“Now a friggin’ bathtub!” I shriek, then take a deep, centring breath as he annoyingly tries not to laugh at my outburst. “Bo, you had a nice shower. A walk-in shower. One that was designed to suit your needs. This is absurd. It’s unsafe,” I say, my eyes falling to my belly, where Bo’s hands rest comfortably.
“Fred…” Bo says, bringing a hand to cup my jaw and tilting my face up toward him. Him and his stupidly cute, albeit condescending, grin. “It’s a walk-in tub with a door. Emphasis on the walk-in part. Best of both worlds. You need your baths, honey. Sarah and I—”
“And that’s another fucking thing!” I say, poking his chin. He looks down at my finger with knotted brows and releases one sharp, shocked laugh. “Stop talking with Sarah about all these things before you talk to me. She likes being spoiled. That’s her and Caleb’s dynamic—not ours.”
“It. Is. Not. A. Gift,” Bo says, bending to kiss my forehead like a woodpecker between each word. “A gift would be something you want, not something you need,” he says, moving toward the corner of the room where I’ve put a palm plant. “Is this new?”
I growl, turning away from him as I flop onto our bed like a dramatic starfish.
Bo silently moves to shut the door. Then he walks over and sits next to my hip on the edge of the bed. He says nothing, no doubt waiting for me to look at him. But I refuse. “If you really need me to, I’ll send them home. But there’s a chance by now it’s too late. I’m pretty sure I saw our old shower door being carried outside.”
I cover my face, groaning into my palms.
I love baths. I miss baths. Admittedly, I can’t wait to take a bath here, in my home. I want Bo to sit in there with me and do his sudoku puzzle while I soak and prune, listening to music and telling each other about our days. I want him to look over at me and pray the bubbles will turn to white, silky film so he can see more of my body through the water. I want him to pull me out of there just to dry me off with his tongue. I want to soak in warm water when I go into labour, waiting out the early contractions in the place where I feel the most at peace.
I just don’t want this tilted scale.
This uneven score. This tally I’m still unconvinced isn’t being counted. Bo’s gifts, kind acts, and generosity weighed against mine. The competition it feels like I’m losing.
“I don’t want you to send them home,” I say, my voice muffled by the hands across my face.
“So what do you want? A snack, maybe?”
“I’m not being cranky because I’m hungry,” I say, removing my hands to glare at him.
He purses his lips and nods sarcastically. “No, you? Never.”
“Tell me how to spoil you back,” I say, pouting. “And do not say blowjobs—”
Bo shuts his mouth as quickly as he opened it, smiling coyly as he scratches above his eyebrow.
“I just want this to feel fair, Bo. That’s all I’ve ever wanted.”
He places his palm back on my belly and sighs out a long, heavy breath. He swipes his thumb back and forth, bunching and stretching my T-shirt in its path. Well, actually, his T-shirt. Most of my clothes don’t fit comfortably ever since my bump popped. I refuse to buy anything new. I like wearing Bo’s clothes because he gets all worked up over it. I think it’s because it’s almost like announcing to the world that I’m his. His woman carrying his baby in his clothing.
And I like that they smell like him.
“I know, Win. But, to me, it will never be fair. No matter how much I do, you’re the one carrying—”
“The camp is going to take years, Bo. Years. If it even does happen—because who knows? Things could go wrong. Maybe we can’t find a property. Maybe we open it, and no one comes. Maybe it will fail. Then what?”
“I believe in you and this idea,” Bo says, shifting closer to me. “But if it didn’t happen, I would never hold that against you. I want this for us. And I bet, someday soon, you’ll be earning more than me doing what you’ve always wanted to do.”
“But that doesn’t mean you need to spoil me.”
“I want you to love it here just as much as I love having you here.”
“And I appreciate that, but these things all feel like not-so-subtle reminders of how little I have to give.”
“Honey.” Bo laughs without humour, his eyes pleading. “You’re giving me everything.”
“Just… talk to me first before you decide to do anything else this grand, okay? Not Sarah, not your dad, not Caleb or the other guys, but me. I don’t find surprises fun.”
“This one was”—Bo says, dropping his chin onto my belly and looking up at me with soft, puppy dog eyes as he tilts his cheek against me—“wasn’t it?”
I roll my eyes, fighting a smile. “Yes,” I agree stubbornly.
“And… the other night… that was a surprise,” Bo says, wetting his lips as he lifts himself overtop of me, kissing his way up my body through my clothes.
He’s talking, of course, about the new toy he got me. Well, us. After Bo told me he heard me from down the hall, I was never able to look at my vibrator the same. Eventually, I just tossed it. But, as it turns out, Bo wanted to play out that fantasy and got me a brand-new one he could watch me use. He wanted to see if his imagination lived up to the real thing.
Based on the crazed way in which he behaved afterward, I think it did.
Then it was my turn to live out the fantasy I’d been denying myself, using the silky black rope Bo had stored away in his closet. Turns out, he’d bought it for a cosplay of some kind, but that’s beside the point. It did the job well.
“A compromise,” I say, playing with his hair as he kisses across my belly. “Surprises under fifty dollars are allowed.”
“How about five hundred?”
“What did you do?” I sit up, forcing him so far back he nearly falls off the bed.
“Nothing!” he says defensively. I raise a brow. “Nothing that I can return…”
“New rule. Starting today,” I say, flopping back down to the mattress. “Fifty.”
He smiles mischievously as he crawls his way up my body, then he lowers his mouth onto mine. “Agreed,” he whispers against my lips. “I do love seeing how long it takes you to break your own rules,” he says, dropping his sweet kisses down my neck and onto my chest.
Immediately, my nipples harden and beg for his attention through the thin layers of my cotton bra and T-shirt. Damn these hormones. I’m constantly fluctuating between agitated and horny these days, with not much else in between.
Meanwhile, my body feels achy and swollen all over. Still, Bo makes it obvious he couldn’t be more attracted to me. I think the guy might actually prefer me knocked up.
“They’ll hear us…” I say, panting as Bo brings one hand up to palm my breast and licks his way around my nipple on the other, wetting the material with his tongue. I squeeze my thighs together, trying to subdue the overwhelming urge to have him right now.
“Well, then, make sure you say my name clearly, honey. I want them to know who makes all those pretty noises come out of your mouth.” He stands up, pulling my leggings off in one swoop. He then throws my legs over his shoulders as he drops to his knees at the end of the bed.