Maybe Baby Lite (50 page)

“
So are you in for some
family fun?” he teased.

“
Why the hell not?” I
answered, smiling back at him.

“
Good. We’ll fly down
tomorrow after you get off work. How’s that?”

“
That’s fine with me, but
I’ve got a million things to do before then,” I said, leaping off
of the bed.

“
Whoa there,” Trey said,
pulling me back to him. “Not so fast, and I
will
ask you to be more careful, Ms.
Preston. After all, you're carrying my birthday
present.”

It took a moment for me to
register what he'd said. Then I realized—our baby had been
conceived on Trey’s birthday!

“
So you’re not mad your
birthday present is going to be nine months late?” I asked with a
grin.

“
Not at all, perfection
takes time, and our baby will be perfect.”

He reached over, cupping
my face in his hands and lowered his face to kiss me gently. I was
so in need of my Trey fix; I felt at peace.

We showered together and
then dressed for dinner. I'd offered to cook something at the house
but he insisted on taking me out. We went to a cozy bistro just a
few blocks away. I was famished these days and nothing tasted bad
to me. We talked about his family during dinner. His brothers would
not be coming in for Thanksgiving, which actually made me feel
better about going. I'd be nervous enough meeting his parents. Trey
said that his brothers usually made it back for
Christmas.

Trey’s father, Clive had
been born and raised in England. He would turn 70 years old in
January; his mother, Susan was born and raised in Virginia, not far
from Bristol. She'd met Trey’s father when she attended college in
England. She was two years younger than Clive. Both of his parents
had descended from families that were very involved with horses
either as trainers or breeders. Trey mentioned that his parents had
seen the video of the dressage competition that netted first place
for Derringer.

I decided to redirect the
conversation toward Trey’s past. “Are you ever going to tell me
about your relationship with Tess?”

His face darkened and I
hoped he wasn’t angry with me for bringing it up, though he'd
promised to tell me anything I wanted to know a while
ago.

“
What is it exactly you
want to know?” He was testy.

Did I really want to go
there? I decided that I did. “I want to know everything. How you
met. Why the engagement was broken. If you still love her,” I
finished, softly.

He looked at me
warily.

“
Not tonight Tylar.
Tonight I’d like it just to be about us, okay? I promise I’ll fill
you in another time.” He placed his hand over mine. “You look tired
Tylar. Let’s get you home and tucked into bed. It’s a work night
for you.” I nodded, allowing him to help me with my coat and take
my arm as we exited to the chilly November evening.

Once home, I went upstairs
and dressed for bed. When I returned downstairs, Trey was on his
laptop, checking email.

“
You don’t have Wi-Fi,” he
commented.

“
I don’t have a computer
anymore. Mom took it when she emptied the house out. I had a
desktop.”

“
We’ll have to see about
getting you one,” he stated.

“
Trey—” I started, but
Trey cut me off.

“
Tylar, there are certain
things with me that are non-negotiable. This is one. If you refuse
to go back to Atlanta with me, I can’t force you. But I have to be
able to communicate with you. Your phone needs updating and you
need a laptop too. I'll buy these for you, end of conversation.
Come kiss me good night.”

“
Aren’t you coming to bed,
Trey?”

He was sprawled on the
loveseat, his shoes off with his feet crossed resting on the coffee
table. “I’ve got some emails to answer, and then I’ll be up,” he
said, tugging my hand with his so that I was right next to the love
seat. I bent down and kissed him.

“
Don’t be too long,” I
said, brushing my hand against his crotch suggestively. My second
trimester hormones were raging and I'd plans for them. I skipped on
up the stairs to my room. I had no problem falling asleep once my
head hit the pillow. I felt safe knowing that Trey was in my home,
and that he would be next to me in bed.

I woke when I felt him
beside me. He was snuggled up against me; his arms enfolded me to
him. I could feel his steady heartbeat against me. His hands were
gently rubbing my neck and my hair.

“
Don’t ever leave me,
Tylar.” It was barely a whisper; I couldn’t be sure it was even
said. I wasn’t about to ask. I smiled peacefully. He pulled the
covers up over us. We slept naked, our limbs entangled with each
other for the rest of the night.

My alarm went off
precisely at 7:30 a.m. as usual. I stretched languidly in the warm
covers of my bed, still naked and it felt good against my sheets.
Trey wasn't in bed beside me. I hadn’t felt him leave the bed. A
feeling of panic hit me and I called out his name.

I heard steps in the
hallway; Trey poked his head in. The lower half of his face was
covered with shaving cream. A towel was wrapped around his hips.
“I’m right here,” he said. His hair was damp and tousled from his
shower.

I tried to pretend that
the panic I felt when I awoke and he was gone from my bed had not
driven me to call out his name. He was still watching me, waiting
for me to say something. “I was just wondering what you’re going to
do today while I’m at work?” That was a plausible
inquiry.

“
I’m planning on working
from here. I’ve got my phone and laptop. I’m going to see about
getting our reservations for the trip. Now get your sexy ass out of
bed and get ready. I’ll have your breakfast waiting.” He flashed a
grin and left my room.

I stretched again, rifling
my hands through my tousled hair and reluctantly scooted out of
bed. I shrugged into my pink robe and tied the belt around my
waist. I sorted through the clothes hanging in my closet, deciding
on my work outfit. I showered and dressed quickly, applying just a
hint of makeup.

Downstairs I could hear
Trey banging around in the kitchen, and a few mumbled curses
floated up to my ears as I descended the staircase. What now? He
was dressed in black jeans that looked heavenly on his perfect,
masculine body. He had on a grey long-sleeved Henley shirt. His
hair was still damp. He wore nothing on his feet but
socks.

“
You need to go to the
grocery,” he commented.

The source of his
irritation was plainly evident now. He'd flung cupboards open in
search of food. It appeared he'd found my lone box of Rice Chex and
had poured me a bowlful. The milk was on the table, along with
silverware and a small glass of orange juice. This was my normal
breakfast. I didn’t see a problem.

“
Thanks,” I said,
cheerfully, taking my place at the table. I poured milk on the
cereal looking up at him as I took my first spoonful.

“
This is what you eat for
breakfast every day?”

“
Uh yeah, why?”

“
Tylar, this is hardly a
substantial breakfast, particularly during pregnancy,” he chastised
me. “You see, this is exactly why you need to be with me in
Atlanta,” he said, irritated.

This was exactly why I
shouldn’t be with him in Atlanta, I thought to myself. “Trey, let’s
not argue about what I eat for breakfast, please? It’s not good for
the baby.”

“
What?” he asked, puzzled.
“What’re you talking about?”

“
I’ve read up on
pregnancy. Babies are much more aware of things going on in utero
than you might think. For example, babies can start hearing things
at 18 weeks and respond to sounds. I know that I’m a few weeks away
from that, but I'm trying to get into the habit of not raising my
voice, or being verbally combative. When this baby is born, I
certainly don’t want him or her to think
I’m
the harsh parent.”

Trey cocked his eyebrow at
my insinuation. I saw a hint of a smile cross his lips. “Then
Tylar, I suggest we stop fucking,” he replied, a look of sincere
concern on his handsome face. “I’d hate for our child to hear some
of the things that Mommy screams when Daddy hits her special spot.”
He was unable to contain his laughter when he saw that I finally
realized he was teasing. I had to laugh as well. It was so seldom
Trey was playful with me and I loved it.

I gave him a kiss before
leaving, telling him that I'd be home right after work. Fortunately
the day flew by. I finished updating all of the files, and was able
to close three out that were finally at $0 balance. Everyone was
energized about the long Thanksgiving weekend.

When I pulled into the
driveway at home, my butterflies surged at the thought of seeing
Trey. The front door was open. Trey was busy in the living room
programming my new phone. “Hey you,” he said with a smile as I
entered. “Your phone's ready,” he said, handing it to me. “Let me
show you how everything works.” He'd added my phone to his service
plan.

“
Trey,” I said, “it’s not
that I don’t appreciate everything you’ve done here. But I have
money saved up. I'd feel better if you'd let me reimburse
you.”

“
Don’t be ridiculous,
Tylar,” he snapped. I'd hit that nerve again. “I explained this to
you last night. These are the conditions that allow you to stay
here instead of coming back to Atlanta with me.”

Ahem—Conditions?

“
Trey,” I said not making
an attempt to mask my irritation, “this is not about you imposing
conditions in order for me to stay in
my
own home in the town where
I live
. This is about me
having what I can afford to provide for myself, without depending
on you or anyone else. I may have been born of trash, but I do have
some pride and I'd appreciate your respect.” I turned to leave,
feeling angry and insulted. I hadn’t reached the landing to the
stairs, when Trey was there, pulling me around to face his angry
eyes.

“
Listen to me,” he hissed,
wagging his forefinger at my startled face, “do you understand what
you’ve done to me? Do you know how much you’ve driven me to
distraction?” He was livid, but not so much at me as he seemed to
be at himself.

“
I can’t get the picture
of you, or the feel of you, or the smell of you out of my head.
This is not a now-and-then thing, Tylar, this is a daily thing. I
worry about you. Do you understand that?” His blue eyes blazed as
he awaited my response, his hand heavy on my shoulder.

“
Do you?” he repeated,
angrily.

I nodded, afraid to speak.
His nearness electrified me. He didn’t realize that he did those
same things to me. My lips wanted him to kiss me, my heart wanted
him to love me, and my hormones, well they were all about him
spanking me at the moment.

He relaxed his grip. His
eyes softened. A tear rolled down my cheek. His thumb was right
there to brush it away. He tilted my chin upward to meet his lips.
They were soft, warm, and gentle as they caressed my own. I circled
my arms around his strong neck, pressing myself to him. He held me
tightly against him, stroking my hair gently.

“
Our flight's at 9 p.m.
tonight,” he said, glancing at his watch. "Come on I think we've
time for a short nap," he said, giving me a sexy grin, as he pulled
me by the hand upstairs behind him.

Trey and I flew
first-class from Louisville to the Tri-Cities Regional Airport. Our
flight was delayed in departing out of Louisville. I was tired from
the last couple of days and fell asleep almost as soon as we took
off. I knew Trey had planned on working from his laptop on the
plane, but having me sprawled across his lap for the majority of
the flight interfered with those plans.

I was glad Trey had
arranged for a limo to take us to his the manor. Trey and I climbed
in as the driver stowed our luggage. I resumed my nap in the limo,
curled up against Trey.

“
Why do I think that
you'll keep me up all night as much as you’ve slept this evening?”
he commented.

“
Are you complaining?” I
asked, winking at him.

“
Not at all, Ms. Preston,”
he quipped.

I placed my hand
possessively on his crotch, gently massaging his junk, feeling his
erection grow beneath my touch. I looked up and a naughty smile
played on his lips. He did nothing to stop me but unfortunately, we
were pulling up to the manor right about then.

“
Well you've managed to
delay my entrance to the house with your shenanigans, Tylar," he
complained, moving my hand from his crotch. Trey adjusted himself
as best he could. The driver carried our bags up to the front
porch, as Thatcher opened the door.

“
Ms. Preston, Mr.
Sinclair, welcome back,” Thatcher greeted us warmly at the
door.

“
Hi Thatcher,” I replied
smiling. Trey followed with our bags conveniently shielding him,
greeting Thatcher with a nod. He asked Thatcher to take both of our
bags to his suite as he helped me off with my coat. I'd chosen a
dark brown and powder blue plaid wool skirt, with a powder blue
oversized crew neck sweater, tan tights, and dark brown leather
boots. I'd french braided my hair, a look Trey called "very
demure."