Promise Me Forever

CHAPTER 8

Cara

I had no idea what to wear. I stood in my closet surrounded by a pile of discarded clothes bună heels. That I could no longer wear because pregnancy had robbed me of my balance. And my ankles.

None of my regular date attire fit. But I didn't want to wear my usual tunic and leggings. I wanted something that made me feel a little more like the old Cara. Or at least made me feel cute, not like I'd given up on fashion in favor of stretchy fabrics and slip-on flats.

Finally, I settled on a wrap dress that had enough room to accommodate my baby belly. It did make the hem ride higher than normal, but I had great legs, so why not? And it made my boobs look fabulous, so I couldn't argue with that.

If I got to keep any part of my pregnant body, I hoped it was my boobs. They'd never looked this good.

When I was satisfied with my outfit, I went downstairs.

Aidan was waiting for me on the sofa, all dressed up. He looked up from his phone and his eyes widened. "Holy shit."

"It's the best I could do. Nothing fits."

"Fuck, Cara. You look amazing."

The awe in his voice made me feel fidgety. "Thank you."

His eyes swept up and down, taking me in. I had to admit I liked the way he looked at me, and that my changing body didn't bother him.

Granted, any guy would appreciate the way my boobs looked in this dress.

Finally, he stopped staring at me and we left. I'd been right about the meatloaf. It was definitely what the baby wanted tonight.

"So what do you think of Aurora for a girl?" he asked.

"Is that a serious suggestion? Because it's pretty."

"Yes, it's a serious suggestion."

"I don't know if it feels like the one, but I like it."

"Goes well with Powell." He winked.

That gave me an idea. "How about we make this more interesting? What if we don't really decide on a name until we see her face?"

"Why are you so sure it's a girl? Wanna have a partner against me?"

"I'm pretty sure you want to be the protective ass father."
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"Thank you for coming here with me." 

I said as Ella  stood in front of a rack of baby clothes, rifling through the tiny onesies and dresses. 

"Are you getting excited?" She asked.

"Kind of excited and kind of scared. It's all getting so real now. I can't sleep at night and I'm constantly in the bathroom. I can already feel kicks and turnings. I figure having a newborn baby can't be much worse than hitting this stage."

"How about the birth?" Ella leaned forward. 

"Well we actually talked about writting a plan once we hit the last three or tw months, just in case." I  smiled. "But older and wiser women have told me nothing ever happens as planned."

"Florence?"

I grinned. "Yup." His mom called almost everyday, just checking with us. My mom offered to come and help me cook now that I reached the beginning of month five.
____________________________________________

Aidan

I  was frowning when I opened the front door and walked inside. There was no sign of Cara.

"Hello?"

There was no reply. I took a deep breath in, then pushed the bedroom door open.

 "Cara?" I called louder this time.

"Aidan?

She was sitting on the bed in the corner, a pair of headphones wrapped around her swollen stomach. She was blinking, her cheeks pink with sleep. "Hey." she said, smiling. "Is it that time already?"

I smiled back at her, slowly kissing her forehead. "It's almost six." I glanced at her belly again. "What are you doing with those headphones?"

Cara laughed self-consciously. "I've been playing Mozart to the baby. I read somewhere that she can hear sounds now, and I figure it's never too early to shape her musical tastes."

"I took you for more of a rock chick."

"I am, but I don't want to burst those tiny eardrums. I like classical, too, and I'm hoping this kid is going to become a genius like her daddy."

A shot of warmth rushed through me. I scooted down beside her, gently pulling the earphones from her bump. "I'm hoping she'll turn out more like you."

"You're admitting she's a girl then?" she looked at me through her thick lashes. Her skin still creased with sleep.

"I do." She moved her hands down to her bump, caressing it softly. 

I glanced over at her, and our gazes caught. 'I don't mind you feeling the bump. Maybe she'll like it."

She pulled her top up to reveal the pale swell of her stomach. I reached out a hand and placed it gently on the side of her stomach.

God, she was warm. Her skin tender and smooth. I moved my fingers, tracing along her flesh, and I heard her breath catch.

"I'm getting stretch marks." she whispered. "They're ugly."

"No they're not. They're beautiful."

"You should say something to her. Let's get her used to your voice."

Then Cara's hand was on my head, her fingers weaving into my hair, and it felt amazing. How I missed this, this feeling of skin on skin. 

"Hey, sweetie."I breathed out, my lips an inch from her skin. "Hello, little baby, this is daddy."

Cara's stomach moved as she took in a lungful of air.

"You stay safe in there." I whispered. "Your mommy's taking good care of you right now. And when you're ready to come out, I'll be here to look after you, too."

I slid my hand up, my fingers caressing her skin, and Cara let out a sigh. I let out another breath, the warm air caressing her, and Cara sighed again. This time her stomach moved, until my lips were less than a half an inch from her stomach.

I closed the gap.

I slid his lips along her stomach, closing my eyes to breathe her in. Her back arched as I reached the peak of her, then kissed the dip below her breasts.

"Aidan," she whispered, low and deep. When I looked at her, her eyes were on fire. Her lips were parted, her breath coming in short pants.

"For god's sake, kiss me." She grabbed my free hand and placed my palm against her lips.

Her stomach growled, as though it disagreed with every word. She laughed and shook her head. "Sorry about that. I skipped dinner in favor of a nap."

"Let me make you something."

She nodded and went into the kitchen. 

I pulled the refrigerator door open, making the light flicker on. "I'll make us omelets."

"I'll grab the pan." she said, scooting down and pulling it out of the cupboard. I took it from her and placed it on the stove top.

"Take a seat." 

"You sure I can't help?"

"I'm pretty confident I can handle an omelet, Cara."

A minute later, we were both silent as I broke the eggs into a large glass bowl and whipped them with a fork until they were creamy. I poured a spoonful of oil into the pan, then poured the eggs in, swishing them around until they were clinging to the bottom of the pan.