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 for real

anything but happy,

– already with his jokes. God, I love

him and already looking up the stairs, clearly intent on going right up and not even noticing me sitting

fast in his tracks that he almost

doing in here?” he asks

him up and down. “I’m sorry,” I say, my voice deep with sarcasm. “Am I… not allowed to sit in

hanging his head for a second and running a hand through his hair before looking up at me again. ” I’m sorry,” he says, and I can tell that he means

of a day?”

he sighs,

him and folding my

Cora,” he says, glancing up the stairs. “Can we just go

a little still. ” You’re not

head again, almost begging for a moment. “I just want to go to bed. With

Roger’s tough shell, he revealed

me this side…he must really

in a second. “Sure,”

to me once, tugging on my hand and pulling me up the

much as when we get up to the bedroom, instead 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

warmth and a little light to see by, but otherwise shut off all the lights

mate as he comes out of the bathroom a few minutes later, his face serious and 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 he drops his towel and reaches for the folded pajama pants on the edge of the

efforts to keep it to myself, Roger raises his head

am I supposed to do when he shows up all naked in bedroom, the fire highlighting the carved lines of

a full smile by the time he gets the pajama pants on and moves to his side of the bed, pulling 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 he wraps his arms around me and pulls me close,

his still-damp hair and cooing

based on a great deal of laughter

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, there’s not too much

me everything, baby,” I murmur, hoping

pleased surprise,