by P. Jameson
Annie bristled, but she knew bastard was actually a term of endearment coming from Punk.
“Nothing exactly. More like, what he hasn’t done.”
“Give me a little more to go on.”
Annie huffed, frustrated. “I don’t know how to explain it. He stares at my belly like it’s a foreign object. He’s so worried all the time, he won’t let me even carry the groceries in. He won’t talk to me.”
“Like at all?”
“No, like… about what’s bothering him. And now? Now he won’t let me touch him. And like, that’s not okay. Not when I’m… you know…”
Punk’s lip ring glinted with her smirk. “When the constant state of arousal makes you want to rub your lady bits all over his face and hope your prego belly doesn’t smother him?”
“Well… yes. That.”
Punk picked out an order pad from the drawer and gave Annie a sideways look. “It sounds to me like Blister is having trouble coming to terms with the pregnancy.”
Annie frowned. “You think he doesn’t want the young?” Please don’t let that be it.
“No,” Punk said, shaking her head. “If he didn’t want young, he wouldn’t have knocked you up in the first place, no matter what his wolf said. Nah, this is more complex than that. He hasn’t accepted what’s happening to you yet, hasn’t bonded with the baby.”
Annie sighed, feeling an ounce of relief. Maybe this was normal. “Did this happen with you and Beast?”
“No.” Punk laughed. “Beast was talking that goo-goo gah-gah shit to my belly before there was even a belly. He was ready to be a father before his sperm every bounced with my egg, if ya feel me.”
Annie gave Punk a look and she sobered.
“But all men are different, you know. And Blister’s even more different than his brothers. He just needs to figure shit out. He’s feeling threatened. Remind him who he is.”
“Threatened? Over our baby?” How could that be it.
“Threatened, yes. Over his new role in your lives. He won’t just be your mate now. He’ll also be your baby’s daddy. Two are becoming three. Trust me, Annie, that can be scary as fuck for some people.”
She could understand that sorta. If she let herself think about the massive responsibility of being a mother, it sometimes crippled her. What if she screwed up? What if she wasn’t what her young needed? What if she forgot to feed him—or her—or dropped him on his head or… or…
Normally, she only focused on the joy that filled her heart at the thought of holding a soft, warm, sweet smelling child in her arms. One she could call her own. And it chased all the fears away like a knight could chase away a wicked dragon.
Maybe Punk was right. Perhaps she just needed to remind Blister who he is.
The light in her morning. The smile in her busy day. The pleasure in her night.
Her brave, battle scarred warrior, and the winner of this race they were driving together.
He was hers.
Chapter Three
Annie was relieved to see Blister’s truck parked in its usual spot in front of her inherited two story colonial. She pulled in behind it and shut off the ignition, maneuvering her stomach out from behind the steering wheel. Slowly, she made her way up the porch stairs, her aching feet making her regret wearing her flats instead of tennis shoes.
She was getting too pregnant for fancy footwear.
Unlocking the door, she eased inside. The rancid scent of burnt tomatoes assaulted her nostrils and gave her a tiny pause as she waited to see how her stomach would react. Early on, she’d been extremely sensitive to food smells, her tummy unable to tolerate anything zesty or not bananas. Difficult when your profession involves cooking.
“Shit.” Blister’s muttered curse traveled from the kitchen to the living room as the sizzling of water boiling over had her rushing forward. Something clattered, ringing metal against metal. “Goddamn it,” he hissed.
In the kitchen, she found her mate splattered with red sauce and moving between three different pots in a frenzy, trying to keep everything from burning. A smile played at her lips as she watched him, fiddling with the dials on the stove and stirring at the same time, the muscles of his back so tense they probably hurt.
She tossed her purse on the counter. “Hey,” she said, unsure. Her instinct was to help him, but they’d left everything so weird earlier.
He glanced over his shoulder, his forehead sagging with disappointment, before his gaze was pulled away by the crackle of water hitting flame.
Annie stepped up beside him, reaching around to turn all the dials to low. “Lemme help,” she whispered, biting her lip to hold in her grin. Carefully, she moved the pots off the burners and watched everything quiet before looking over at Blister. He was staring at the mess so defeated.
“This was supposed to be all finished before you got home.” His voice was quiet but steady. He looked at the bar and then back to the ruined dinner on the stove, measuring.
For the first time, she noticed he’d set the bar with their nice dinnerware and put out a bottle of sparkling juice since she couldn’t have the real stuff. The silver wolf head candlesticks they’d received as a mating gift from their alpha, Drake, and Ella, his mate, sat between the plates with fresh tapers, ready to be lit.
Her heart cracked wide open. He was trying to do something nice for her. He was always doing that. From the very first time they met during the tornado that hit Cedar Valley years ago. Her house had been damaged, the windows blown out and the roof torn off. She’d come home to find him covering the holes with plastic, and he’d even hired a crew of werecats from the Ouachitas to come fix the damage.
This—the candlelight dinner—was his apology for earlier, but instead of saying the words, he was trying to show her.
Except he’d only made a mess.
She turned to him, but he’d jammed his hands in his pockets. He stared at the floor, brow furrowed, his jaw clenched tight. Annie watched, wanting to touch him so badly, but unwilling to make him more uncomfortable. She knew her mate, and whatever he was battling, it wasn’t going to get better by her pushing.
But he must have smelled the tears that wet her eyes because his gaze snapped up, furious. She was touched by his sweet gesture, yes, but he misunderstood.
“I’ll clean it up,” he said quickly, reaching for a towel to wipe the stove. “And I’ll order something. Anything you want. You go ahead and sit down now. I’ll take care of this.”
“No, silly.” She gave a watery laugh, and snatched the towel out of his hand. Carefully, she stepped closer until the roundness of her belly touched his taut abs. Reaching up, she dabbed some tomato sauce from his eyebrow. He leaned in ever so slightly, like his body was eager for her touch. It was a good sign, and she let out a little breath of relief. “I don’t care about the mess. Or the food. Only you.” She drew in a shaky inhale, whispering, “and you’re a mess.”
He looked down at his shirt, the breath easing from his chest. “I got sauce everywhere it seems.”
Her mouth curled at the side and she stared up at him, loving him so much it brought fresh tears to her eyes. Dang pregnancy hormones. But she didn’t let them fall.
His eyes settled on her and they were wary.
“Got some right here,” she murmured, catching a spot on his cheek. “And here.” She eased forward and licked the drop of red at the corner of his mouth, grinning when a soft growl escaped his throat.
Annie pulled back, tipping her head to the side and rubbed her tongue on the roof of her mouth like she was tasting his creation. “I see the problem,” she murmured, smacking her lips.
Blister raised an eyebrow, the one twisted by his scar. “That I can’t boil pasta water? Do most people burn water?”
“Nope. The problem is you’ve scorched the sauce.”
He nodded, glaring at the pot. “That explains the smell.”
“Do you remember when we first became close? You stood right there.” She pointed to the counter sp
ace beside the stove. “And helped me cook food for the cats while they worked on my house.”
“I remember hoping you’d touch me on accident since the kitchen was so small.”
She felt her cheeks heat with a blush.
“I think we should do that again, right now.”
“You do, huh?”
Annie nodded. “We can fix dinner together. That is… if you’re hoping I’ll touch you some more.”
He stared at her, his lips pressed into a line, debating her offer.
“Go get me a can of crushed tomatoes from the pantry,” she urged.
Grabbing the sauce pan, she took it to the sink to wash it out. Washing dishes was becoming awkward with her baby bump. She had to twist sideways to reach the sink now.
Blister opened the can and set in on the counter.
“Let me.” His voice was soft and came from just over her shoulder. “You’ll hurt your back like that.”
Smiling, she stepped aside, but just enough to let him get to the sink.
“Why are you so patient with me?” he asked low as he worked the suds.
His question caught her off guard. “I’m not patient. I just love you. So your struggles don’t bother me.”
He was silent as he rinsed the pan.
“Don’t you feel the same about me?”
“Your struggles bother me a lot. I want to make them disappear and I get frustrated when I can’t make that happen.”
Annie leaned against the counter, taking some of the pressure off her back.
“But that isn’t your job, Blister. It’s to love me and support me while I work through my own problems. It’s the same for you.”
He set the pan on the stove and she began adding garlic and spices. Wordlessly, they cleaned up the mess and she put the water back on to boil. Soon the sauce was simmering, filling the kitchen with the scent of savory tomatoes. The water rolled at a steady boil instead of bubbling over the edge.
“Drop the pasta,” she murmured, and he added two nests of dry angel hair while she stirred.
“I’m sorry for today.” His tone was barely a breath, but she could sense his inner turmoil through their bond.
“I know.” She let her arm accidently graze his as she slipped past him to the fridge to get the salad fixings.
Blister leaned against the bar, bracing his arms on the countertop, and watched her. He let out a long sigh. “I’m… I’m not trying to hurt you so much. I never ever want that.”
Again, his words threw her. What was going on in that complex head of his to make him think like this?
“It’s just…” He ran a hand through his hair in frustration, making the light brown tips stand on end. “Shit. I can’t do this.”
He pushed off the counter and turned to leave, but she stepped in his path, stopping him. “Blister…” She took his hands in hers and brought them up to cradle her face. “It’s me,” she whispered. “You can tell me what’s wrong. And someday, you’ll have to. Because this poison can’t stay between us, whatever it is. But right now, I just want you to kiss me. Take back what you said at the bar about touching you, and promise to never say it again.”
His eyes burned into her as his thumbs brushed softly over her cheeks. “I’ll never say it again, Annie. I promise I won’t. I never meant it anyway.” He kissed her softly, his lips grazing hers in adoration, sealing his promise.
Her eyes closed at the sensation of his mouth on hers. He was like home for her. The place she could always fall into and be safe.
One arm wrapped around her waist, he swayed with her, barely dancing to music that couldn’t be heard because it was in his heart, singing to hers. He showered her with the softest pecks on her cheek and jaw and the corners of her mouth, nuzzling under her ear as he liked to do, to draw in her scent.
Annie sighed. Her sensitive wolf. She had to remember, how far they’d come in their time. She wished he’d remember it too, and give himself a break from the guilt he held onto.
“You smell happy, mate,” he murmured, nipping her earlobe gently. “Did I do that?”
“Yes.” She giggled, and Blister froze, his mouth against her neck.
“What was that?”
“What?” She tried to pull away, but he held her close, his hand on her lower back, pressing her stomach into his.
Inside, she felt the rapid bumpbumpbump sliiiiiiide of the baby’s feet. It was either using her as boxing practice or doing the Electric Slide. She wasn’t sure which.
“That,” Blister said, his voice rising as he pulled back to look at her with a frown.
A smile spread her face. “That’s our baby. He’s very active tonight. Probably because you’re around. He really likes his daddy.”
His frown deepened, pulling at his scars, and he brought his gaze down to her bump. “He does?”
“Mm hm. He loves it most when you sing. He likes your voice as much as I do.”
“H-how can you tell?” Tentatively, he reached out to place his palm against her belly and the baby went another round from the inside.
Annie giggled. “Because he does that. It’s a happy dance, I’m pretty darn sure.”
“Happy dance,” he murmured, adding his other hand to her bump, and receiving another baby kick in return. “Our baby is happy? Can you feel that through the bond?”
Since their young was half shifter, she and Blister would both share a parental bond with the baby, similar to their mating bond.
“No. I don’t feel the shifter bond yet. Do you?”
He shook his head, his gaze still intent on her wiggling belly.
“It will come later.”
Ella was the first of the mates to have young. She’d explained to Annie the parental bond grew stronger through the pregnancy, coming to fullness at birth. That’s when Blister would feel it too.
The baby somersaulted, making Annie’s stomach bulge on one side before sliding slowly back to normal.
“Whoa,” Blister said, and his eyes lit up. He sounded like a little kid watching a race from the stands in awe. An amazed smile curved his lips, the arch a tad jagged from his scar, but no less wonderful. “She’s a wild thing. Probably gonna be a fiery little female just like you.”
He dropped to his knees on the tile and lifted her shirt so her entire round bump was showing. She frowned a little at the angry red stretch marks, but Blister didn’t seem to mind them. His expression was happy as he ran his hands over her skin, trailing the baby’s movement with his fingers.
“What’s it feel like?” he whispered.
“Nice, mostly. Sometimes he gets a little rough and catches me in the ribs. But mostly it’s amazing.” Her eyes went wet again and she silently cursed the hormones making her super sensitive. “Amazing. Something our love created, growing right there inside of me. I can’t wait for him to get here, Blister. Can you imagine holding the little thing? He’s going to be so tiny in your hands.”
A flash of some troubled emotion showed on his face but then it was gone.
“Do you think…” He pressed his lips together. “Do you think I’ll do okay? With something so little? So fragile?”
“Of course.” She brushed her fingers through his hair. “He’s yours so I know you’ll take the very best care of him. I’m not worried a bit.”
“You’re not?”
“No way.”
Slowly, he bent his head and touched her belly with a tender kiss. “Mine,” he confirmed, but he didn’t sound like he was talking to her. “Now be careful with your mommy, you hear? She’s very special, and makes very good food, and I love her. You’ll see when you get here.” The young kicked again, but easier this time, as if agreeing to Blister’s terms, and he rubbed the spot with his thumb. “Good little female,” he murmured.
“What makes you think it’s a girl? Could be a boy. There’s a fifty-fifty chance.”
He grinned up at her. “Guess we’ll have to wait and see.”
The sudden crackle of water streaming over t
he side of a pot jerked their attention back to the stove.
Blister jumped to his feet to take the pan off the burner, but it was too late. One look, and Annie knew they’d ruined dinner a second time.
A laugh escaped her as she watched her mate carry the pasta to the sink. Glancing over his shoulder, his lips twisted. “I don’t think we’re having spaghetti tonight.”
“I don’t think so either.”
He abandoned the pot in the sink and snatched his phone off the counter. Then he stalked past her, doubling back to grip her chin and plant a hard kiss on her lips before shuffling through the take-out menu drawer.
She watched him with a satisfied grin. “What are you doing?”
“I’m ordering pizza. And while we’re waiting for it to be delivered, I’m going to make you come. Twice.”
Chapter Four
Blister rummaged through the freezer, looking for his mate’s favorite ice cream. Peppermint Candy Crunch. The one with the white ice cream and both red and green candies. Because apparently it was different than the one with the pink ice cream and red candies. It was only available at Christmastime, so his Annie had lucked out reaching the ice cream stage of her pregnancy now.
The carton was more than half empty, so he grabbed a spoon from the drawer and made his way up the stairs with it. He’d fed her, fucked her, and now he was going to fill her with ice cream. Because he just wanted to pile all the happiness up and bury her in it. In case he did or said something stupid again. The goal was more happy times than fucked-up times, that way the good Blister gave her outweighed the bad.
He strolled into their room, and just the sight of her lounging in their bed made his breath pause in his chest. He loved her so damn much. She lay on her side, knees pulled up, naked and bared to him. Her head rested on her curved arm, bent to watch her huge belly. One hand swept gently over the taut skin.
The baby thriving inside his mate made Blister unexplainably happy. Before tonight, he’d only been focused on Annie’s wellbeing. But seeing and feeling his young’s reaction to his presence had put things into perspective for Blister. At least somewhat.
