Page 52 of Blue Norther
Violet
My eyes drifted to the corner of the laptop. Three hours. I’d been writing like a woman who was running out of time. And all that time had passed by in what felt like five minutes. I’d grabbed a snack and run—okay, waddled, excruciatingly slow—to the bathroom, but other than that, I was glued to my computer screen.
My entire body flinched at the sound of my phone ringing.
“I promise I’m working on my writing,” I answered, smiling as Ryan’s laughter filled the line.
“That’s my girl. How are things looking?”
“Uh…” I bit down on my lip. “I think I’m in a good spot.”
“And the deadline?”
“We might just make it…”
“Cal.”
“I know. I know. I promise I’m doing my best to not have this be a disaster for us all.”
“It won’t be a disaster. And even if it is, that’s what you pay me to handle. We’ll get to the other side, together.”
“Thank you,” I sniffed, trying to hide the wave of emotion that crashed over me.
“Please tell me you aren’t crying.”
“No, of course I’m not. It’s just the hormones. Pregnancy is wild.”
“I’m sure it is.” His words were clipped, harsh almost. But that was Ryan. Supportive and yet, still direct. “And being in Texas? Has it been all you were hoping for?”
I smiled, my hand rubbing circles over my belly where the baby was pressing his butt out. “Yeah. It’s been better than I hoped it would be. I mean, the bar was set low because I really had no hopes other than getting away from…”
“Right. Have you heard from him again?”
“Yes.”
“Shit, Callie, I’m sorry. You’re being safe, right?”
“As safe as I can be.”
“Good. Look, I have that trip to Canada coming up, but if you need me to cancel?—”
“Ryan, no! No. I promise. I’m fine. Go be with your family. You’ve earned that time off.”
“But you’ll still keep me in the loop, right?”
“Always.”
“Good. Alright, I’ve got to run. And you’ve got words to write.”
It was my turn to laugh. “Yes, sir.”
We exchanged our goodbyes and I sighed, leaning against the back of the chair to help stretch out my lungs. My eyes drifted back to my manuscript before my fingers started moving across the keyboard.
Finally, my writer’s block seemed to have lifted, and the words were flowing out of me. I was feeling inspired again. Hopeful again. I might be eons behind and nowhere near close to done, but it was all a step in the right direction.
An hour more of working, and I’d managed to writethe steamiest sceneof my career. It certainly had nothing to do with the fact that I was hugely pregnant, hadn’t had any spicy actionin years, and was now living inveryclose proximity to the one and only man I’d ever loved, the only man I’d ever been with. Oh, and that I’d seen him with that towel slung low across his hips this morning, still dewy with droplets of water from the shower before he went into work. His chest was more defined than I remembered.
Mercy! I was glad I opted to stay home today. It meant some poor deputy was parked out front again, but I couldn’t focus on that. I needed to get words written. And I needed to figure out what the hell I was going to do about my body feeling so damn… frisky!
