Gavin blinked. “You get off on this, don’t you?”
Emily batted her lashes. “In so… many…many ways. Now answer it.” She laughed and carefully maneuvered from the bed, more than enjoying the swat on her ass he gave her.
As she watched him take the call, Emily felt her stomach tighten. Though not in pain, she definitely wasn’t comfortable as a Braxton Hicks contraction balled her belly. With her breath somewhat depleted, she sank into an overstuffed chair and tried to relax. Playing it safe, considering she was within three weeks of her due date, she glanced at her watch and started timing it. As her stomach loosened from the mild assault, the baby made his presence known. Hammering his foot in what Emily believed was anger at his own discomfort, he hit his mark somewhere below her right ribcage.
“I hear ya, buddy,” she mumbled, rubbing the area he’d attacked. “Soon.” Emily watched concern edge Gavin’s eyes when his gaze landed on her.
Promptly ending his call, he moved across the room and fell to his knees in front of her. “What’s wrong?” he asked, placing his hand over hers. “Are you okay?”
She nodded and pulled in a deep breath. “Fake contraction.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yeah. I’m starting to get used to them.” She swallowed and, with Gavin’s help, stood. Smiling, she draped her arms around his neck. “So, can you tell what’s new on me?”
Startled by her nonchalance, Gavin shook his head, smoothing his hands down her waist. “Emily, I think you should lay down.”
“Why?” she asked, her brows furrowed.
“You’re getting contractions.”
“Silly man, I had a Braxton Hicks.” She waved dismissively and walked across the room. She plucked her water from the nightstand, took a sip, and nearly finished the whole bottle. “I’m fine.”
Gavin shoved a nervous hand through his hair. Yeah, he was pretty damn sure his girl was losing it. “How do you know you’re fine?”
“Well, let’s see. It’s my body, and I’ve come to know it quite well over the last twenty-five years.” She padded back over to him, a smile on her face as she once again slid her arms around his neck. “Want to know two things I bet you didn’t know?”
Gavin released a sigh, attempting to go with the flow. “Sure.”
Emily wiggled her brows. “One: you’re very, very shmexy when you’re worried.”
Gavin chuckled. “Am I?”
“Mmm hmm.”
“I’ve said it before”—Gavin smirked, loving her playfulness—”and I’ll say it ‘til the day they bury me. You’re pretty shmexy yourself.”
“Why thank you, sir.” She pushed up on her tiptoes and kissed him. “Two: While losing yourself in all my dirty, kinky, Braxton Hicks-filled shmexyness, you failed to notice I’m wearing the sweatshirt you lent me one year ago tonight.”
Gavin flicked his eyes down to the gray Zenga Sport sweatshirt he’d sworn disappeared into thin air. “No shit. Look at that.” Grinning, he flipped the hood over Emily’s head. “It definitely fits you better this year.”
Emily’s mouth dropped open, and Gavin laughed. Giggling, she swatted his arm. “You take that back right now.”
“You know I’m kidding.” Gavin kissed her pouting lips. “Do I need to make it up to you?”
“As a matter of fact, you do.”
“Name it, sweets.”
“Bottle caps.”
Gavin popped a brow. “Bottle caps?”
Emily nodded. “Yep. A friendly game of toss the bottle caps.”
“Is this some kind of wager for your forgiveness?” Gavin’s eyes sparkled mischievously. “And when you lose, what happens then? Am I cast into one of the guest bedrooms for the night?”
Emily scoffed, heading for the French doors. “Why would you assume I’m going to lose, wiseass? And yes, you sleep solo if you don’t let me win.”
Chuckling, Gavin watched her stick out her tongue in true Emily fashion as she disappeared onto the balcony. In true Gavin fashion, he was about to test his girl’s memory. Grabbing a remote and flicking on the surround sound, he hit repeat on one particular song. He tossed on a long-sleeved T-shirt and started for the doors. With the freezer bag filled with caps in hand, Gavin breathed in the salty smell of the ocean. Emily was leaning against the railing when he emerged into the cool night air. She smiled, sinking his heart the same way she’d sunk it a year ago. Hell, if there ever came a time she couldn’t steal his breath, he’d know the world around him had gone crazy.
Dropping the bag of memories onto an Adirondack chair, he reached for her hand and gently pulled her to his body. “May I have this dance before we play our little game?”
“Looks like you’ve already decided that for me,” she teased, resting her head against his chest as they swayed.
Gavin kissed the top of her hair. “Would you’ve been able to say no?”
“Never,” she whispered.
“That’s what I figured.”
“You push your luck every chance you get, don’t you?”
He chuckled lightly. “Always.” With one hand splayed along the small of her back, he took the other, intertwined with her fingers, and pinned it to his chest. Staring at her, he smiled. “Do you know what song this is?”
“I do,” she breathed, her gaze transfixed on his lips. Her muscles warmed as the memory of the first night they’d made love spilled through her. “Louis Armstrong’s La Vie en Rose. I also remember the first time we danced to it.”