Chapter Twenty-Five

Lexi

Four weeks later

 

Do you know what really sucks?

Morning sickness.

Mostly because mine isn’t morning sickness at all. Oh, no. I actually get up feeling great. No nausea, no weariness. I feel fine. Not energetic or anything crazy like that, but not any of the typical things associated with pregnancy.

Now seven p.m.?

That’s a whole other story.

Like clockwork, my fatigue and nausea kicks in towards the end of my workday, which basically renders me completely useless. I’m suddenly exhausted and cranky and can’t keep anything in my belly. I’ve tried everything from herbal teas to topical oils, but nothing helps alleviate the early evening sickness that sweeps in.

Linkin has been amazing. He’s not afraid of a little puke, which is great because there seems to be quite a lot of it lately. He’s also turning pro when it comes to shoulder and foot rubs. Seriously, the man is smoking hot, has more muscles than a gym locker room, a dick that would make any man envious, and can practically evoke orgasms when he gives a foot rub.

Yep, I’m one lucky woman.

“How are you feeling today?” Ella asks from her station next to mine.

“Fabulous,” I reply, flat-ironing Maggie Drew’s long blonde hair until it’s silky and smooth.

“Oh, I heard you were pregnant,” Maggie says, watching my every move in the mirror. “Your grandma was in the boutique last week and was gushing over some of the new outfits. She’s very anxious for the baby.”

“It’s been a month and she’s already bought bags of unisex clothes and wants to go crib shopping. It seems a bit early, considering I’ve only had one doctor’s appointment. Next month, I’m scheduled for an ultrasound since their machine was down at my first one,” I say, removing the cape from my client.

“Ultrasounds! What fun. They didn’t have those things when I had my Joseph. They just came out a surprise,” Maggie adds, carefully standing up from my chair.

“I think I want to be surprised,” I say to the room at large. “There are very few real surprises in life, ya know?”

“I agree,” Ella says. “Though I’m not sure I could make it nine months without shopping for specifics. I mean, it would be so easy to shop if you knew if you were having a boy or girl.”

Very true.

“What does Linkin say?” Barb wonders.

“I’m not really sure,” I say somewhat absently. “We haven’t really discussed it.”

“Oh, there’s plenty of time for that, right?” Cecelia adds.

“Right,” everyone chimes in.

I send Maggie on her way and glance down at my schedule. I used to be able to work through lunch, but not anymore. Being pregnant has forced a bunch of changes, in addition to the physical ones to my features. The biggest change is my boobs, which Linkin seems to find great joy in. Of course, they’re sensitive enough that I find great joy in them too.

My book says I have thirty minutes until my next client, which leaves me just enough time to eat the chicken salad sandwich I brought. The bell on the door rings, announcing a visitor. When I glance up from the desk, I can’t stop the smile that spreads across my face.

Linkin.

And he brought Chinese.

The amazing aroma fills the salon and makes my mouth water. Of course, that could be the incredibly sexy man carrying the bag and wearing a smirk. “Hi,” I say as he approaches the desk.

“Hi,” he answers, stopping in front of me and setting the bag on the counter. “How’s my baby mama?”

“Suddenly starving,” I answer, grabbing for the bag of food and glancing inside. “Oh my God, you brought kung pao chicken and sautéed vegetables and rice.”

“I did,” he answers with that smirk and a twinkle in his eyes.

“Your baby mama is hungry. Very, very hungry,” I respond, opening up a Styrofoam container and stealing a piece of chicken.

“Take it in the back room before you get sauce on the appointment book,” Barb reprimands with a grin.

Gathering up the bags, careful not to spill any of the precious contents, I get up and meet Linkin around the side of the desk. He bends down and places a kiss on my lips, one I’m happy to reciprocate. “Thanks for bringing me chicken.”

“It’s not for you; it’s for the baby.” He winks before leading me through the salon and into the back room.

While I pull the containers from the bag, Linkin goes to the fridge. “Got any water in here?”

“Bottom drawer.”

He pulls two bottles of water from the fridge and meets me at the table. Like a true gentleman, he doesn’t even say anything when he realizes I’ve already dug in (without silverware). Instead he just smiles down at me and spears a piece of chicken with a plastic fork.

“Can I ask you something?” I ask with a full mouth.

“Anything.”

“Do you want to know what we’re having?”

He glances up, considering my question. “I guess if you want to know, then I’m cool with it. But it would be pretty awesome to be surprised.” His answer makes me smile.

“I kinda want to be surprised.”

“Then we’ll wait and be surprised.” That’s it. End of conversation. It makes me incredibly happy that we’re on the same page.

When we near the end of lunch, he finally asks, “Have you had any luck with the list?”

“I actually have. I’ve narrowed it down to three,” I say, pulling the sheets of paper from my bag that’s next to the table.

Linkin studies the papers carefully, mentally making his own lists of pros and cons. I watch as he keeps going back to the third paper. I hold my breath, anxious to hear what he thinks, especially since that one is my favorite.

“This one,” he says, setting the papers down on the table and pointing to the third choice. “Three bedrooms, family room in back, and a fenced in backyard.”

“That’s my choice too,” I beam happily.

“I’ll call the number and make an appointment,” he says, folding up the paper and sticking it into his pocket.

Linkin and I have shared a bed since we found out we were having a baby. After a few nights of bed-hopping between my place and his, he came to the conclusion that we needed our own place.

While I love staying at the apartment, it has never really felt like my own place. It’s Abby’s. Almost everything was hers, except for the personal effects I took with me when I left Chris. Linkin says his place has always felt more like a place to sleep and shower. He never really made it a home.

“The boys will love the backyard,” I say. Part of what attracted me to the place was the fenced in yard. Not only will that be nice with a small child, but it’ll help keep Linkin’s crazy brothers from running amuck in the neighborhood.

“Definitely. And three rooms,” he points at me. “The Knuckleheads can have a place to stay when they come over.”

Karen was able to find a full-time job with more stable hours at Blossoms and Blooms as Payton’s full-time employee. Even though she’s working day hours now, the boys still look forward to a night a week at our place. Plus, it gives Karen a night to enjoy a little peace and quiet without being slayed by a sword every five minutes.

“Exactly,” I reply, smiling.

Linkin comes around the table and kneels in front of me. “How’s my baby?” he asks softly, his hand rubbing my still-flat stomach.

“Good, so the little peanut must take after me,” I sass.

“Ha! Good isn’t one of the terms I would use to describe you,” he quips, the dirty smirk cresting his lips. “Unless we’re talking about blow jobs. Then, good definitely is on the list.”

“Good? That’s it?” I ask, fretting outrage.

“Great. Superb. Fucking awesome. The most amazing mouth to ever wrap around my cock,” he says, wrapping his hands around my neck.

“Much better,” I say before his lips claim mine. The kiss makes my toes curl and my panties damp within the first five seconds.

“How much longer?” he asks, glancing at his watch.

“My next appointment should be here in five minutes,” I reply breathlessly.

“Five minutes, huh? That gives me just enough time,” he says, that wicked little gleam in his eye that I know and love.

Linkin reaches down and pulls my flats from my feet. He starts with one and rubs the ball, before digging and massaging the arch. “That’s what I’m talking about,” I groan, my entire body relaxing into the chair. “You’re so amazing at this.”

“That’s what you said last night,” he says with a wink.

Yeah, he’s right. That’s pretty much what I say every night.