Page 42 of The Unexpected Lineup (Lost in Translation #2)

DON’T PUSH IT, WESTERHOLM

HAISLEY

Four months later – first week of July

The baby is the size of spaghetti squash (Or winter melon or something else, depending on which site you use. Go figure.)

R esting a hand on my round belly, I feel the steady movements of our son shifting inside me. A particularly strong kick makes me suck in a breath, and I glance over at Rasmus in the driver’s seat.

“He’s been extra active today,” I say, rubbing the spot where he kicked. I keep joking he’ll make a good soccer player, but Rasmus isn’t impressed.

He spares me a quick glance and returns his focus to the road. “Guess he knows we’re getting close.”

“Only a few more weeks.”

“How are you feeling?” He asks .

I exhale, tilting my head against the headrest. “I don’t think I’ll ever feel truly ready. But I’m excited. And a little terrified. The idea of pushing a baby out freaks the fuck out of me, though.”

Rasmus reaches over, his warm hand covering mine on my belly. “I’ve got you.”

The Peacocks lost the conference finals to Boston around a month ago. Since then, Rasmus has been home more. He slowly moved his stuff over and we made the brownstone our place together.

“We should take pictures before he gets here.” He suggests, snapping me out of my thoughts.

I blink, caught off guard by the suggestion. “Like maternity photos?”

“Yeah. Something to remember this time. Not the belly, but two of us together before we become parents.”

A warmth spreads through my chest at his thoughtfulness. “I’d love that.”

“Good because we’re on our way to get them done right now.”

“Rasmus!”

“What?” he asks innocently.

“What if I didn’t have my hair and makeup done? What about my clothes?”

Rasmus chuckles. “You think I didn’t plan today to the finest detail?”

He’s right. He knows me so well by now. “Will there be a selection of dresses to choose from like the last time? ”

He hums in reply and pulls up in front of a building with a sign that reads Keepsake Creations. With a hand still resting on my belly, I scan the storefront. The name sounds more sentimental than a typical photography studio.

“This is where we’re having the photoshoot?”

Rasmus parks and replies. “Not just photos.”

“Not just photos?” I echo.

Rasmus unbuckles our seatbelts and grins, boyish excitement in his expression making me smile in return. “You’ll see.”

Inside, the studio is bathed in natural light, and the walls are filled with sweet maternity portraits and newborn photography.

A smiling woman approaches us. “Hi there, I’m Daisy, the owner of Keepsake Creations.

Rasmus told me today is a surprise, so I won’t tell you too much. But I promise it’ll be a good one.”

I shoot Rasmus a mock glare. “He’s lucky I love him.”

Daisy laughs and leads us to a dressing area where a selection of flowing gowns and dresses are artfully arranged based on colors.

“I don’t know what I want to wear,” I admit, glancing at Rasmus. I expect him to tease me playfully, but there’s only admiration in his gaze. His brown eyes sweep over me, full of something so tender it takes my breath away.

“Take your time to decide, sweetness,” he whispers and settles into the chair nearby.

I run my fingers over the selection, walking back and forth in front of the long rack. From the other end, a light lavender blue sheer dress with delicate floral embroidery catches my eye .

Slipping it on behind the half-wall, I adjust the fabric until it falls perfectly into place. The beautiful details are even more stunning up close, and it’s exactly my style in its own unique way. It fits like a dream, hugging the curve of my belly without feeling too much.

After touching up my loose waves, I place a matching flower crown on my head and smile at my reflection. He’ll love it.

When I step out, Rasmus waits for me in a crisp white button-down with the sleeves rolled up, showing off his tattoos. The look is complete with dark slacks and sleek black shoes. He looks so damn good, but it’s the way he’s looking at me that makes my heart beat faster.

“Wow,” he murmurs, stepping closer to touch me. His hand rests on my belly, his thumb brushing gently over the sheer material. “You look stunning. And I still can’t believe you’re all mine.”

A lump forms in my throat, but I swallow it down. Pressing a hand to his chest, I say, “You’re not so bad yourself.”

Daisy clears her throat, drawing us back to reality. “Okay, lovebirds. Let’s get started.”

You would never know how much Rasmus hates being in pictures if you saw him right now. Kneeling in front of me, he rests his forehead against my belly, smiling widely. The camera clicks, but I barely pay attention to it, lost in the intimacy of the moment.

“Jag ?lskar dig,” he murmurs so low only I can hear. Those are the words he keeps telling both me and our son daily .

I run my fingers through his hair. “I love you, too.”

Daisy snaps a few more shots. “Okay, are you ready for the surprise?”

Nodding, I follow her as she leads us to another section of the studio, where a table is set up with plaster casting materials. I slowly go over the setup, the realization dawning.

“A belly cast?”

Rasmus nods. “I saw a social media post about them and thought you would want to try it.”

Emotion wells in my chest, and my eyes water. “You were right. I love it.”

Daisy steps in. “I’ll guide you through the process, and Rasmus can help. It can be a bit messy, but worth it.”

“Let’s do it.”

With help from Rasmus, I get out of my dress, wearing only my underwear. He drapes a soft white robe around my shoulders before I even have the chance to shiver because of the cool air in the studio. He’s always taking care of me.

Daisy gives us a quick rundown of the process, explaining how she’ll apply petroleum jelly first, so the plaster doesn’t stick to my skin once it dries.

Rasmus listens intently, nodding at every step like he’s about to take an exam on the topic.

I’m filled with love thinking how this man keeps surprising me with his thoughtfulness.

“Can I jelly her up instead?” he asks shyly. “I’d love to be a part of every step.”

“Oh, of course. I normally do it myself, but I don’t see why not,” Daisy exclaims, handing him a big jar .

Rasmus’ calloused fingers are gentle as they smooth the cool material over my skin with deliberate strokes. The touch is more intimate than I expected, and I find myself paying attention to every move he makes. His brows knit together in concentration, and it makes me smile to myself.

“You’re taking this very seriously,” I tease.

He doesn’t look up. “I want to do it right, so it won’t hurt when we remove the cast.”

Once I’m ready for the next part, I’m guided to an exercise ball that keeps me in a sitting position. Daisy dips plaster strips into a bowl of lukewarm water, preparing them.

Handing one to Rasmus, he presses it against my belly. The material feels weird and damp at first, then it begins to harden. Rasmus carefully smooths the surface, ensuring it imitates the curves he loves.

They work together, layer by layer, until the cast takes its final shape. It covers my belly, breasts, and shoulders.

As the final pieces set, Rasmus leans to me, brushing a kiss to my forehead. “One day, we’ll show this to him.”

“He’ll think we’re ridiculous.”

That makes him smirk. “Maybe. He better get used to all things weird having us as his parents.”

Daisy grins as she checks the drying process. “This is coming out beautifully. Let’s wait a little longer, and we can carefully remove it.”

I glance down at the cast, the shape of my pregnant belly perfectly preserved in white material. It’s a physical reminder of this season of our lives. And damn if admiring all that doesn’t make my eyes water once again. These hormones are going to kill me.

“It’s beautiful,” I manage to get out.

“Perfect is the only word I would use to describe it,” Rasmus adds. “I can’t wait to have it ready.”

Daisy steps back, giving us space. “Once we remove this, I’ll let it dry for twenty-four hours. Then work on smoothing and sanding. It’ll be ready for the finishing touches by next week. You can confirm what type of finish you want by then.”

“I think we’ll go with a simple matte,” Rasmus says, and I agree with him.

“Let me send you links to the previous pieces if you see something else you prefer,” Daisy pulls out her phone, sending the reference images to us.

Then she carefully begins loosening the edges of the cast, ensuring it lifts off from my skin without damaging the delicate shape. Rasmus helps her, his hands steady as he supports the bottom part.

When the cast comes free, I exhale slowly, watching as they place it gently on a nearby drying rack.

“Thank you for this,” I tell Rasmus as he returns to my side.

“You don’t have to thank me, Haisley.” His voice is low and serious. “I want to remember everything too.”

“We will, I promise.”

Daisy interrupts us. “That’s it! You’re all done for today. I’ll keep you posted on the progress of the cast, and once it’s ready, you can pick it up. ”

We thank her and Rasmus helps me back to the dressing room. I tilt my head to look at Rasmus. “You’re kind of amazing, you know that?”

His lips twitch. “I’ll remind you of that next time I leave my hockey equipment in the hallway during the off-season.”

“Don’t push it, Westerholm.”

He presses a lingering kiss to my forehead. I rest my hand against his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart beneath my palm. “Joking aside, I don’t know how you do it, but you always know exactly what I need. Even before I do.”

His arms draw me into his warmth. “I listen to everything you do and don’t say.”

Tipping my chin up, he meets me halfway, kissing my lips. It’s tender and unhurried, like he’s savoring every second.

When he pulls back, his brown eyes search mine. “Ready to go home?”

Home. It’s not a place anymore. It’s wherever we are together.

“Yeah, let’s go home.”

He actually bought the brownstone from my parents when he learned I didn’t own it. Because of course he did. That’s how my love is. And it’s also why I love him so dearly. Now and forever.