Page 81 of Coach Sully
As soon as I spin around at the mouth of the tunnel, I all but run into Whit Moreau. He shakes his head, telling me everything I need to know.
We weren’t being careful enough.
28 weeks pregnant
He places his hand on my thigh while we drive through the trees. Using my nails, I scratch lightly over the back of his palm, and he squeezes, sending a wave of pleasure up my spine. I love when he’s grabby. I agreed I would start moving in, which is how six boxes of my things ended up in the backseat before we decided to head home from our record store excursion.
I packed some clothes, bathroom toiletries, and a bunch of refrigerated food I don’t want to spoil. Seeing my fridge empty made it real. It’s fast, but it feels right. It’s not heavily weighed down by pregnancy or obligation. If we weren’t having a baby,I’d still be moving in. The problem is I have no idea where I will put all my things.
He parks and runs around to open my door. “You go in, I’ll grab these boxes.” Lately, he doesn’t let me lift a finger to do anything. He’s been very protective. I grab my oversized purse stuffed with a few items and head in. There’s no use in fighting him.
“Thank you,” I say with a smile, and pull his arm so he leans down and I can kiss him. I miss no opportunity to love on him. We’ve fallen into casual affection so easily. As soon as I enter the house through the kitchen, I’m surrounded by the smell of new construction. Fresh wood shavings and a slight odor of new paint. It smells like the studio after a new set build. I glance around the kitchen and notice nothing different, but as I walk through the house, I see the change. The entire living room has been redesigned, and along the longest wall are brand-new built-in shelves. My purse falls from my arm and clunks on the floor.
Oh my God. Are these…
“You needed a place to keep your records.”
I spin around to Sully leaning against the wall. He built shelves for my records. He didn’t give me a room, or a corner, or tell me there wasn’t space. He redesigned the main room of his house to fit my things.He made room for me.
“You remodeled your living room?”
“Ourliving room, baby girl. No more his and hers.”
My lump forms in my throat at the actions of this thoughtful, considerate, gorgeous man of mine.
Pressing my fingers to my chest, I stare at the shelves. “Oh my God, Sully.”
He pushes off the wall and stalks toward me. “Thought we could start moving them over this week, what do you think?”
“Yes,” I say, laughing. “This is way more room than I need though.”
“I’m sure you’ll find a way to fill it up.” He grins and walks to the center of the room. “You can pick out a rug to go here… and I thought this would be a good place to set up a spot for your record player.” He points to the striking record stand made of rich walnut. The craftsmanship is stunning. He’s recreating the room where I spent so much time with my mom. When we’d lay on the floor and stare at the ceiling listening to music for hours. Dancing or holding hands while on our backs. I get to do that with our child someday. Does he know how much this means to me?
I’m speechless. I meet him in the center of the room and wrap my arms around him. “You’re giving me future memories like the ones I had with my mother. Thank you.”
Leaning forward, he kisses me, and his lips curl into a smile.
“What?” I ask.
He says nothing, just takes my hand and leads me toward the bedroom.Ourbedroom? The grin on my face grows, and I bite my bottom lip; I’m about to get some. Then he passes by the bedroom, and I pout.
“Hey, I thought—”
He leads me into one of the guest bedrooms, and as I step over the threshold, I’m hit with the natural light from all the windows on the back wall. A black river flows behind the house, and the dark water meets the dense snow blanketing the world. The landscape looks like something from an Ansel Adams coffee table book, sans the white-capped mountains.
This bedroom had furniture in it before. Now it’s empty, except for a rocking chair.
“Thought this could be the nursery. I know it’s really blank, but I wanted to give you a blank canvas for you to decorate. Make it colorful. Put some Kendra in it.”
The thoughtfulness of this man is unparalleled. He wraps me up from behind and rests his hands on my stomach. The babykicks at that moment, so I guide his hand over where I feel the little thump. The kicks are getting stronger each day, but every time the baby is active, it seems Sully is at practice or in the office.
“Feel that?”
“No,” he whispers, as if staying quiet will help him feel it more.
I probe his fingers deeper, and Bo kicks again. He drops to his knees in front of me and places his palms near that side of my belly again. “Was that—”
I chuckle as he feels around, seeking more. Another kick.