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Page 8
Page 8
Jax snorted. “I’m pretty sure you could do it right now,” he said. “The only one not afraid of you is your man—who wouldn’t be happy to see you here.”
“Well, good thing then that he’s gone off and can’t see me, isn’t it?” Fine, so she was cranky. But she had a little hand poking in her ribs and something else, possibly a foot, tap-dancing on her bladder.
“Waddle your way over here to this chair,” Jax said, and Chloe considered killing him as Ford pulled out the chair for her and helped her ease down into it.
“I’m not an invalid,” she said.
Maddie hugged her. “Of course not. Invalids stay where they’re put.”
Tara was eyeing Chloe’s dress with suspicion. “Where did you get that?”
Well, crap. “Made it,” Chloe said.
“Yeah? Because it looks an awful lot like the robe I just purchased.”
Chloe affected a wide-eyed sad look and let her voice waver. “Are you saying I look like I’m in a bathrobe?”
“No,” Tara said quickly. “Of course not. You look beautiful.”
“Okay then,” Chloe said, and sniffed. “Thank you.”
“Let’s toast,” Maddie said, ever the peacemaker. She tapped her champagne glass to Chloe’s water glass. “To the newest addition in our crazy family—the Bean.”
Everyone drank to that, and Chloe found herself having a good time over the next hour. She tried to let the happy soak into her, through her, and wanted the baby to feel it too, but there was no denying that something was missing.
Or someone was missing.
Sawyer should’ve made it back by now, and she realized her cramps were most likely stress. Please be okay… Because he had to be, she would accept nothing less. Restless and uncomfortable, she shifted in her chair for the millionth time, to no avail.
“You okay?” Ford asked.
“Always,” she said.
He smiled at her. “Tough girl to the end.”
When the music sped up, Chloe set down her glass and stood. Time to stop dwelling. “I want to dance.”
Both sisters opened their mouths to protest, but it was Jax who leaned in. “Honey, Dr. Tyler wanted you to stay quiet.”
Chloe snorted. “Dr. Tyler didn’t say that; Sawyer said that. And he’s not here, so who’s going to dance with me?”
When both brothers-in-law stared at her, she tugged on Ford’s hand.
“Why me?” he asked.
“Because you love me the most,” she said.
Sap that he was, Ford smiled and led her to the dance floor. Then he pulled her into his arms, shifting in a natural rhythm with the music. He stroked a hand down her back, rubbing her aches and pains, making her moan.
“Here, darlin’,” he said, pulling her in tighter. “Since you’re wearing sneakers instead of your usual ballbuster heels, you can stand on my feet and let me do all the work.”
She hadn’t realized how utterly exhausted she was until she let her weight go, allowing him to hold her up. “Mmm,” she said, eyes closed, her head on his chest. “Wake me when the New Year comes, okay?”
He laughed softly and hugged her as he danced them slowly around the floor. “The most hardheaded woman I know having a child with the most stubborn man on the planet,” he marveled. “God help the two of you.”
“Don’t you mean the three of us?” Chloe asked. “Me, Sawyer, and the baby?”
“Nah,” he said. “The baby’s going to be fine. You’re going to make a great mama.”
She knew her hormones were in overdrive when her throat tightened. “You think so?”
He squeezed her gently. “I know so.” Then he took her hands in his and looked into her watery eyes. “Hey, you okay?”
“Yeah.” She let out a shuddery sigh. “It’s just that my back and legs hurt, and I have cramps.”
“Let’s sit down.”
“Not yet,” she said, and didn’t lift her head from his shoulder. She thought maybe she could sleep right here. Ford’s arms were strong and warm.
Not as strong and warm as Sawyer’s, though. No one was as strong as Sawyer, inside and out. From the very beginning, he’d both driven her insane and made her feel protected and safe for the first time in her life.
“He’ll be back soon,” Ford said quietly.
“You a mind reader?”
“No, you’re just not all that good at hiding your feelings.”
“Last week, I couldn’t sleep. At midnight I decided I had to have cran-apple juice. Cran-apple juice, Ford.”
“So you got thirsty.”
“At midnight,” she reminded him. “Sawyer told me he’d go first thing in the morning. The poor guy hadn’t gotten home until ten, and he had to be at work early for a meeting. I knew he wouldn’t have time to go in the morning so I threw on sweats and drove to the store. I stood there in the aisle of the grocery store and burst into tears because there was no cran-apple juice. There was a gallon of cranberry juice and a gallon of apple juice, but no cran-apple. I was going to have to buy the two gallons and mix them together. But the gallon jugs were too heavy for me to lift.”
Ford sighed. “You’re such a nut.”
“I know!”
“What happened?”
“Sawyer had followed me to the store. He bought the two gallons and shepherded me home.”