Part 7 (1/2)

I stare into the full length mirror on the back of the closet door, turning sideways so I can see my profile. My stomach isn't huge by any means, but it's slowly getting bigger each day. There's a little pooch there that is slightly bigger than something I could play off as having just eaten a whole pizza by myself. I lift my s.h.i.+rt and rub my hands over the pooch, reminding myself there's a growing baby in there. It's insane, when you think about it. A baby. A real, life, human being will jump out of me in a few months' time. Well...okay, maybe not jump. But I hope it's quick, and I hope it doesn't hurt as badly as it looks like on the movies.

Jace leans against the doorway of the closet, watching me watch myself in the mirror. ”I thought your stomach would get much bigger this far along,” he says, turning his head sideways. ”We're like, five months now, right?”

”Twenty three weeks. They go by weeks for whatever reason,” I explain. ”Too many things happen each week for it to be based on the month.”

He eyes me in this appreciative way and suddenly I'm self-conscious. I turn away from the mirror, covering my belly with my hands.

A moment later, his hands slide over mine as he hugs me from behind. His mouth presses against my neck, trailing kisses down to my collar bone. ”I love you, Bay.” Chills wash over me when his breath tickles my skin. ”I love you, Jace.” My words are a whispered reply and it's all I can do to even speak coherently when he does this to me. His hands slide up my arms and then back down again, circling around my protruding stomach and then wandering back up to my b.r.e.a.s.t.s. He cups them and his lips linger on my neck just a moment longer than usual.

”What is it?” I ask, twisting around to see him better. His face is shadowed from the dim light in the closet, but the naughty way he smiles lets me know exactly what he's thinking.

”Your b.o.o.bs get bigger every day,” he says, wiggling his eyebrows. ”I like it.”

I roll my eyes. ”You're such a pig.”

His hands slide around my waist and tug me toward him. I press against his chest and take special care to make sure my b.o.o.bs get squished in a way that makes the cleavage from my tank top look as s.e.xy as possible. ”I'm your pig,” he says with that goofy grin of his that I love so much.

Fifteen minutes later, my suitcase holds exactly one pair of jeans and two pairs of pajamas. I guess that can be considered progress. Jace lies on his back on the bed, tossing the remote control from one hand to the other.

”So tell me about California.” I toss a blue s.h.i.+rt at him and he catches it but drops the remote.

”What would you like to know?” he asks. He folds my s.h.i.+rt in half and then in half again, setting it inside my suitcase.

”Well, the only thing I know about California is that it's really big and full of celebrities. Also, I'm not packing that s.h.i.+rt,” I say, taking out the blue s.h.i.+rt and tossing it on the bed.

”Why not? You look awesome in it.” Jace refolds the s.h.i.+rt and puts it back in my suitcase. I think the words he meant was that I used to look awesome in it. Now the s.h.i.+mmery blue fabric that's meant to hang loose at the stomach fits tightly around my midsection, stretching the thin fabric and making it look awful. If I tell Jace this, he'll probably ask me to try it on to prove it to him and that is so not happening. So I just leave it in the suitcase. I'll bring more than enough s.h.i.+rts to ensure that I won't be wearing that one on our short trip. ”So, California,” I say again. ”You grew up there and you never even talk about it.”

”There's nothing worth saying,” he says. ”I had an average childhood...went to school and raced dirt bikes. My whole life was dirt bikes. Same as it is here.”

”You were pro though. That had to be different. I mean, you're famous here in Texas so I bet you're really famous in California.”

Jace shrugs. ”I haven't raced on the west side in two years. No one cares about me anymore. And that's exactly how I want things to be.”

”Why's that?”

He looks at me. ”Because I want things to be here with you.”

Warmth spreads through me when I hear his cheesy answer. I don't know if he really means that or if it's just something a guy says to his pregnant fiance to make her feel better, but it makes me all emotionally gooey anyhow. I lay out three dresses on the bed and try to determine which one I should choose to bring along. Jace points to the middle one, a black knit dress with long sleeves and a plunging neckline. ”Good call,” I say, taking the dress and folding it neatly into the suitcase. Black is a slimming color and I desperately need all the slimming illusions I can get.

”Tell me about your parents.”

This makes Jace laugh for some reason. I frown. ”Why won't you talk about them? I need to know about them so I won't go in blindly. I need some topics I can talk about with them.”

”They're going to love you, babe. Their simple people, I promise. Dad works hard and Mom...well she's a really good housewife. She works hard at...watching TV. And they aren't going to talk about themselves, you know.”

”And what are they going to talk about?”

”You.” He says it all matter-of-factly and I lift an eyebrow. ”I'm not sure I like that idea,” I say, feeling trepidation creep over me.

I hold up a few more s.h.i.+rts for Jace and let him choose his favorites. He picks all the s.h.i.+rts with low necklines and I try not to make fun of him for his love of my new big a.s.sets. Jace helps me fold the clothes we picked for our trip and I hang the discarded options back in the closet.

”Baby, I'm nervous,” I admit to him when my suitcase is finally packed enough for three days and nights.

”I know. And I know there's probably nothing I can say to make you feel better.”

I shake my head. ”There isn't. I'm going to be freaking out about this the entire time, no matter what you say.”

He smiles. ”I think you're more nervous about meeting my parents than you are about the wedding.”

I nod. ”Totally.”

I zip up the suitcase and Jace sets mine on the floor next to his. ”I know what will take your mind off it,” he says, stepping closer to me. I sit on the edge of the mattress and take his hands in mine, parting my knees so he can stand closer to me. ”And what exactly is that?” I ask, giving him a coy smile.

He leans forward and kisses me, slowly at first but then deeper, faster. My hands slide up his chest and cling around his neck, holding on tightly when he crawls on the bed, pulling me underneath him.

He rests on his elbows, hovering over me and he smiles when I kiss him, moving all over his face to kiss every single part of it. When my lips find his again, I suck his bottom lip into mine, lightly grazing my teeth over it. He groans and presses into me, lighting me on fire. My back arches to meet him and I grind against him slowly, again and again.

”That's it,” he groans, sliding his hands down my sides. He slips his fingers under my tank top and slides it up and over my head. He lowers himself over me again and kisses my neck, my collarbone, my chest. His voice is raspy, desperate. ”I'm gonna make you forget every single one of your worries.”

Chapter 13.

I'm not sure what I was expecting when we landed in California. Okay, maybe I did know what I was expecting. Celebrities. Fancy rich people. Paparazzi at every turn. You know, typical California stereotypes, because apparently that's all I know about the state.

”Sacramento International Airport?” The disappointment in my voice is impossible to miss. Jace looks at me funny as he winds an arm around my back and guides me through the throngs of people on our way to baggage claim.

”Where did you think we were?” he asks.

”You know. LAX. The airport that's always on TMZ and stuff.”

Jace snorts. ”Sorry to break it to you, but my parents live in Sacramento, not Los Angeles.”

I put on a fake pout, but soon realize that I'm not faking it at all. I really thought we'd be swimming in famous people by now. I mean, this is California.

”What's wrong?” Jace asks. The way he glides through the airport without even stopping to read the signs or look for directions is the sign of someone who flies a lot. Someone worldly and experienced. It makes me feel this mixture of embarra.s.sment over my own sheltered life and admiration for my super s.e.xy fiance.

I stop and watch the ma.s.sive turning baggage claim belt as it turns around slowly, carrying people's luggage until they come to take it. It really is just like in the movies. Jace nudges me with his elbow, letting me know he's still waiting on an answer. ”I don't know...I just thought we'd see some famous people since we're in California.”

He smiles. ”The day isn't over yet.”

The exhilaration of being in a new place comes to a screeching stop when we arrive at the waiting area. ”What are we doing?” I ask, looking around as if there is something here I'm supposed to recognize. ”Aren't we renting a car or something?”

Jace's nose wrinkles. ”You have to be twenty-five years old to rent a car, babe.”

”Oh.” I feel like an idiot now. ”I knew that, I swear I did,” I say with a pathetic little laugh. ”I can't wait until we're old enough to legally do everything there is to do.”

Jace slings an arm around my shoulders and pulls me close to him. ”I can wait.”