Forsaking All Others (From This Day Forward Book 2) (20 page)

December 5, 2014

(27 weeks)

“Happy birthday, baby.” David’s warm breath tickles my ear and I burrow back under the comforter.

I sleepily reply, “I’m not ready to be thirty-one though.”

He strokes my much rounder belly, “That’s too bad, because I booked a spa day for the birthday girl. If you see her, let me know.”

I pull the covers back, “You did? When?”

David turns and looks back at the clock on his nightstand, “Your appointment is in an hour, so you might want to get moving.”

I roll over to face him, “You’re the best ever—you know that right?”

He kisses my nose, “Anything for my girl. Do you want some hot tea?”

I smile and little man begins kicking in my belly. I grab David’s hand and place it back on my belly. “Your son is telling you good morning.”

Like he’s done ever since that first kick, David gets this mesmerized look on his face and begins talking to his son, “Hey little man. You working on your mornin’ swim?”

And like I’ve done ever since that first kick, I tear up. I never thought we’d be here—in this place. I never imagined that we would be able to claw our way back to each other, but here we are.

I got to witness my tough guy of a husband cry at his first ultrasound appointment. It was funny, something that I’d become accustomed to, was a brand new world for him. He held my hands in a death grip and kept whispering, “We made that. That’s our little man.”

David interrupts my thoughts, “What about Lucas?”

I wrinkle my nose, “I don’t know…I’m not feeling it.”

It’s the one thing we cannot agree on—baby names. I want to wait until March, when he’s born, and see what he looks like. David wants it decided now so that he can finish up the nursery. Apparently, he’s building a wooden sign with the baby’s name—I’ve been forbidden from entering the workshop because he wants it to be a surprise.

“David, what if you just use our last name over his crib?” I know this is an exercise in futility here. He’ll just keep trying to wear me down.

He scoffs, “I can’t have a kid with no name, Beth. What about Michael?”

“Your middle name? I don’t know…it’s not great.”

The only thing we’ve agreed on is the middle name—John, after his dad. It felt right, and with such an important middle name, I want to have the perfect first name to go with it. I guess if this is what we’re fighting about now—we’ve come a long way.

David sighs and then smiles at me mischievously before sliding his hand between my legs, “What if we agree to disagree for the moment?”

I’m instantly wet—
seriously a good strong breeze in his presence just about does it for me these days
. I kind of thought the hormones would taper off, but if anything, they’ve increased.

David had a long talk with Dr. Harper at our last check-up about it. That wasn’t embarrassing or anything—nope, not one bit. He wanted to make sure that it was safe for the baby, first and foremost. Secondly, he wanted to know if it was normal for a pregnant woman to want sex every day—sometimes more than once. I mean that only happened on one occasion—two occasions, tops.

Dr. Harper mercifully was on my side and said as long as I felt okay and had no complications that we were okay to have sex up until the baby was born. She then told David that some of her patients end up on bedrest and are unable to have sex for a good chunk of their pregnancy. He didn’t ask questions after that.

His hand slips beneath the waistband of my sweatpants, “You’re awfully quiet over there. Was that a yes?”

I moan as his fingers stroke me, “Yes…always yes.”

I pull into the driveway late that same afternoon. The sky is already darkening and it makes me miss the late evenings of summer. I pull my relaxed body from the warmth of my car. When David said “spa day,” I envisioned a facial and maybe a massage, if I was lucky. No, he booked me an entire package of services. I got there and they started with an aromatherapy bath before a prenatal massage. I was served lunch on fine china before I was whisked away for a facial and then my day ended with a manicure and pedicure. Considering I haven’t been able to reach my feet in the past few weeks, that may have been my favorite part.

I set my purse down on the kitchen counter and am in the process of debating whether or not to take a nap when the doorbell rings. I look through the peephole and see that it’s Landon.

My blood runs cold. I haven’t seen him in person in months—he’s been a favorite for the local news stations as he tirelessly searches for Katya. I feel awful that the poor woman has been missing for four months now, and police still have no leads. Landon won’t give up though—he even put her picture up on billboards.

My heart breaks for him, but I’m still wary of opening the door. I hear my garage door open and panic sets in before I realize it’s David. I’m going to have to deal with this before he gets involved.

I take a deep breath and open the door.

“Hi Landon.”

He stares at my face, I’m still fresh-faced from the spa, and he frowns. “Elizabeth? Are you sick?”

I smile, “No—just spent the day at the spa,” I hear David walk in, and I know I need to wrap this up. “What can I do for you?”

Landon looks over my shoulder as David comes up behind me. He wraps his arms possessively around my waist, resting his hands on my belly. Landon’s gaze travels downward and he actually stumbles back a step, “No…” his words are whispered, but I can read the look of anguish on his face.

David steps around me, shielding me with his body, “I believe my wife asked you a question. What are you doing here?”

He refuses to look at David, instead focusing on me, “You’re pregnant? You lied to me!”

David takes a step toward him, “Do not speak to my wife like that!”

Landon laughs caustically, “Your wife? Oh, it’s all ‘my wife’ now. Where were you when I was fucking her though? I’m pretty sure you couldn’t have given two shits she was your wife then. No, you were too busy fu—”

David lands a solid punch into Landon’s face and he stumbles into the bricks. I scream out in fright, backing further into the doorway.

David stands over him and growls, “Don’t fucking curse in front of my son!”

Landon stands back up, wiping blood from his mouth, his eyes never leaving mine. “I guess I’ve been laboring under a false pretense here—thought you two were divorcing, that’s obviously not the case. I just stopped by to say Happy Birthday, Elizabeth. Sorry to ruin your night.” He turns and goes back to his Tahoe.

David looks at me, confusion etched over both of our faces. “Did he just leave…just like that? He didn’t even try to swing back…”

I nod, while swallowing a lump in my throat. David closes the front door and locks it behind us. Tears prick my eyes and he wraps me up in a hug. “Come here, Birthday Girl. Let’s not let an asshat like Landon Scott ruin our night. He knows I’m back permanently now—that should put an end to these surprise visits.”

I nod against his chest, wanting to agree with him—more than anything. The problem is that I knew Landon better than he did and his eyes said that he wasn’t finished.

December 14, 2014

(28 weeks)

I place another log on the fireplace. “Thanks, David. I can’t get warm.”

I smirk over to where she’s bundled up in three blankets on the couch. “And you’re sure you want a bowl of ice cream right now, babe?”

She smiles and pats her stomach, “Well, someone’s craving it. I’d rather have a salad, but this kid is demanding sweets!”

I chuckle and head for the freezer as she calls after me, “Do you really think we’re going to get a blizzard over the next few days?”

I grab the ice cream and begin dishing it out, “Hard to say, babe. You know how hard it is to predict the weather around here. With all this hype, I wouldn’t be surprised if it missed us completely.”

She sighs, “It’d be nice to have a white Christmas for once.”

I place the bowl of rocky road ice cream in her lap before joining her on the couch. “Beth, even if we got thirty-six inches of snow, I doubt there’d be any left on the ground by Christmas—”

—“And we’re back with our top story of the night, Blizzard Watch 2014. Ryan, what can you tell us?”

“Thanks, Lynn. Folks, this storm is no joke. Our early models show this storm strengthening as it moves into the area later tonight. As you can see, our viewing area is clear now, but we expect visibility to begin decreasing in the early morning hours. Travel is highly discouraged and remember if you have pets, tonight is not a night to leave them outside. We’re expecting five to ten inches on the ground by mid-morning tomorrow, but snow will increase again around lunch-time. High winds will create white-out conditions and then we’re expected to get an additional ten to twenty inches. Lynn, back to you.”

Beth gestures to me with a spoon full of ice cream, “I told you…storm of the century.”

Her cell phone chirps and she glances down.

I mute the television, “Who is it?”

She sighs, “Lauren. She wants me to go up to the office and print out tomorrow’s schedule, so we can call patients and reschedule if we get snowed in.”

I stretch my feet toward the fire, “Why isn’t she doing it?”

Beth looks up from the phone screen, “Oh, I forgot to tell you! Mike’s mom came into town this weekend and they were having some big dinner thing. Lauren’s been a nervous wreck.”

“Betsy? Oh man, I hate that I’m missing her. She used to give me all kinds of shit back in the day—I don’t think I’ve seen her in at least a year.”

“Apparently, she’s not a big fan of Lauren’s, so it’s probably best we’re not over there.”

I stand up, “Ah, she’ll come around. Lauren grows on you—kind of like a fungus.”

Beth swats my leg, “Rude.”

I head to the door, “I’ll go. You stay here.”

She smirks up at me, “Yeah, if you knew what you were doing that’d be awesome. Plus, you know Lauren would kill me if she knew you were going through patient records—she’s already had people thrown in jail for violating patient privacy, I’d hate to see what she does to you.”

She puts her now empty bowl of ice cream on the side table and stands up, pressing her hands into her lower back. “I’ll run up there and be home in five.”

“Are you sure? I can go with you.”

She comes over and leans into me, “I’m a big girl, David. I got it. You should stay here and keep that fire going,” she trails her hand down my arm lightly, giving me chills. “I might want to strip down and let you warm me up in front of it later.”

I bite back a groan, “Okay, go, but hurry back.” I tuck her hair behind her ear and take her mouth with mine.

Letting her walk out that door is a decision I’ll regret for the rest of my life.