Page 37 of Blue Norther
“Colton Ford.” She leaned forward, pinning me with her eyes.
“I told you last night, Vi. I’m not playing around this time. I’m winning you back. I’m taking care of you. Both of you.”
She rolled her eyes, but I didn’t miss the way her lips turned up in the corner before she leaned back in her chair.
“Now,” I continued, “why don’t you tell me why you’re down here.”
“Well, I’m certainly not going to have you waste taxpayer dollars on stationing a deputy outside your house.”
“Ourhouse.”
She bit her plump lower lip and shook her head. There was no way Violet wasn’t aware of the effect she was having on me. Christ, I thought I might lose control of myself the second my eyes landed on her wearing my sweatshirt. Did she remember buying it on our honeymoon? Was that why she wore it down here?
“And I’m the acting sheriff. I get to delegate my force to wherever I feel the need is greatest. Besides chasing down a few teenage hooligans who were out tagging buildings on Ford Avenue last night, we’ve got the resources. And keeping you safe is my number one priority.”
Her brows pulled together. “What about the big investigation you had to come into work for this morning? That’s obviously bigger than what’s going on with me.”
I shook my head. “Let me be very clear here: you are my number one priority. Keeping you and our son safe comes before everything else. But we think there’s a serial arsonist in Clarence County. Unfortunately, that’s all I can say about that right now.”
“Gosh, that’s scary. But I understand.”
I looked down at my watch. “There’s only about an hour until you’re due for your medication. Do you want me to drive you back home?”
She smirked. “Oh no. I told you, I’m not sitting at home with some deputy assigned to me. I’ll be perfectly fine working right from here. And if you need to take a meeting in your office, I can use the break room. Besides, I have a few questions I want to ask Deputy Jones about procedural things for my manuscript.”
“You can just ask me.”
“You’re too busy. I don’t want to bog you down with my silly plot line questions.”
“Vi,” I grumbled. “You need help with a scene? You need help with dialogue? You need to test out a position or two that yourcharacters find themselves in?” I winked. “I’m your guy. I’m theonlyguy. Not Deputy Jones. Okay?”
I watched her round cheeks flush a pretty shade of sunset pink as she bit down on that damn lip again, shifting in her seat. “Got it.”
“Good.”
The silence was driving me bonkers. There was so much I wanted to ask her. So much I was desperate to know. I hadn’t wanted to push last night, but the glances I was not so sneakily stealing right now of the woman I’d loved my whole life, pregnant with my baby, wasn’t enough.
“Are you craving anything?” I blurted out.
Vi’s eyes left her laptop screen and found mine, a smile spreading across her face. “No, that juice and bagel were perfect. Thank you.”
“I don't mean now. I meant…throughout the pregnancy. Did you have cravings at first? Are they the same now? Maybe we should go grocery shopping on the way home, that way I know I have stuff at the house you like to eat.”
Her head tilted, and then laughter filled the office. “I promise, whatever you have at the house is fine. Your son is just hungry. All the time. Pickles? Great. Steak? Great. An egg salad sandwich and pasta with marinara sauce at two in the morning with a bowl of cinnamon pecan swirl ice cream to wash it down? Great.”
“What about morning sickness? Heartburn?”
“I had some nausea in the beginning. Heartburn’s been touch and go since the second trimester.”
I nodded. “Will you tell me more? Please?”
Her eyes softened and she shut her laptop. Violet pushed off the chair, walking around my desk to me. She leaned against the edge of my desk, wrapping her hand around mine and bringing it to her belly.
My face fell. “Is he okay?” I asked. Her belly was bouncing slightly, but at a steady pace. It wasn’t a kick.
“He has the hiccups,” she explained.
The tension released from my shoulders and I brought my other hand up to cup the roundest part of her bump. I pressed my lips to the fabric of my sweatshirt, pulled tightly across her. “I can’t wait—” The baby kicked out, Vi’s hand covering mine as she laughed.
