Bring Me Back(7)

I grab a spoon and my bowl, frowning at the now soggy cereal.

Oh, well.

I tuck my phone in my pocket and take a bottle of water from the refrigerator before heading upstairs. I don’t normally eat dinner in bed, but since it’s so late I decide to be adventurous. I turn on the TV and change it to a mindless reality show.

Winnie eventually wanders into the bedroom and when she sees that Ben’s not home she sticks her head up haughtily at me and jumps up on the windowsill that overlooks the front yard.

“He won’t be home until tomorrow,” I tell her.

She turns and glares at me with her glowing blue eyes. She acts like I tried to drown her as a kitten or something.

I get up and clean the bowl in the bathroom sink since I’m too lazy to go back downstairs.

I change into a pair of sleep shorts—I’m a hot sleeper—and one of Ben’s old school shirts. It’s gray and so worn you can nearly see through it, but I love it. He’s tried to throw it away, but I won’t let him.

I turn off the lights, but leave the TV on for the time being. I’m one of those people; when I’m by myself I start imagining all sorts of creepy things—like some man living under the bed waiting to eat me, or something else equally as silly.

Winnie moves from the windowsill to the doorway and lies down, making this displeased harrumph of a noise.

I settle beneath the mountains of blankets, and I drift off to sleep.

I wake up early, a little after six, and pad downstairs to make myself a cup of coffee. I grab my laptop and sit with it at the kitchen island. I’m all caught up on work emails, but there’s a pile of junk mail waiting for me. Delete. Delete. Delete.

I hate how quiet it is in the house when it’s only me, so I turn on the TV to a news station and let it play softly in the background.

I don’t have anything important to do this morning since it’s Saturday, and I still have hours until I meet the girls for lunch, so I end up grabbing a book, one of those historical romances with the woman draped over a guy and her bosom on display. As cheesy as the covers might be, I can’t help but love these books.

I settle on the couch and begin to read. Ben makes fun of me for my love of historical romances, but there’s just something about them.

The sun is up now and I make myself a quick breakfast before showering. I don’t feel like doing much with my hair so I end up styling it in a messy bun. A few short pieces of hair fall around my face. Keeping my makeup simple with eyeliner, mascara, and a nude lip., I move to the closet to dress in a pair of black jeans, a loose white top, and my army-green jacket. It’s fairly warm out, so I’m not worried about being too cold.

I’m slipping my feet into a pair of brown boots when I hear the front door open.

From the closet, I can see Winnie jump from the windowsill and run from the room.

Ben’s home.

I grab my purse and head downstairs to find Ben rummaging through the refrigerator. He grabs the bottle of orange juice, unscrews the cap, and lifts it to his lips.

“Hey,” he says when he sees me, and smiles bashfully knowing I caught him drinking from the bottle. It’s a pet peeve of mine but I can’t be mad when he’s so exhausted. His eyes boast dark circles beneath, but despite that, he’s grinning.

“Hey.” I smile at him and stand on my tiptoes to kiss his dimpled cheek. “I’m meeting the girls for lunch. They wish you could come.”

Ben grins. “It’s because I’m hilarious, right?”

I pat his chest. “You wish. Your jokes suck.”

He puts a hand over his heart. “You wound me, babe.”

“Actually—” I twirl past him “—I think they keep hoping one day you’ll show up with some hot doctor friends.”

Ben laughs loudly and his eyes sparkle. “Is that so?”

“It’s a hunch.” I shrug. “I made you something to eat.” I point to a plate, give him a kiss, and say, “Get some rest.”

He nods and stifles a yawn.

I start for the door and turn back to him. “You look good in those scrubs.” I wink and then cup my hands like I’m squeezing his ass.

He throws his head back and laughs. “I love you, Blaire.”

“Love you,” I say. “Oh, and Ben?” I linger in the doorway, suddenly feeling nervous. He looks up from the plate of food he’s uncovering. “Yes.”

“Yes?” His brows furrow in confusion. Before I can elaborate his eyes widen with clarity. “Yes, yes? You want to have a baby?”

I nod.

He rushes to me, and before I can blink, I’m in his arms and he’s spinning me around. His lips latch onto mine and he kisses me like I’m the ocean and he’s the moon. His lips taste of orange juice and the promise of great things to come.

He sets me down and holds my face between his hands. “Yeah? We’re doing this?” He grins so big that both his dimples pop out in his cheeks. He suddenly doesn’t look so tired. Just happy. So happy.

I nod and smile. “Yeah, we are.” He kisses me again. “I thought about what you said,” I continue, “and you’re right. It usually takes a while to get pregnant, and our wedding is so soon—”

He cuts me off with yet another kiss. “I love you,” he whispers, his eyes glimmering. “Let’s start right now.” He sweeps my legs out from under me.