Though I’d spent my share of time entertaining the thought of being Jensen’s girlfriend, I never could have anticipated what the real thing would be like. I told him we could try to keep things professional in the office, allowing him to hide our relationship if he chose, but he seemed not to care who saw our blossoming love. Loving kisses and gentle touches to my stomach became routine in the office, and if he could’ve had his way, he likely never would have spent a moment away from me.

There was still work to be done, however. While I was comforted by the idea of not having to raise our child alone, I wanted to bring something to the table. Something beyond, well, carrying our child. My rapidly growing stomach made it increasingly difficult to remain seated at my desk, as much as I tried, and I spent some time just trying to relieve the pain in my back from the extra weight I was carrying.

It seemed strange that I was gaining so much weight so very quickly. I could only attribute it to the fact that Jensen had been treating me to special dinners whenever possible. We’d been to each of the most expensive restaurants in town, though that night he planned to take me to the place it had all started, the Cerf Blanc. My heart warmed at the thought of revisiting the place our relationship had unofficially started. I planned to have the same thing I’d had that first night, minus the champagne of course.

Jensen had made the reservation weeks ago, booking out the entire restaurant to be our private love den for the evening. He’d had to pull some strings, but I was excited about the prospect of having the whole place to ourselves. He treated me like nothing less than a princess, and though it was a strange shift in my day-to-day life, I wouldn’t have traded it for the world.

Finding myself pacing my office in anticipation, I paused to reach into my desk drawer to retrieve the jar of pickles I’d brought from home. The crunchy dill spears were one of my most intense cravings, so I was reluctant to go anywhere without a jar. I shoveled them into my eager mouth, humming in pleasure at the taste.

Without realizing it was time to leave for the day, I began to hum cheerfully under my breath as I ate, swaying from side to side in giddy excitement.

“Aren’t you cute?” Jensen asked suddenly, and I was so startled I nearly dropped the jar in my hands. I turned wide eyes upon him, my cheeks flaring with embarrassment.

“You shouldn’t sneak up on me like that,” I said balefully, tucking the jar back into my desk drawer. Jensen chuckled, crossing his arms over his chest as he watched me fidget around the office. While we were somewhat past the point of me having to be at my sexiest at any given time, I still didn’t want to seem outright frumpy.

“I didn’t sneak, darling. It’s time for our dinner date,” he said warmly, stepping toward me to offer his arm. I pouted a bit, looping our arms together and allowing him to lead me out of my office. I couldn’t be too angry faced with the prospect of food even more delicious than my beloved pickles.

“Oh, I didn’t even pay any mind to the time,” I mumbled, walking alongside him to the elevator. Once we stepped inside, he drew me in for a sweet kiss and I almost shrieked. “I smell like pickles,” I whined, trying to push him away. He grinned cockily, licking his lips teasingly.

“You taste like them too, but I’m not complaining. My little pickle princess,” he said cheekily.

I groaned, slapping at his shoulder in an attempt to get him to stifle himself, though he didn’t oblige. He continued to pepper kisses all along my cheeks, acting like he was going to capture my lips in a kiss before shifting his face slightly to blow a raspberry on my chin. I squealed indignantly, unable to stop the giggles once they started. He looked pleased with himself, and as much as I wanted to slap him, the urge to kiss him was stronger.

“You’re so silly. I never would have guessed,” I said quietly, considering him with a fond smile. He shrugged his shoulders, offering me a sly wink.

“I’m just as surprised. I’ve never had as much fun as I have with you,” he admitted, tugging me out of the elevator as we reached the ground floor. I allowed myself to be gently pulled, falling into step beside him as we exited the building. “Wait on this bench. I’ll come pick you up and then we’ll be on our way,” he said quickly. I parted my lips to argue, but God only knew how tiring it was to walk with the extra weight I was putting on. I resigned myself to sitting on the bench, resting a hand on my stomach.

When he pulled up in front of the building, he leaped out of the car and rushed to open my door for me. I grinned unabashedly, sliding into my seat and fastening my seatbelt. Jensen fussed over me for a moment longer before rushing to get back in the driver’s seat.

“Don’t want to miss our reservation, do we?” I teased, knowing it wasn’t exactly pressing that we got to the Cerf Blanc right on time. We had it booked for the entire evening. Just the same, he pressed the pedal to the metal as we raced down the back streets to the restaurant. “This isn’t the kind of T-bone I was looking forward to,” I yelped as we passed in front of another car in a blur. Jensen looked chagrined, slowing down for the rest of the trip. I reached out to grab his hand, smiling gently.

“I suppose I can’t drive like a madman once our child is here,” he sighed, pulling into the parking lot. The only other cars in the lot were those of the servers, kitchen workers and various other staff.

“It’ll all be worth it, right?” I prompted, winking before getting out of the car. He chuckled, walking slowly toward the entrance so I could properly keep up.

I grabbed his hand just before we stepped inside, and we were swiftly led to the best table in the entire restaurant. It was just in front of a stage where live music occasionally played and surprisingly, Jensen seemed to have arranged for that as well. I watched with barely contained interest as the musicians stepped on stage with their instruments.

My heart skipped a beat as they began playing a rendition of my favorite song, a ballad from the early eighties. The man singing had the voice of an angel, and I couldn’t help but tear up as I tried to express my appreciation to Jensen.

“You didn’t have to do all this,” I whimpered as he stood from the table, offering me his hand.

“I vowed to myself that I would treat you like royalty. Would you do me the pleasure of having this dance, princess?” he asked smoothly. His eyes glinted, and I couldn’t deny that I was struck by how absolutely charming he was. I gripped his hand, allowing him to guide me in a close and intimate dance in time with the beat of the music. I rested my cheek on his shoulder, allowing my eyes to flutter shut.

Every time I was sure things couldn’t get any better, Jensen seemed to go out of his way to disprove that notion. It was as if I were living in a fairy-tale world where absolutely nothing could go wrong. I was aware that there could be missteps along the way, but I was confident that the two of us could get through anything as long as we were together.

“I want to stay like this forever. I couldn’t imagine a more perfect moment,” I said quietly. Jensen chuckled, extending me into a twirl before drawing me in close again. He rested his chin on top of my head, and we swayed slowly from side to side as the song began to trail off into the final notes.

“Well, the way I see it, we have the rest of our lives to make moments as perfect as this, my sweet pickle princess,” he said teasingly. I laughed out loud, pushing away from him and slipping back toward the table as the band segued into another song.

“Let’s order our food,” I chuckled. “You did drag my away from my beloved pickle jar, after all,” I said, sticking my tongue out at him. He smiled., I had never felt so happy in my life.

The rest of our lives for perfect moments? That sounded great to me.