Accidental Surrogate

Cora

I blow lightly on my cup of tea, doing my best to cool it and concentrate on the book that’s open in my lap. But even as I try, my eyes continually drift to the picture window in front of me that overlooks the front of our property, including the driveway where Roger’s going to pull in any minute now.

At least, that’s what I’ve been telling myself for the past two hours.

I sigh, frustrated. I sent him a text a while ago asking him to let me know when he’d be home not that I really need to know, I just…wanted to know.

But Roger is notoriously bad at keeping an eye on his phone, and I know that he and Sinclair have had a particularly stressful day today. So, I’do my best to just…exercise my patience.

But I sigh because, even though patience is usually one of my virtues…

Today? I’m finding it a little hard.

Happy!

The baby’s little tap comes skipping down the bond out of nowhere, and I burst into a grin, looking down at myself.

“Oh, so are you liking the ginger tea, little guy?” I ask, laughing a little as I stroke a hand over my belly.

He doesn’t respond because…well, because I asked him out loud, and he can’t hear me, but I smile nonetheless, taking another sip.

Happy? I ask, sending the word and the feeling down the bond to him.

His answer comes back in an instant. Happy happy!

I laugh again, desperately pleased at this, and wondering what’s going to come next with him. Because he’s getting bigger, I can almost feel him growing by the day, and soon he’s going to start feeling all sorts of new things. But will he even have words for them? Will we feel them before he does, and be able to pass the same emotions back and forth, asking questions like we do with happy? Will it be –

But even as I ponder it, excited, headlights flash across the drive and my face bursts into a grin.

“Daddy’s home, little baby,” I murmur, taking another sip of my tea before putting it down on the coffee table as I watch Roger park the car, and step out, and storm for our front door.

“Ut-oh,” I sigh, watching his every step and continuing to stroke my stomach. “Daddy’s in a mood, baby…”

baby pulses, making me laugh

is anything but happy, isn’t

jokes. God, I love

scowling as he storms through it, pushing it shut behind him and already looking up the stairs, clearly intent on going right up

and Roger whips towards me, stopping so fast in his

are you doing in

surprise, looking him up and down. “I’m sorry,” I say, my voice deep with sarcasm. “Am I…

running a hand through his hair before looking up at me again. ” I’m sorry,” he says, and I can tell that he means it even though his voice is clipped. “You just surprised

a

he sighs,

I say, reaching for him and folding my legs to make space on

he says, glancing up the stairs. “Can we

ask, going a little still. ” You’re not

hanging his head again, almost begging for a moment. “I just want to go

shell, he revealed himself to be funny, and sweet, and full of

he’s showing me this side…he must really

moving to his side in a second. “Sure,” I say, nodding to him and taking his hand.

my hand and pulling me

moving smoothly through our evening routine. Roger gives a quick kiss before heading to the bathroom to take a short shower, washing off the day. I’m silent as I change into my nightgown, laying out a pair of pajama pants on the bed for

a little light to see by, but otherwise shut

his eyes far-off, thinking through something that I know he’ll tell me about in a few minutes when he’s ready. I can’t help admiring him a little when

myself, Roger raises his head a little and smirks at me. But I just

all naked in bedroom, the

back the covers and slipping beneath them. I scootch across the mattress, pressing myself to his side, and Roger lets out a wicked little growl as

fingers through his still-damp hair and cooing softly to him

relationship is based on a great deal of laughter and teasing. But tonight? Tonight, I can tell he needs something

skin of his back in a way that I know he likes. And Roger, to my content, starts almost to purr with the pleasure of it. Interestingly, for how much we usually want to tear into each other,

I murmur,

to my pleased surprise, comes