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Likecrazycranky. The fact she still has her sense of humor is miraculous at this point.

“He’ll come when he’s ready.”

“I hate it when you say that. What if heneverwants to come?”

“He will. Soon.” I slowly slide out of her, helping her roll to her left side, and trail my lips down the side of her body, kissing everywhere I can reach down to the curve of her hips before I move off the bed. “Stay here. I’ll clean you up.”

She hums a satisfied sound and I move to the bathroom. After a quick cleanup of myself, I come back with a warm washcloth and clean Cara up before I climb into the bed behind her.

Her hand is on her stomach, and as she turns to me to kiss me, her lips are twisted in a slight grimace.

“You okay?”

“Yeah,” she says. But her features tighten. “That must have just brought on another contraction. My stomach is as hard as a ball.”

I feel it for myself, her entire stomach tight and hard. Another Braxton-Hicks. They’re driving us both insane. Every time she gets one I think it’s time to go and grab the bag. To which Cara slaps my hand and tells me to chill out.

“We have the Halloween party tonight with Dan and Jenna. Do you want to skip it?”

“No. I’ll be more miserable sitting around here doing nothing.”

Her call. These days she’s pretty miserable out and about just as much as she is at home. Luca got so tired of her snapping at customers he told her last week to start her maternity leave early and not return until she’s normal again.

It took everything I had not to laugh in her face when she demanded, “Can you believe he said that to me?”

“Whatever you want, honey.”

I kiss her cheek again and move to roll away from her but she grabs my arm and holds on tight. “Braxton?”

“Yeah?”

“You know I love you, right? Even when I’m losing my mind and being bitchy, you know I love you, don’t you?”

Her eyes hold a hint of fear, something I haven’t seen in her. Cara’s one of the strongest women I’ve ever met. It undoes me as much as it helps me.

It’s nice to know I’m not the only one losing my mind these days.

“Of course I do. And I love you just as much.”

“Good. I should shower.”

“Want help?” I’ve used the excuse it’s hard for her to bend over more than once to help her in the shower. Which usually leads to more pleasurable activities than washing her back.

She smiles at me, that soft, serene look in her eyes appearing that’s been there pretty much since we found out we’re having a boy. It was as if the reassurance on the ultrasound that the baby isn’t only real but is completely healthy transformed her into a woman completely at peace with her life.

“Yeah.”

I get her up, biting my lip as she groans as she stands, her hand clasped in mine and one hand holding up her belly, and then we head to the shower, where we go for a second round of our midwife’s helpful instructions.

I’m in the closet afterward, throwing on a thermal long-sleeved shirt, my hair still wet from the shower, when Cara walks in behind me.

“Braxton?”

Her tone catches me off guard and I turn to look at her, still naked from the shower, but her makeup is done and her hair is dried, hanging down and covering her breasts.

Her hands on her stomach, her face scrunched.

“What is it?” I’m already moving toward her.