In Between Heartbeats (Hearts in Waiting Duet: Book Two)

by Amanda Cuff

  He groans, grabbing for my arm when I try to get back up again. He pulls me down for more kisses, sliding his hand down my back and gripping my ass to pull me on top of him.

  “Just a few more minutes.” His words are staccato in between kisses and I laugh breathlessly.

  When his lips trail down my chest and lock onto a nipple, I gasp. “Okay. Just a few more minutes.”

  A few more minutes turns into an hour of rolling around in bed, sweaty bodies piercing the air with moans and giggles.

  When we’re finally on the road, it’s already ten in the morning, but I’m blissfully happy, curled up in the middle seat of Chase’s truck and snuggling into him.

  We spend the drive listening to music. Chase likes country, which I’m not too familiar with, but I laugh at his exaggerated twang while he sings about beer being the only thing to never break his heart. In between songs, he tells ridiculous jokes that no one in the entire world could possibly find funny other than him.

  Finally, we make it into Denver. Our first stop is an outdoor strip mall, which claimed online to have the number one trusted baby store in the city. I’m not sure what makes a store trusted or who votes on these kinds of things, but surely, they couldn’t get away with the claim if it weren’t true.

  When I walk through those double doors, I’m hit by the fresh scent of baby powder. Chase shuts the door behind us and stands beside me as we both stare out into the great unknown.

  A stage of cribs adorns one long wall and shelves of blankets, toys, and baby gadgets cover the opposite. Large racks of baby clothes in every possible shade of pastel are directly in front of us, tapering off into what appears to be different patterns and themes.

  Chase whistles. “This is—”

  “Overwhelming,” I finish for him and for the first time in weeks, I feel in over my head when it comes to this whole mom thing. “What am I even doing here? I don’t know what a baby needs. I don’t even know how to be a mom!”

  “Woah, woah, woah,” Chase says, grabbing my hand and turning me to face him. “What about all that research you’ve been doing? I’m sure you’ve picked up on a thing or two. Besides, our grandparents slept in dresser drawers and never used car seats. I’m pretty sure our baby’s going to be just fine.”

  I look back over the racks of clothes again, sighing. “Maybe we should wait until we know what we’re having. We don’t know if we should get boy stuff or girl stuff.”

  “If Willow was here, she’d tell you that colors are for everyone, which is just a fancy way of saying it doesn’t matter what the hell color we dress our baby in because he or she is going to look cute in anything.”

  “Well, when you put it that way,” I say on a laugh, turning back to the displays. “Okay, let’s do this.”

  I walk over to the cribs first. Only the front half of the crib is on display, but it gives me a general idea of how they would look fully put together.

  “Did you know cribs were this big? Where the heck are we going to put it?” I ask.

  He hums deep in his throat, his hands landing on my shoulders and massaging gently as he thinks about it. “We can always put the baby in your room. You know, since you’re rooming with me now.” He places a quick kiss to my head and shrugs. “We’ll figure it out.”

  “I think I like the gray,” I say, walking up to a boxy design in a deep charcoal color. “And look, it has a pullout drawer! That’s like finding out your dress has pockets.”

  “Uh, yeah. Definitely,” he agrees, a corner of his mouth tilting up.

  I laugh, shaking my head, then I move on to the lines of little outfits on the tiniest little hangers. I grab a pink frilly dress with little white roses covering the front and look at the size.

  “Six months,” I gasp. “But it’s so small! What do they wear at birth?”

  Chase searches for a second, then holds up an even smaller version of the dress with a look of dismay. “Newborn,” he mutters. “Jesus, I can’t even believe Willow ever fit into these.”

  I sigh dreamily at the beautiful dress and then hang them both up before I fall down the rabbit hole and end up buying it in every color available.

  “No clothes,” I say decidedly. “Not until we know what we’re having.”

  He nods and grabs for my hand, pulling me into the direction of the blankets. He peruses the shelves before snatching a set of swaddle blankets off the hook they’re hanging on. He turns to me, equal parts excitement and pride etched on his face.

  “Weren’t these what you were looking for?” he asks. “And look, they have duckies!”

  “Yes! I can’t believe you remembered.” I grab the package from his hands and fling it over to look at the back. “Or that you just said duckies.”

  His face is shocked, hand flying to his chest in offense. “It was twelve hours ago! Give me a little credit here.”

  “Yeah, you’ve just been very…busy during those twelve hours,” I explain.

  He wiggles his eyebrows, grabbing me around the waist and pulling me to him. “I was.”

  “Haven’t you had enough yet?” I laugh as he nuzzles into my neck, grabbing me by the chin and tipping my head back to give him better access.

  “Of you? Never.”

  When his hands start to roam, I swat them away and pull back, my cheeks warming at the uncomfortable look the woman at the cash register shoots my way.

  “You’re going to get us kicked out of a baby store,” I mutter, doing my best to tuck away my smile and appear serious.

  “But it’d be a great story to tell Bertha.”

  My laugh is so loud that the woman does another take, this time looking a little less patient. “Sorry!” I call to her, but she just snaps her head in the other direction and pretends to be sorting hangers.

  Chase looks amused over the whole thing as he tucks the package of swaddles under his arm and turns to the toys. While we’re sorting through them, he suddenly turns to me and says, “For what it’s worth, I think you’re going to be an amazing mom.”

  “Where did that come from?” I ask, taken aback by his words. He leans against the shelf, crossing his arms over his chest and staring at me like he’s seeing me for the first time.

  “Earlier, when we first got here, you said you didn’t know how to be a mom. And I just wanted you to know that you’re going to do great. There’s no doubt in my mind you’ll make the best mother to our baby.” He presses his lips to mine.

  The kiss is sweet and lazy, full of promise and affection and some other feeling that makes my chest ache in the most beautiful way.

  When he pulls away, I’m breathless, and he’s the brand-new owner of an old, beat-up heart that he’s somehow piecing back together.

  ✽✽✽

  “Oh my god, I feel like Anna when she runs around the castle singing about coronation day,” Chase whispers out of the side of his mouth.

  We’re sitting in the doctor’s office waiting room in anticipation of my twenty-week ultrasound. He’s been nervous and excited all morning, even dragging me out of bed an hour earlier than I’d planned. Now, he’s looking at me for confirmation that I feel the same, adjusting in his seat and wiping his sweaty palms down the length of his jeans.

  I know they’re sweaty because he keeps grabbing for my hand to grip in his own. But he’s too excited for decent hand-holding and keeps accidentally squeezing my fingers until they go numb.

  “Who’s Anna?” I ask, scrunching my face up in a frown of confusion. “Coronation day?”

  “Anna. You know, from Frozen,” he explains, as if that clears things right up.

  “Oh, Frozen!” Yeah, yeah, I’ve heard of that one. “Is that the movie with the little snowman?”

  “Yes, that’s Olaf.” He nods his head enthusiastically and lifts his arm to place it around my shoulder.

  “Oh, okay. Never seen it.”

  “What?!” He looks at me like he takes personal offense to the fact. “You’ve been living in the same house as Willow for almo
st two months and you’ve managed to sneak by without watching Frozen?”

  “Willow has already declared herself too old for animated movies. You’re really behind the times, buddy.” I pat his arm to help ease the blow.

  “Too old?! She’s ten! And she just watched the new Toy Story with me the other night.” He ticks his two points off on his fingers, trying to make enough of a case for my words to not be true.

  “Yeah, she’s trying to let you down easy.” When he screws up his face in confusion, I hold up my hands. “Hey, her words, not mine.”

  He sighs, laying his head back against the wall and closing his eyes. “Man, you think you know someone…”

  “Addison McCormick,” I hear.

  I look up to find a woman standing by the door that leads into the hallway of patient rooms, clipboard in hand and a cheerful smile on her face.

  “Finally, they’re opening up the gates,” Chase says quietly beside me.

  He jumps to his feet with a smirk and I trail behind him, convinced he’s losing his mind.

  An hour later, we’re on our way home after a quick stop at Blue for a blueberry donut and strawberry milkshake.

  “Nope, both,” he argues when I insist I can only eat one. “We’re celebrating a healthy baby!”

  Luckily, he’s grown accustomed to my need to eat every few hours since the baby makes it hard to eat much at one time.

  “Part of me wants to thank you and another part wants to forbid you from continuing to feed me like this. I’m going to be huge by the end of this pregnancy!” I’m not sure how much of my words he’s able to understand as they’re muttered between slurps.

  “You’re beautiful,” is all he says, the seriousness of his tone pulling me back from my shake. His eyes are full of heat and longing, a promise for later that I plan on holding him to.

  When we finally make it home, he opens the front door for me, his hand lingering on my lower back as he ushers me through. I try to keep moving, but the touch stops me. I’m not sure which one of us leans into the other, but soon we’re connected, his chest against my back and his hand on my hip. I let my head fall back against his shoulder, taking a deep breath and sagging into him.

  I don’t stop his hand as it rises from my hip and wraps around the top of my stomach. It rests there for just a second before his other hand wraps around the bottom. He pulls me tighter against him, cocooning my stomach, holding me and our baby at the same time.

  A few moments later, he nips at my ear. I mean to laugh but it ends up coming out as more of a moan when shivers run down my spine. I close my eyes, feeling his head bend toward me, his warm breath tickling my skin. His lips grazing my neck and—

  “Hurry up you two! The anticipation is killing me,” Emily croaks from the living room.

  I jump from his arms, spinning around and sending him a death stare.

  He manages a shaky laugh, hands up in surrender as I poke a finger into his hard chest. He dramatically falls back against the door, as if my push was enough to topple him over. He peeks out from half-lowered lids, and mouths a sorry, though his sly smile tells me he’s anything but.

  In the living room, Emily is right where we left her after Chase had carried her downstairs this morning. On the couch, propped up by a handful of pillows, with Willow tucked into her side.

  “It’s a girl, right?” Emily says. “Tell me it’s a girl.” Her words are slow and drawn out, and she has to stop talking to take deep breaths in between them.

  Still, I can feel her excitement, even if she can’t jump up and down to show it.

  “Nope,” I say giddily. “It’s a boy!”

  “Oh my gosh!” Emily’s eyes well with tears, her bony hands flying up to her hollowed out cheeks. “That’s so amazing. I hope he looks just like you, Chase.”

  “Me too,” I agree, smiling over at him.

  His grin is wide and his chest is puffed out in pride. He laughs and pulls me closer to him. “Man, it’s hard to even imagine holding a teeny tiny version of myself. We should name him Chase Junior.”

  “Ewww,” Emily says at the same I say, “No!”

  He looks at the two of us like we’ve each grown an extra head. “What? He’s my son! He should have my name.”

  I plan to smart back, but the look on Willow’s face has me stopping. She looks devastated.

  “Are you okay?” I ask her, taking a step away from Chase and closer to her.

  She jumps off the couch and stands defensively, as if preparing for a fight. At first, it looks like she’s fighting her emotions and trying to keep it all together. Her bottom lip starts to wobble and her cheeks twitch and pull in sadness, anger, disgust. Suddenly, she’s in tears, turning to Chase and yelling, “I don’t want a baby brother!”

  “Willow Anne!” His voice bellows loud enough to make me and Emily jump.

  I’ve never seen him raise his voice at her.

  “All you care about is your stupid son. I’m supposed to be your daughter. Don’t you care about that?” Willow bursts into tears and runs from the room, her feet pounding loudly as she makes her way up the stairs.

  Emily turns to me, panic etched on her face and tears begging to be let loose. “I’m so sorry.” She tries to push herself up, but her arms shake and she winces.

  “No, stay here, Em,” Chase says. He sighs, opening his mouth like he wants to say something else, but instead, he shakes his head and walks out of the room.

  20

  Chase

  Confused, sad, and admittedly a little irritated, I follow Willow up the stairs. She’s already run off into her room and slammed the door, so I take my time, contemplating everything that just happened and trying to figure out how it ended the way it did.

  I pause in front of her door, taking a few deep breaths to calm my anger, but her loud crying diffuses it on its own. It’s hard to stay mad at a ten-year-old who’s only doing her best to wade through all the bullshit being thrown at her. I tap my knuckle against the door twice before opening it. Willow is spread out on the bed, face down and crying into her pillow.

  I walk up beside her and nudge her leg out of the way. Lying down beside her, I cock my left arm behind my head and start rubbing her back with my right. I stay quiet until nothing more comes out of her other than little hiccups. Finally, she turns her head to the side and looks at me. Embarrassment and shame are written all over her face and it’s apparent she doesn’t need my lecture to know she was in the wrong.

  “Do you hate me?” she asks quietly, her tiny little voice so full of sadness that it breaks my heart.

  “I could never hate you,” I reply, brushing the hair out of her eyes and placing a kiss to her forehead. “What’s going on? Why are you so upset?”

  “I don’t know,” she replies with a shrug.

  “Oh, come on, yes you do.” When she doesn’t hurry to say anything else, I add, “You don’t have to be afraid to talk to me about how you feel, Willow. Nothing you say could ever make me hate you. But you seemed pretty upset down there.”

  She sighs, rolling over dramatically and sitting up on the bed. She grabs the black hair tie on her wrist and puts her hair up in a sloppy ponytail, aging her by five years. I want to yank that hair tie out of her hair and cut her bangs back to the way they were when she was five. Anything to trick myself into believing she’s still that little girl.

  “I’m worried you’re going to love the baby more than you love me,” she says quietly. She’s picking at her chipping nail polish, eyes glued to the bed.

  “What?!” I pull myself up and reach out to still her hands. “How could you even consider that?”

  “He’s going to be your son.” Her words pack a punch straight to my gut. They’re strained, like speaking them out loud hurts her. They hurt me too. The fact that she’s even questioning my love for her makes me feel like a failure.

  “And you’re my daughter,” I reply vehemently.

  “Not by blood,” she whispers. Fresh tears brim in her eyes, and w
hen I reach out to tip up her chin, they slide down her cheeks. She swipes at them angrily.

  “Willow, it doesn’t matter how you came to be in my life, only that you are in my life. You are my daughter. We’re the only two people I know who eat our sandwiches crust first. We both suck at darts and basketball and bowling, but that doesn’t mean we ever stop trying. And neither of us are any good at talking about our emotions, which means that sometimes, we hold things in until it hurts. A lot. And sometimes, that hurt comes out as anger and then it hurts others, even though neither of us would ever want to hurt the people we care about. Do you understand what I mean?”

  She nods, then leans into my arms and squeezes me tight.

  “Blood doesn’t make a family, Willow, but love does. And if there’s one thing we have plenty of, it’s love.”

  ✽✽✽

  When everything had blown over with Willow, Emily went right back into excitement mode over the baby, and despite Addison’s reluctance, insisted she needed a baby shower.

  Addison should have known there’s no telling Emily no. Once she sets her sights on something, there’s no going back. She’s going to get what she wants, one way or another. With so little to occupy her mind lately, I could tell she needed this and I certainly wasn’t going to stand in her way. Even if that meant driving an hour away for the perfect decorations that Addison just has to have at her baby shower.

  Don’t you think Addison deserves the best, Chase?

  And I do. Which is why I had taken an extended lunch break just to make the drive in secret. And it’s also why I’ve spent the past two weeks being Emily’s personal errand boy.

  I wouldn’t admit it to her face, but I was happy to handle all the details, no matter how ridiculous they seemed to be at the time. Like having to cancel not one, not two, but three flower orders until Emily finally found the right fit.