He takes his time, washing first me, then him. His face is somber the entire time. Once we’re both rinsed, he turns off the water and climbs out. Sopping wet, he tends to me first like he always has, wrapping me in a towel and running another though my hair. When he’s satisfied, he grabs one for himself and ties it around his waist.

  I watch as he pulls out a pair of boxer briefs and slides into them, followed by a pair of black lounge pants. That tells me we’re in for the day, so I grab panties, my maternity leggings because they are life with this belly, a bra, and a Soul Serenade T-shirt. His lips tilt up in a smile when he sees what I’m wearing. That’s a good sign.

  “I thought we could watch a movie. You want some popcorn?” he asks.

  “Sure,” I agree.

  Downstairs, I get settled on the couch with my throw blanket, Tristan joins me a few minutes later with two bottles of water and a huge bowl of popcorn. I hold up the blanket and invite him in with me. He doesn’t disappoint, settling in close.

  “You okay?” I finally ask.

  “No, but that’s on me.”

  “Tristan, you can’t beat yourself up over this.”

  “I can. Dammit, Lauren, do you not understand that it would destroy me if I lost either of you? Do you not get that?”

  “I know,” I reply gently. “I get it, I do, but babe, this isn’t on you. There’s nothing you could’ve done.” He doesn’t bother with a response. “You know what you can do?”

  It takes a while, but he turns to face me. “What’s that?” I can see it in his eyes. He thinks I’m going to ask for something, and being the man I know he is, he’s going to jump over hurdles to make it happen. The thing is he already does. Every day.

  “What you can do is love us. Love us so hard that when the bad shit happens, we know without a doubt that you’re there.”

  “Lauren.” My name is a plea on his lips.

  “That’s all any of us can do, Tristan. Bad shit happens to good people. It’s just a little paint and some ruined clothes. We can live with that. Her little act of revenge, or whatever it was in her head, is nothing but a blip on the radar of our lives.” Grabbing his hand, I place it over my belly. “We’re fine, you’re fine, our family is fine. We couldn’t be more blessed. Let’s focus on that.”

  “You’re an amazing woman, Lauren Lewis.”

  “Meh, you should meet my husband,” I say, hoping to lighten the mood. And based on the smile on his face, it worked. I see him finally relax against the couch as we watch our movie. I couldn’t tell you what we were watching, because once he relaxes, so do I, falling fast asleep.

  We got news yesterday that Tracy basically got her second slap on the wrist for her outburst of paint. Inducing panic or some shit. She got probation. I hate it, but that’s the legal system for you.

  Lauren and I went down to the police station and filed to have the temporary restraining order extended until at least after Zach is born. The judge granted the request without question. My attorney says getting a permanent order is probably not on the table unless she fucks up again. This chick is crazy, but the only good thing is that she’s harmless. Yes, it was paint, and I’m still fucking mad as hell, but it could’ve been much worse.

  Lauren has been a trooper with all of this. I was worried as hell about dragging this into her life, but she’s right, it comes with who I am. I can’t change that, even if I wanted to.

  My wife is amazing. No other way to look at it.

  My phone rings, shaking me out of my thoughts. A smile breaks across my face when I see my dad’s number.

  “Hey, you two,” I greet, knowing they’ll have me on speakerphone.

  “Today’s the shower. Is Lauren excited?” Mom asks.

  “Lauren? You know I’m going to be there too,” I tease her.

  “Yeah, yeah, but it’s for the mom. She’s doing all the work, Tristan. Remember that.”

  “I know, and if I could do it for her, I would.”

  “I know you would. That alone shows how much you love her.”

  “She’s the air I breathe.”

  “Since when did baby showers become for men?” my dad asks over the line.

  “Hush,” Mom scolds him.

  “I don’t know. The only other baby shower I’ve been to was Logan’s, and we were all there.”

  “Of course you were. You’re family,” my mom says. “Did the gift I sent arrive?”

  “It did. It’s sitting in the living room. Lauren refuses to open it until the shower.”

  “I wish I could be there,” she murmurs.

  “You didn’t know when Logan was planning it. Besides, Europe has to be more exciting,” I say, trying to make her feel better.

  “Europe is amazing, but this is my grandson we’re talking about,” she defends.

  “Now look what you’ve done,” Dad laughs. Gotta love speakerphone conversations. “You kids have fun. We’ll be sure to send lots of pictures.”

  “We’ll be home when he’s born. I already told your father, we’re cooling it on the trips for a while after that. I need to spoil my grandson properly,” Mom says.

  I laugh. “I have no doubt. Love you.”

  “Love you too, son,” they say at the same time. I hear laughter in the background as I end the call.

  My parents share a love that’s like no other. I see that in Lauren and me too. I hope we’re still this happy after thirty years of marriage.

  My beautiful wife chooses that moment to join me. “Logan just called. They’re on the way over.”

  “I’m glad we decided to have the shower here,” I tell her. “We won’t have to lug all the gifts home.”

  “It was very thoughtful of them to think of that,” she says sweetly. “Besides, it’s just our small group, plus Cassidy, but I consider her part of us. Then there’s Stacy’s mom, my mom, Logan’s, and Gran.”

  “I’m glad they could make the trip. Gavin already called and said they’re on the way.”

  “Oh I’m sure he’s charming the pants off them,” she laughs.

  “He’s a ladies’ man.”

  “You’re one to talk.”

  “Hey,” I scoff, placing my hand over my chest. “I take offense to that. There’s only one lady for this man.” I lean in for a kiss, my hands on her belly because I can’t keep them off her. The bigger our son grows, the more I want to touch her. Everywhere. “How’s our little man today?”

  “Active.”

  At twenty-six weeks, she’s been feeling him move a lot. I’ve yet to feel it though; I either get to her too late, or it’s while I’m at the label working. When she and Logan went shopping, Kace came out to the car to get Logan’s bags and even he got to feel him. I was upset at first, but I know that’s crazy. Since that day, I keep my hands on her as much as I can, hoping to feel him. I stay close to her when I can, not willing to miss it when it finally does happen when I’m around.

  By the time everyone arrives, Lauren and I are set up in the living room on the love seat. Everyone else is scattered around, chairs pulled in from the kitchen and dining room to accommodate everyone. We’re in the middle of gifts, which there are way too many of for the small number of people in attendance.

  “What are we going to do with all this stuff?” I ask.

  Kacen lets out a deep booming laugh from his seat on the recliner where Logan sits on his lap. “Brother, you have no idea how much one little dude will need.”

  Lauren gasps and grabs my hand, resting it on her stomach. At first I think something is wrong until I feel it. It’s subtle, but it’s there. I block everyone else out; there is no one else in the room, but me, my wife, and our unborn son.

  Sliding off the couch, I kneel before her and kiss her belly. “Hey, buddy. It’s me, your dad. Can you do that again for me?” I ask softly.

  My little man doesn’t disappoint as I feel a soft bump against my hand. I look up at my wife and she has tears in her eyes. I won’t lie, mine are there too, threatening to fall. This is one of the most spectacular moments in my life.

  “He hears you,” she whispers.

  Turning my gaze from my wife back to our son, I start to lift her shirt when she stops me.

  “Ren, baby, I need to see,” I say, trying again.

  “Tristan, next time.” She looks around the room nervously, and that’s when I remember where we are.

  Leaning in, I kiss my son one more time before taking my seat beside Lauren, capturing her lips with mine. “I love you both, more than I can ever tell you.”

  “Thank you.” A set of arms wraps around me, and it takes me a minute to register that they belong to my mother-in-law. “Thank you for loving them the way you do. I’ve never seen a more tender moment in my life.

  “Never thank me for loving them. It’s as simple as breathing,” I tell her honestly.

  She nods, hugs Lauren, and then takes her seat.

  “Right, okay. Next gift,” Lauren says, grabbing a bag from the table beside her.

  We work our way through the rest of them, and I smile and nod, even comment when necessary, but all I want to do is hold my wife. I want everyone out of my house, so I can show her how much I love her and our son. How much of a gift she is in my life. Both of them. Today has been surreal, a day I’m sure to never forget.

  After presents, we sit around eating and laughing, having a good time. Celebrating the life of my son.

  My son.

  I remember a conversation I had with Kacen the day he brought Drew home from the hospital. It was just the two of us sitting in his living room. He said he’d been around the world, seen some amazing places, experienced things that many only dreamed of, and none of it compared to watching his son being born. That stuck with me, and in just a few short months, I get to find out firsthand how that feels.

  I’ll have to remember to pass that little nugget of wisdom on to Cole.

  As I load the final purchase of the day into the back of my SUV, I’m exhausted but I feel accomplished. There were still a few things we needed for the baby and a few things that I wanted but weren’t really necessities. Tristan insisted I use my AmEx and take care of it.

  I’m thirty-four weeks today, so we only have six short weeks before Zachary gets here. His room is ready for the most part. We chose blue and green contrasting walls and went with a jungle theme. I found the cutest little mobile with all kinds of musical instruments, but Tristan shut me down. He said he wanted our son to decide his future, and pushing his career choice on his son isn’t the kind of parent he wants to be.

  I bought more today than what I’d planned, but I couldn’t help it. After talking with Logan, I had an idea of what we might need: lots of receiving blankets and burp cloths, extra crib sheets, and the regular clothes. Well, that last part was all me; they were just too cute to pass up. I also found a ‘manly’ diaper bag. Not that Tristan would care what it looked like, but I just thought it would be nice just in case. Who knows, we may never even use it.

  It was exciting to just take a day and shop for the little man. Drew is cutting teeth and fussy, so I didn’t ask Logan to go with me, and Stacy already had plans with her mom. I was bummed at first, but it turned out to be a great day. I took my time, on my own schedule, which probably resulted in buying more than we needed, but it was therapeutic in a way. I feel like we’re finally ready for his arrival.

  Climbing into the car, I start the engine but don’t make a move to go anywhere. It’s just before four, and Tristan said he was hoping to be done about now at the studio. Pulling up his contact, I hit Call.

  “Hey, baby,” he answers.

  “Hey, how was your day?”

  “Good. We actually just had a jam session today. It was good to get back into it you know?”

  “That’s great.”

  “How about you? Did you get Zach all squared away?”

  “Uh, yeah, and then some,” I laugh at my confession.

  “Finally you do what you’re told!” he chuckles.

  “Listen, Mr. Lewis, just because you have money does not mean I should blow it.”

  “Listen, Mrs. Lewis, we have money and lots of it. It’s important that our son has everything he needs. When we bring him home, you’ll need your rest, so it’s better to get everything now and be prepared.”

  “Were you a Boy Scout?” I tease him.

  He lets out a deep booming laugh. “I was not, but if Zach wants to be, I’m cool with it.”

  “Of course you are,” I tell him. “You’re that dad, the one who lets his kid be who he is and embraces it. Zach is a lucky little boy.”

  “I miss you,” he says in reply.

  “Do you now?”

  “I do. You headed home?”

  “I am, actually. I have a lot of bags to bring inside.”

  “I’m headed there too, so leave that to me. I’ll stop and pick up some dinner on my way.”

  “Prefect. Love you.”

  “Love you too, Ren.”

  I don’t know how he does it, but Tristan beats me home, climbing out of his truck as I pull in. He rushes to my door and helps me down, surprising me when he gently pushes me against the SUV and claims my lips with his.

  “I fucking missed these lips,” he says, resting his forehead against mine.

  “Dinner smells good.”

  He chuckles. “My boy hungry?” he asks, rubbing my belly.

  “He is, and before you ask, yes, I ate today. I had Chick-fil-A and then I had a soft pretzel, so yeah, I ate.”

  “Good. Go on inside. I’ll grab a few bags and follow you.” Walking to the back of the SUV, I open the hatch and grab a bag. “Lauren!” Tristan scolds me. “Go get off your feet. I’ve got this.”

  “Fine.” I stick my tongue out at him like a child.

  “I have plans for that later.” He wags his eyebrows at me.

  I give him a look that lets him know I’m more than ready for whatever plans he may have, then turn to walk inside. I hear him groan behind me. Glad he got the message.

  “Have a seat on the couch and put your feet up,” he calls after me. “I’m right behind you.”

  I’ll do as he says for two reasons: one, he would complain otherwise, and two, my feet are really killing me. I toss my purse on the floor beside the couch and kick off my shoes, then carefully lower myself onto the couch, putting my feet up as instructed.

  “Are your feet up?” Tristan calls from the kitchen.

  I smile. “Yes, dear.”

  “Good,” he says from behind me. “Here’s your plate. I’ll be right back with a bottle of water. I’m going to get the rest of the bags first and then pull your truck into the garage.”

  “You remembered,” I gasp, accepting the plate of Kentucky Fried Chicken, mashed potatoes, and coleslaw.

  “Of course I did.” He kisses the top of my head from behind the couch and disappears.

  I dig into my dinner like a woman starved. I mentioned this morning that I was craving KFC and that we needed to go there soon. My husband, the wonderful, super-sexy, talented man he is, remembered and brought it home for dinner.

  A few minutes later, he’s sitting next to me, a plate in one hand and two bottles of water in the other.

  “You didn’t really buy all that much,” he comments, shoveling a bite of mashed potatoes into his mouth.

  “It was more than I planned.”

  “Woman, I told you to get what we need, because I have no clue what that is.”

  “I did. I got extra receiving blankets, burp cloths, crib sheets, clothes that we didn’t really need, a couple of blankets, bath towels, and washcloths. I picked up some baby laundry detergent too, and some bottles.”

  “Bottles? I thought you were breastfeeding?”

  “I hope to, but who knows if Zach will latch on. From what I’ve read, it can be complicated.”

  He scoffs. “He’s my boy. He’ll latch on, trust me.”

  I laugh so hard my belly shakes. “Anyway,” I start after composing myself, “I can pump breast milk—I’ll have to, actually—and you can feed him with a bottle, or if we need to leave him, he’ll have food.”

  “We’re not leaving him,” he replies adamantly.

  “Not right away, no. But there will be times in the next year that both of us can’t be around, I’m sure.”

  “Maybe. I would like to get to feed him. You’ve been doing all the work up to this point, and I want to help.”

  Setting my now-empty plate on the end table, I rest my hands on my basketball of a belly. “I’ve loved it, really and truly loved it. I was so scared that day when the doctor told me I was pregnant. I let fear make my decisions for me, and I’m sorry for that.”

  “We’ve been through this. It was only two weeks. It’s water under the bridge.”

  “I know, but I need you to know that you are the best husband. You take such good care of me, and there is no one else on this earth who I would rather go through life with. I love this, everything about being pregnant, because of you. You pamper me, and although it’s not necessary, I feel like I’m connected to you. Not just because of the baby, but like… my soul is somehow connected to yours.”

  “That’s because it is.” He says it so simply, as if it’s just fact and there’s no room for any other reason. “You want more?” he asks, standing and grabbing my plate.

  “No, I’m stuffed. I think I’m going to go lie down. I’ll unpack everything and wash it tomorrow.”

  “Go on up. I’m going to clean up and be right behind you.”

  Upstairs, I wash my face, brush my teeth, and change into one of my maternity nightshirts. I’m just sliding under the covers when he comes into the room.

  “I carried all the bags upstairs and set them in the nursery.”

  “You’re the best husband ever.” I blow him a kiss.

  He smirks, catches it, and walks into the bathroom. A few minutes later, he’s sliding under the covers next to me. “Come here.”