She’s had a noticeable surge of energy over the past few weeks and is hell-bent on making the most of it while it lasts. She’s been going full speed between managing the shop and online orders and hunting for the perfect vintage pieces for a woodland-themed nursery. The only problem is how small her one-bedroom apartment is, so she’s had to scale back her vision to a crib, wall art, and a few stuffed animals for the time being. My studio loft at the ranch is no better.
It’s got me thinking about my house on the ranch that’s sat untouched for months. The walls are up, and the roof is done, but the inside is still unfinished—nothing but bare studs, exposed wiring, and plywood subfloors.
I’d always envisioned building the place with my own two hands, but between Walker leaving the ranch and finding out about the baby, I’ve hardly made any progress this past year. We’re going to need a bigger place soon, and I can’t keep dragging this out as a side project.
I watch as Charlie lifts her shirt and unclips her insulin pump, moving it aside while Katie spreads the gel across her rounded belly.
These appointments come naturally now, but I’ll never forget the first ultrasound. It was agonizing when Katie struggled tofind the heartbeat, and there was a moment I was forced to imagine a future where Charlie and I never got to meet our little peanut. I would have fought for her through anything, but I’m so damn grateful we’re here now, watching our kid on the screen.
“All right, let’s see what we’ve got,” Katie says, sliding the probe over Charlie’s belly. She pauses, studying the monitor before her face lights up with a smile. “Well, would you look at that! Baby has finally flipped around and is showing off for us.”
Charlie gives my hand a squeeze. “Oh my god, she’s sucking her thumb,” she exclaims.
Sure enough, as I look closer, I see our baby lying on its back with its legs spread, one tiny hand pressed to its mouth. It’s the cutest damn thing I’ve ever seen.
“Looks like you were right, mama,” Katie says brightly. “You’re having a baby girl. Congratulations.”
My throat tightens as Charlie lets out a happy sob. I rise from my chair, move to her side, and sit on the edge of the exam table, wrapping an arm around her shoulders.
“I told you it was a girl,” she playfully taunts, laughing through her tears.
“You were right, sweetheart,” I murmur, pressing a kiss to her forehead. “Our daughter is perfect.”
“She is,” Charlie beams, eyes glued to the monitor.
“You’re officially outnumbered,” Katie interjects.
I glance over at Charlie, grinning as I rest my hand over her belly. “I’m the luckiest man alive to have the two most beautiful girls in the world.”
As I watch our baby on the screen, I realize this is the start of a love I never knew was possible, and I owe it all to Charlie and her incredible strength. She gave me the greatest gift I could have ever asked for, and I’ll never be able to repay her.
“God, this is so embarrassing!” Charlie shouts from inside the closet.
I swing my legs off the bed and follow the sound of her frustrated growls, barely dodging a pair of pants that sails past my head.
I lean against the doorframe, watching as she stands in her underwear, frantically flinging a pile of pants from a shelf. A whirlwind of fabric flies in every direction.
“Charlie,” I say softly. “It’s late. Why don’t you come to bed?”
She whips her head around, fixing me with a fierce glare. “Because I have to find something to wear for tomorrow and nothing fits me anymore,” she snaps.
“That’s not true.” I slowly approach her, navigating the sea of clothes scattered across the floor. “You wore those floral jeans today, and you were stunning.”
“Don’t patronize me, Heath Halstead.” She flings a shirt at my head, and I dodge it in the nick of time. “I couldn’t button them, and they were squeezing me like a sausage.”
“In the morning, we can find something in the shop for you to wear,” I suggest as I step closer.
One perk of her owning a vintage shop is the endless supply of clothing. It’s been her lifeline these past couple of months as her body changes. I’m sure she’ll find exactly what she’s looking for in the stack of new inventory boxes waiting in the storage room.
“Did you hear what I said?” she exclaims with her hands on her hips. “I’m freaking huge, and I’m supposed to visit Grams and Florence tomorrow. It would’ve been nice to know I wasgoing to turn into a giant beached whale before you knocked me up. God, I hate you.”
I chuckle as I close the last bit of distance and draw her into my arms. Her rounded belly presses against my lower abdomen.
“It’s totally unfair,” she grumbles into my chest. “You’re all chiseled abs and in the best shape of your life, and I’m this big, bloated mess. Aren’t you supposed to gain sympathy weight? Or are you just not emotionally invested enough to support me through this?”
Her moods swing wildly from tearful episodes to full hormonal rage, and then, moments later, sweet apologies followed by her urgently begging me to fuck her.
I thought her sex drive would ease up after the first few weeks, but damn, I was wrong. She wakes me up at all hours, showing up at the ranch to drag me into the barn for a quickie, or calling me home early so she can ride me before dinner.