Page 53 of The Curveball
“Is this okay?” he asks.
I nod.
His head drops back down as his hands caress my stomach, and his lips graze a kiss across the rounded bulge.
“Hi baby, it’s Daddy. I love you,” he says, and I melt.
My fingers rake through his hair as he kisses my belly again. Then he moves, stretching out alongside me, his hand resting possessively on my stomach.
“Thank you,” he says quietly. “I don't know if I've said that enough. But thank you for having our child, for coming to find me, for letting me be in their life and yours. I promise you, I don't take it for granted.”
I shift forward slightly, closing the distance between us, and press a soft kiss to his lips. “Thank you for wanting this. Us.”
We kiss for another moment, soft and languorous. As if we have all the time in the world.
Then he moves back, tucking my hair behind my ears. “I’m not…” he starts, then stops. He sucks in a breath, and starts again, “I’m not asking for anything. I know we should probably take this slow. But can I…can I stay here tonight? Can I hold you? Both of you?”
Tears threaten the backs of my eyes as I bite my lip and nod.
“I’d like that a lot.”
When I wake up the next morning, Brady is gone. But the pillow where his head lay next to mine still has an indent, and the faintest scent of him remains. I sit up, blinking tiredly, and look at my phone to see the time.
My jaw drops. “It's nine thirty?”
I don't think I've slept in this late in ages. Now it makes sense that Brady's not here, I think he said something about needing to be at the stadium early today.
I drag myself out of bed and into the bathroom to brush my teeth and wash my face. Last night was unexpected, to say the least. I don't fully understand what gave me the courage to kiss him at dinner, but I'm so incredibly glad that I did.
As I drift into the kitchen, I spy a folded piece of paper propped up against an empty coffee cup with my name scrawled on it.
Sage,
Hope I didn’t wake you when I left. It was hard to get up and leave your side, but knowing I would be coming home to you, and be able to kiss you hello, made it easier.
I want to take you out tonight. Our first date.
See you soon, little mama.
Brady
I reread the note at least three times, my smile growing wider every time. A date with Brady? Like a real, romantic date? Yes. Please.
Of course, my anticipation for whatever he has planned makes the day go by interminably slow. I spend over an hour on the phone with Fiona, filling her in on the change in my relationship status. Together we debate outfit choices before deciding it’s time for me to hit up some stores and find something more flattering for my changing body.
That conversation leads to an impromptu shopping trip in Westport, the town where the closest maternity clothing store is located.
Eventually, I’m back at the apartment with several bags of clothing full of pants with elastic waistbands and tops with flowing silhouettes.
Brady texts me sometime in the afternoon.
BRADY: Hey hurricane. Our baby is the size of a banana this week. Cool huh? I’ll be home around 5 to pick you up. See you then.
SAGE: Can’t wait. Where are we going?
BRADY: It’s a surprise.
By the time he gets home, I’ve been dressed and waiting impatiently for him for about ten minutes. To distract from my nerves, I’ve chugged several glasses of water, which, of course, made me have to pee twice. Both times I panicked that he’d arrive while I was in the bathroom.
