Working For It

by BJ Harvey

  She yawns again. “Sorry to say, but you’re so not getting any action tonight.”

  Chuckling, I shake my head and lift her hand off my leg to place a kiss on top of her knuckles. “Lucky I literally meant sleep then. Now, wait there and I’ll help you out.”

  A minute later, we’re walking up the stairs and into the house. I lock the door behind us and turn back toward Gilly, who’s grabbing water from the fridge.

  “I’ve got a surprise for you before we go into the bedroom.” She closes the refrigerator door and slowly spins around to face me.

  Her eyes drift to my groin then back up to my face, her lips quirking. “Sorry, baby daddy, but it’s not a surprise if I’ve had any part of it inside me.”

  I sigh and grin at her. “Not that, but you will pay for that comment.”

  “Promises, promises.”

  “You’ll keep,” I reply with a laugh. I close the distance between us and reach for her hand. “I’ve got something to show you on the way to our bedroom.

  “Why does everything out of your mouth sound so dirty right now?”

  “Because you’re a horny pregnant woman, and everything is about sex to you right now?”

  She sighs, resting her head against my arm as I lead her by the hand toward the stairs. “It’s the hormones,” she says. “Also, why did I think it was a good idea to move our bedroom upstairs when I’m the size of a house?”

  I grin. “Maybe a small apartment. Definitely not a house.”

  She giggles, shaking her head against me as we reach the first floor. “If I didn’t agree, you’d be in so much trouble right now.”

  My lips tip up. “I pick my moments.”

  I turn her to face me and pull her in close to me. “Close your eyes.”

  She frowns and looks at me suspiciously. “What are you up to?”

  “Close your eyes, sweetheart. I promise it’s worth it,” I whisper.

  She does as asked, and after a brief brush of my lips against hers, I shift behind her and reach around to open the door in front of us.

  I stare in wonder at the now finished room. Jamie, April, Bryant, Mom, Dad, Cohen, and Skye had a mission tonight, and looking at the end result, they absolutely nailed it.

  I lace my fingers with hers and wrap them around her to rest on top of her bump. I bring my mouth to her ear. “Open your eyes, sweetheart.”

  Gilly’s gasp fills the air. Her fingers spasm in my hand before releasing me again.

  “Oh my God,” she whispers, her voice thick. I press a kiss to her neck. “It’s perfect.”

  I’ve always had a photographic memory, so there’s no way I was ever going to forget the baby nursery photo we found a few weeks ago that Gilly fell head over heels in love with.

  There are cream walls and a plush grey wool carpet, with three long, wooden floating shelves on one side opposite the top-opening old window we upcycled during the renovations. A zebra-esque cotton rug spans most of the floor, and a brand-new brown leather nursing chair sits in the far corner with a stuffed toy sloth sitting on the seat to match the sloth photo hanging on the wall beside it. There’s also a soft elephant sitting on top of a matching-shaped ottoman, and various other animals scattered around the edge of the room—a key piece being a stuffed waist-high giraffe next to an electronic baby rocker Ronnie and Jax gifted to us. To finish off the zoo theme, there are three more frames with photos of animals in them on the walls.

  Then there’s the crib I sneakily assembled this afternoon while Gilly was at work—because it’s one of the big things I wanted to do for our son.

  The only thing I added which wasn’t in the original Pinterest photo is a wooden plank effect on the feature wall.

  Lastly, I commissioned a local manufacturer to create a soft cream neon light customized with our son’s first name.

  Gilly turns in my arms, looping her arms around my neck and looking up at me with tear-filled eyes. “How did you…”

  “Let’s just say that Jamie and April’s date night also included Bry, Co, Skye, and my parents.”

  “Oh my God,” she breathes.

  “And the crib I put together today.”

  Her eyes go even softer. “Just when I think I can’t love you any more, you up the ante.”

  “Get used to it,” I reply gruffly.

  “There’s something I think you should know,” she says.

  “You love me?”

  She shakes her head. “No. I love you in a way I know I’m never going to stop.”

  “Fuck, sweetheart,” I say before crushing my lips to hers, delving into her mouth, taking my fill, and pouring every single emotion I’m feeling into the kiss. Taking her weight, I hold her up. She melts into me, her hands tangling in my hair, her tongue dueling with mine and our son giving me an almighty kick in the guts to top it all off.

  We pull apart with a laugh. “He’s already cock-blocking me, and I wasn’t even trying to start something.”

  “And so it begins,” she says with a wry smile.

  “It’s totally worth it and so are you.” I brush my lips against hers once more. “And I’m going to spend every day making sure that’s the one thing you never, ever forget.”

  Then she’s the one tugging my head down. This time it’s her kissing me. I stand there and let her take control, mainly because it’s Gilly Nelson, and whatever she wants, whatever she needs, I’m always going to let her have it.

  Gilly

  Walking out of my empty office, knowing it’s the last time I’ll be working here, leaves me with such a weird feeling.

  This is where I sat back, watched, and learned what the art of practicing law really meant. My father and his father before him both helped to make this firm the powerhouse that it is today.

  But it’s bittersweet because I haven’t seen Keith at all today. His schedule showed him in and out of onsite meetings, but not once has he walked past my open office door, or has he been in the boardroom whenever I’ve ventured around the floor to say my goodbyes.

  In fact, he’s been conspicuously absent all week. For a man so big on staff morale and keeping up appearances, he’s making one thing very clear.

  “You know what?” I say to myself, turning back for one last look out my window at my sliver of a peek at the lake and the top of the Navy Pier Ferris wheel. I’d expected maybe one final dressing down. Maybe even a last-ditch Sheila intervention. But absolutely nothing at all? I didn’t think even he would be that cold. “I don’t know why I care.”

  “Yes, you do.” I turn around with a start to find Ezra leaning against the wall behind me, my box of belongings hooked under one arm.

  I burst into tears and face plant awkwardly into his chest. My belly is so big now it has to be a sideways hug situation, rather than a front-on, all-enveloping collapse against him.

  He rubs my back while still holding my trinkets and a few law manuals from the office in the other.

  “Why… is… this…” Hiccup. “…so…” Sob. “…hard?” Big sniffle.

  He dips his head and presses his lips to the top of my head. “Because this has been your other home for so long, and you’re walking away for all the best reasons, but that doesn’t make it any easier, sweetheart.”

  I shift back and wipe under my eyes, knowing I probably look like a raccoon. Tipping my chin, I meet his soft gaze. “Is this the right thing to do?”

  “Honestly?”

  I nod as he reaches out and sweeps a loose strand of hair behind my ear.

  “I think you’ve been putting obligation ahead of your own best interests for a long time, and our little peanut has made both of us reevaluate what we really want in life.” He dips his head and meets my eyes. “What I want is for you to be happy and to make you happy. I want to meet this baby boy of ours and start this next part of our lives together in the best place we can possibly be.” He sweeps his lips over mine. “You ready to walk out of here and spend the next four weeks—or however long our baby wants to make you wait—re
laxing, nesting, and driving both of us nuts while you go stir-crazy not doing anything?”

  “Yeah,” I say with a snicker.

  He nods and gives me a half-grin. “Then let’s go home. Your father knows where you are if he wants to make amends.” He runs his hand down my arm to lace his fingers with mine.

  “And what if he doesn’t reach out?”

  His gaze softens. “Then you’ll have my family—our family—our friends, Ronnie, everyone…and me.”

  My lips curve into a wry smile. “Don’t say things that make me want to kiss you in a way that’s not fit for public consumption.”

  Ez chuckles and shakes his head. “Then let’s get you to a place where you can do anything you want to me, for as long as you like.”

  “Take me home, baby daddy.”

  “Always, baby mama.”

  Just like that, Ezra has my back when I didn’t even know I needed him to.

  And yet again, he’s proven what I subconsciously knew all along—Ez is a good man and an even better partner, and he’s going to be an amazing father to our son.

  You can’t choose your parents, but you can choose your family.

  Fate brought Ezra Baker into my life, and now my job is to make sure everything he gets from me is just as good—if not more—than what I get in return.

  And because of that, I know our baby will never know anything but love, trust, support, and happiness.

  Three days into my maternity leave/unemployment, and I’m already bored. Call it nesting, unease, anxiety, or even an inability to process the enormity—in my mind anyway—of what lies ahead of me, but I just cannot sit still.

  Ezra has tried to give me a wide berth since we got home—and not just because I have a wide berth these days—but I haven’t missed his furrowed brows and concerned eyes as he’s hovered.

  Even that has put me on edge. His puzzled gaze is full of worry as if he’s expecting me to fall apart at any moment.

  I’m so physically uncomfortable, and I have so many conflicting emotions that I’m too scared to stop moving in case I collapse, break down, or start crying and never stop. So far today, I’ve changed my outfit twice and put on a hydrating face mask while wiping down every single surface in the kitchen. That was after rearranging the fridge and analyzing the contents of our hallway cupboard. I even growled when Ez offered to help.

  But even though I’m mentally and physically exhausted, my brain just won’t switch off.

  Gilly—I should be relaxing with my boyfriend on the couch. Instead, I’m categorically reorganizing my wardrobe, having already done every other closet in the house. What is wrong with me?

  Ronnie—It’s called being pregnant and going through a big life change. Your brain isn’t used to just stopping. You need to learn to take it easy.

  My lips quirk up.

  Gilly—And how does one turn their overactive/overstimulated brain off?

  Ronnie—Sex?

  Gilly—You know just how complicated and exhausting it is to have sex when you’re the size of a house.

  Ronnie—Get creative.

  I snort.

  Gilly—Read above about my current state of mind.

  Ronnie—True. What about a bath? Go soak in the tub. The water helps take the pressure off your legs, hips, and pelvis for a while, and once your brain is calm, then you can tap Ezra in to wear you out so you sleep like a baby

  Gilly—As long as the BABY lets me sleep. He’s rather nocturnal at the moment.

  Ronnie—Yeah, just think of it as preparation for the first six weeks of my nephew’s life.

  Gilly—Sorry for the pregnancy freak-out text.

  Ronnie—Gilly-Bear? You were there through my expletive-ridden birth. You saw Joey try to claw her way out. I’m here whenever you need me.

  Ronnie—P.S. Go for the reverse cowgirl. TRUST me.

  Ezra comes up behind me and snakes his arms around my waist, resting his splayed hands on my bump. He notches his chin in the crook of my neck. “You just snorted.”

  My lips curve up. “Ronnie says reverse cowgirl is the way to go.”

  He chuckles and kisses my throat. “You want to test that theory… again?”

  I can feel how into that idea he really is pressing up against my ass.

  I turn sideways so I can see his face. “Maybe after you run me a bath?” I ask, sounding hopeful.

  “Are you trying to coerce me with the promise of you riding me?”

  I shrug and shoot him a sly smile. “Is it working?”

  He brings his mouth to mine. “That will always work.” Then he touches the tip of his tongue to my skin and delves inside as soon as my lips part. I’m hanging onto his arms to hold myself up by the end of the kiss.

  “Maybe I’ll have a bath afterward,” I say breathlessly.

  His eyes dance with amusement. “Nope,” he says, straightening and stepping away with more self-control than I have right now. “My woman wants a bath. She gets a bath.”

  I pout, which makes him laugh. “Oh all right then.”

  “Good. Now go get that beautiful body naked while I get the bathroom ready for you.”

  “Is this pregnant lady privileges?”

  “This is Gilly privileges, and get used to them,” he says as he walks away. “’Cause this is a lifetime membership, and you get all the benefits.” He climbs the stairs, and I get to enjoy the sight of his tight, round ass scaling them as he goes.

  Gilly—I’ll let you know if the bath works

  Ronnie—Screw the bath! I want to know if my cowgirl trick works… in detail…

  Gilly—Pervert.

  Ronnie—Believe me, enjoy the uninterrupted sex while you can. If you think you have to be creative now, just wait till you have five minutes, leaking boobs, and a horny husband who can’t get enough of you.

  Gilly—So it’s a good thing I have a huge new shower then?

  Ronnie—You have no idea.

  I snicker at that and leave my phone on the counter before making my way toward the stairs.

  I have less than four weeks left of uninterrupted alone time with my baby daddy. I guess I better prepare myself for all the sex I can handle. Especially if it means I can relax and enjoy this last month of my pregnancy without tearing my house apart and putting it back together again.

  One thing is for sure: I definitely know Ezra will be all on board with this plan.

  Bath, relaxation, and a little preparation before testing out Ronnie’s hot tip.

  Sounds like the perfect end to the night to me.

  The thing about best-laid plans is they can go awry. Case in point: I’m currently stuck—more like wedged—in the bath by my hips, one leg bent in the water, the other ankle hooked on top of the faucet, and try as I might, I cannot prune the overgrown lady garden to save myself.

  This isn’t a new problem. I tried to get in to see my lovely Taiwanese aesthetician last week, and she informed me that she was fully booked for the next month. It’s my own fault. I figured I’d get to be the size of a whale—like I am now—and the last thing I’d want was sex because sex was what got me into this situation in the first place. Regardless, I begged and pleaded and made an absolute fool of myself, but she couldn’t fit me in. I could’ve booked somewhere else, but there’s a special relationship between a woman and the person she trusts with hot wax and her vagina.

  That doesn’t help me right now though. Horny, frustrated, and wanting to make a good impression when I jump Ezra, I thought I could just give myself a quick tidy-up down below, and all would be well.

  Except I couldn’t get the right angle with a mirror in one hand and a razor in the other, and there’s no way I can see around my giant pregnant belly full of my son whose latest trick is to bounce off my cervix like a trampoline.

  But I’m too stubborn and too proud to call out to Ezra to come save me. He poured a beautiful-smelling full bath for me, lit the few candles I had scattered around the room, then helped me down into the water and then left
me with a kiss on the lips and a spring in his step, no doubt caused by knowing he’s going to get himself some—and soon.

  It’s definitely not going to happen now, because by the time he comes looking for me, I’ll be a wrinkled, pruney mess and my vagina will resemble a soaked hedge attacked by a swordfish.

  My eyes sting with tears, but I blink them away. Then they start falling, and I try to swipe them off my cheeks until I can’t keep up and I drop the razor and my dignity and bury my face in my hands.

  The door creaks open, and I know this moment has just gone from bad to worse.

  “Are you still aliv—hey, what’s wrong?” Ezra asks, crossing the room. He gently pulls my arms away and tilts my chin up, his worried eyes searching mine. Dropping to his knees beside the bath, he pulls me in for a hug.

  “I’m getting you all wet,” I whimper.

  “Don’t care about that. I do care that you’re sitting in the bath crying when you’re supposed to be relaxing.”

  I bury my face into his neck, my shoulders shaking with sobs. “I… I… I can’t even shave myself.”

  He pulls back and frowns at me. “What? Why do you need to shave your legs?” My beautiful clueless man.

  “Not my legs…” I say, my voice cracking as the tears hit me again, my frustration and anger rising. “All I wanted was to make it easier for you,” I whine. Ez opens his mouth, but I’m too far gone. “And my waxing lady couldn’t fit me in, and now I’m going to give birth, and Dr. Cameron won’t know if it’s the baby’s head full of hair or my Sasquatch vagina,” I sob. “And then I got stuck!”

  “Sweetheart,” he says, all soft and warm, and making me want to slap him in my irrational pregnant rage. “You know I don’t care about—”

  My head snaps his way, and my eyes narrow to slits. “Every man cares about whether they can find their woman’s pussy or not, Ezra. You need to know where it is so you can see where to stick your big cmmph.” My words are muffled by Ezra’s hand covering my mouth, his lips twitching up yet his eyes gentle—albeit apparently amused by my meltdown.

  “I think I can help you out if you’ll let me.”