Total pages in book: 32
Estimated words: 29962 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 150(@200wpm)___ 120(@250wpm)___ 100(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 29962 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 150(@200wpm)___ 120(@250wpm)___ 100(@300wpm)
“That sounds vaguely familiar,” he says in the slow drawl he has when he thinks I’ve said something stupid.
“After the wedding, we left together.” I’m not giving him any more details other than that. I don’t like the idea of sharing anything that happens between my future wife and me. She’s mine. Only mine.
He blows out a frustrated breath. “That still doesn’t tell me why the fuck you’re texting my wife. On Valentine’s Day weekend.”
I should have created a group chat between the three of us, but I figured Dotty would be more sympathetic to my plight. Clearly, to get to her, I have to go through him first. That sounds about right. I’ll be the same way with Thea. “I’m snowed in, and I need some stuff to make my Valentine’s Day gift for her.”
Chapter 13
Thea
Jasper is snoring soundly by my side. After my long, luxurious nap, he woke me to a dinner of the best baked potato of my life. There was also steak, but all I wanted was the potato. After, we watched movies together on his living room couch and cuddled for hours.
I thought when we finally crawled into bed that we would go at it again, but my big, gruff lumberjack was a total gentleman. Instead, he held me until he was snoring.
I bump him a few times, but he stays in deep sleep. Content that he won’t rouse, I slip from the bed and pad into his living room.
I’m not tired after my long nap and more than that, I want to work on a birthday gift for him. When he started talking about foxes, I had an idea.
I settle on Jasper’s couch with a few truffles nearby and reach for the remote. I start streaming a romantic comedy about Valentine’s Day then grab my project bag. I have enough supplies to create my idea. All I need is a pattern.
Fortunately, there are plenty of crochet patterns for what I want online. It only takes me about three hours to finish the tiny stuffed fox. When I do, I smile to myself and hide it beneath the yarn scraps.
Then I go back to bed, slipping underneath the covers next to him. He’s still snoring, and I pause to brush the hair from his face, feeling another rush of tenderness.
Soon enough the sun will come out and melt away the snow. I’ll have to go back to my regular life, and I’ll miss him so much. Even if all we ever share is this special weekend together, I’ll always be glad I came in person to tell him about our baby.
The next morning, I wake up to find Jasper has already left the bed. He’s in the kitchen, playing more jazz music and humming under his breath. He looks up from the frying pan and gives me a grin. “I was thinking French toast for Valentine’s Day breakfast.”
I swallow the lump in my throat. I mentioned yesterday how it’s my favorite breakfast food. Even on his birthday, he’s still focused on me. “I’d love that.”
The entire time I eat, my stomach is in knots. I keep debating on giving him the fox. It’s such a tiny thing for everything he’s done for me. Will he even like it?
Finally, I gather my courage and blurt out, “It’s not just Valentine’s Day today.”
He continues gathering the plates from the table. “It’s Sunday too.”
“And your birthday,” I point out.
His chocolate gaze drops to my belly, his eyes lighting up. “I have everything I want.”
“Well, I have something for you,” I tell him. “Sit down for a second.”
He does as I instructed, giving me a wink. “I won’t say no to anything you want to give me.”
“Good. Close your eyes for a second,” I tell him and race back to the living room to grab the project bag before I can completely lose my nerve. Maybe he’ll hate it and think it’s childish.
“OK, you can open,” I tell him when I return to the room with the gift behind my back.
He opens his eyes. “I have to admit, I kind of hoped you’d be naked.”
“That might be a better gift,” I admit. Yesterday, I thought about giving him that, but he’s always so insistent on making sure I orgasm twice before he does. It seemed like sex would be more of a present for me.
He chuckles. “You promised me a gift. I’ll love it no matter what.”
“I didn’t have a way to wrap it, but happy birthday,” I tell him, pulling the fox from behind my back and handing it to him.
He accepts it, staring down at the little animal I filled with yarn scraps since I didn’t have any of the fancy stuffing from the craft store.
“It’s not much, but I thought since you said yesterday—”
He looks up then, and I see the sheen of moisture in his gaze. He pulls me into his lap and wraps his arms around me, holding me close. “It’s the perfect gift. Thank you.”