her lips pressed together before she exhaled slowly. “It’s a lot of money. A lot of debt. What if…” She trailed off with a shake of her head.
“What?”
“What if we lose customers? What if the bar starts to go under again? Bodacious is still a huge competition,” she added, referring to the downtown Austin location of a corporate chain bar.
“If that happens, then we find other jobs.” He lifted her chin so that she was looking in his eyes. “But I want our baby to grow up in a house. Hell, I wish it were already built, but if we start soon, it’ll be up within a year. Eighteen months at most. And this is where he or she will learn to walk. Ride a bike. Fish. Swim.” He drew a breath. “Baby, I want that.”
He saw her throat move as she swallowed. “I do. Oh, God, yes, I do. I’m just—”
“What?”
“Afraid.” She looked up at him, her green eyes big and round. He saw the tears fill them, and his heart started to break. He had no idea what it was that was scaring her—motherhood, married life, work, construction—but he didn’t care. He would do whatever it took to take that fear from her eyes.
“Of what?” He took her hands in his, his eyes hard on her face.
“Of me. Of screwing up.”
His heart twisted a little. “Oh, baby. You’re going to be an amazing mom.”
Her smile lit her up from the inside. “Damn right I am.” She drew a breath. “But I’m not sure about work. The Man of the Month contest did so great. How am I supposed to top that?”
“That’s what you’re scared of? You don’t have to top it.”
“I do—or at least I need a campaign. Something to keep it out there. To keep the bar in people’s minds. I have to, Reece. Otherwise why do I even have a job?”
He could argue with her, but he didn’t. He understood too well what she meant, and he knew Jenna too well to think that she’d be satisfied simply planning flyers for the bar. She needed an event to manage. She needed to not only feel like she was making a difference, she needed to actually make one.
“You’ll think of it,” he said, then kissed her gently. “When you least expect it, something will come to you. I have nothing but faith in you,” he said, the truth coming easily off his lips. “You amaze me every day. You’ll amaze me with this, too.”
* * * *
Faith.
Out of everything he said, that was the word that stuck in Jenna’s head.
Now, she looked up into Reece’s eyes and knew without any doubt that what he said was true. He did have faith in her. A hell of a lot more than she had in herself. But that was okay, because so long as he had her back, she could get through anything.
“You really think so?” she asked, even though she knew he really did. It wasn’t just words with Reece. He believed in her…just like she believed in him.
“I do,” he said, the echo of their wedding vows making her smile.
“I do, too,” she said. “And if you think we can make this house work now, then absolutely yes. I want our family to have a home.”
Surprise, then relief, then love washed over his face, and she leaned against him as he put an arm around her and they both looked out toward the water. “Big kitchen windows, right?”
“The biggest.”
“Is there a balcony off the master bedroom?”
He chuckled. “There will be after the next go-round.”
She tilted her head up for a kiss. “You’re easy, Mister. I’ve got you wrapped around my little finger.”
“You do,” he said, and when he kissed her, it felt like her whole body was opening up, as if she—
“Jenna?”
She could taste her own panic as she felt the liquid stream down her thighs. Terrified, she looked down, but it was clear. Not blood. Clear.
But she wasn’t even at thirty-seven weeks yet, and her doctor wanted her to go to term. “Jenna!”
“My water broke.” Her voice was so soft. How could he hear if her voice was so soft? “It’s way too early, Reece, but I think my water broke.”
“Get in the car. Right now.” He was already bustling her in as he talked, his natural need and ability to take care of people and things going in full force.
She settled in, then hugged herself, trying to keep terror from creeping in. Lots of women delivered a few weeks early. Surely it would all be okay.
“It will,” he said, obviously reading her mind. “The baby’s going to be just fine.”
She nodded, and then everything turned to a blur as she concentrated only on hanging on as he whipped the very zippy Volvo in and out of traffic that was, thankfully, light on this early Saturday afternoon.
“It will be okay,” he said again, the repetition making her realize that he was nervous, too. “It will. The baby’s cooked long enough.”
Cooked.
“That’s it,” she said, taking a deep breath as a contraction wracked her body. “That’s perfect.”
He tapped his hand impatiently on the steering wheel as they stopped at a light. “What are you talking about?”
“For The Fix. We can do cooking contests. Or people can submit their recipes and Tyree and Elena can make them, and if customers like them, they go on the menu. Or—” She was thinking as she was talking, her spinning thoughts distracting her from her fear. “Or maybe we can talk to the network about doing another show. Like one of those cooking shows and combine that with a taste- off. Tyree puts his recipes up against the competition.”
The light changed, and Reece zipped back into traffic. “This is what you’re thinking of now?”
She grimaced, her body clenching as another contraction rocked through her, but she nodded, too. “Yes, don’t you get it?” The contraction passed and she smiled up at him. “I don’t know the details yet, but I’ve got the idea. I’ve caught it, and I won’t let go.”
Her smile widened, and she felt positively radiant. Both hands rested on her belly, all her fear fading away. “It’s all good now. Everything’s going to be just fine.”
* * * *
Reece’s heart flipped over in his chest as the nurse handed him the small bundle and he looked down into the face of his perfect little daughter.
He’d been terrified when Jenna’s water had broken early, but as soon as she’d made her pronouncement in the car—everything’s going to be just fine—a weight had lifted from him.
She’d known.
Call it woman’s intuition, a bit of mommy wisdom, or just a lucky guess, but she’d known. And thank God for that.
Reece just wished he’d realized it sooner. He’d been frantic pulling into the hospital, then kicked himself when he realized he should have called the doctor from the car. But Jenna had been calm, telling him it was all good, and they’d meet their baby soon.
Soon, of course, was a relative term. They’d entered the hospital at almost three on Saturday. It was now just past nine in the morning on Sunday.
All through the day and night, he’d held Jenna’s hand, telling her silly stories, encouraging her to breathe, assuring her that he was right there. And all the while making silent bargains with the universe that it really would be okay.
When Dr. Blake showed up and added his thumbs-up to Jenna’s assessment, Reece had relaxed a little—then tensed up all over again when he saw the intensity of Jenna actually giving birth. The nurse had told him it was relatively easy compared to some mothers’ labors, but Reece hadn’t truly felt calm until he’d held his daughter in his arms.
“She’s beautiful,” he said now to Jenna. “Just as gorgeous as her mother.”
“Flatterer.” Her smile was wide, but tired. Her long red hair hung in limp strands around her face. Her eyes were bloodshot and shadowed with dark circles. None of that registered, though. As far as Reece was concerned, she glowed.
Reluctantly, he passed the swaddled little girl to Jenna, then sat on the edge of the bed so that he could slide an arm around his wife as they both gazed adoringly at their newborn. “We never picked out a name.”
“What do you think of Ami? You know, like Amy’s Ice Cream, only spelled with an I.”
“Isn’t that the French word for friend?”
“Yup,” she said, leaning her head on his shoulder and twisting a bit to look at him. “All things considered, I thought it was appropriate.”
“Yes,” he said, looking at the woman who was his best friend, his lover, his wife. And now the mother of his child. “I love you,” he said, because he just couldn’t hold the words in any longer. “And I think that Ami is the perfect name for our girl.”
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