Trish Wylie - Rescued - Mother-To-Be

Moving around the end of the sofa, Colleen eased down onto the well-worn cushions, lifting her aching feet onto a generously stuffed footstool. Then she sighed contentedly as she slid down into a comfortable position, her stomach rising before her eyes.

She blinked a couple of times at the sight, still sometimes finding it hard to equate the sight of the bump with her own body.

Eamonn replaced the rock music with a softer track as he watched Colleen smooth her hand over her stomach from the corner of his eye. She did that a lot during the day, he’d noticed. With only a moment of hesitation he stepped over her feet and sat down beside her, his head tilting to rest on the sofa-back.

And they sat that way for a long time as the record played, static sounding between tracks.

It occurred to Eamonn that it was the longest time he’d ever spent completely silent in a woman’s company. And it wasn’t an entirely unpleasant experience.

Then, with a turn of his head in her direction, he caught sight of her poking her fingers against an irregular bump below her crimson shirt. Her fingers circled it, pushed a little, circled again. When he looked up at her face she had her eyes closed. But she was smiling a small, secretive smile.

His gaze back on her fingers, he asked in a low voice, ‘Is that a foot you’re pushing?’

‘I think so.’ She opened her eyes, tilted her head forwards, so that her chin rested on her chest, and looked down at her hand, smoothing the soft material around the small bump so it was more defined.

‘Doesn’t it hurt when that happens?’

Long lashes fluttered as she raised her eyes to his, surprised by the look of fascination she saw there. ‘Not as much as when the precious pushes its bottom out. That can be very uncomfortable.’

The golden flecks in his hazel eyes glowed warmly across at her. ‘Does he do that often?’

Colleen smiled an amused smile. ‘He? What makes you so sure the baby is a he?’

‘She, then?’ The corners of his mouth twitched, hinting at a smile being held inside. He did that a lot, she’d noticed. As if he always felt the need to keep himself in check, controlled. It made her ache to tease the smile out, to have him soften and relax when he was around her.

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