Sammi jerks back. “Oh, my God… Do I taste gross?” She huffs into her cupped hand and smells it. “I figured you were the one who left the bowl of Reese’s Pieces for me.”

“I was,” I say, laughing as I peck at her nose. “And you taste like heaven.”

Her puckered lips twist to the side. “You hate peanut butter.”

“My love for you cancels that out.”

“Really?” Her teeth clamp down on her lower lip. “I have gum in my purse.”

“Can’t wait that long for another taste,” I say, before capturing her mouth for another steamy kiss.

My chest swells at the knowledge that she’s been snacking on the candy I arranged to have waiting for her on the plane. Being able to spoil her in little ways—to feel like I’m taking care of her and her pregnancy cravings—brings me a sense of pride.

Living away from my wife has been torture. I don’t want to be my Li’l Bit’s husband in name only, but it’s hard not to feel like that’s the case when we’re apart more than we’re together. I keep reminding myself it won’t be this way for long. Mr. Wayne’s health is improving each and every day. As soon as he’s stabilized, we’ll be free to build the life we’ve always dreamed of, together.

It’s crazy how we went from spending years apart and functioning just fine to me being completely lost without her by my side.

“I mean it,” I murmur between kisses. “I will sit in the damn waiting room at that hospital next time your dad has a weekend treatment before going through this agony again.”

Her smile stretches against my lips. “You would do that, wouldn’t you?”

I give her another hard kiss before setting her to her feet, appraising my girl while Frank retrieves her luggage from the plane. “Absolutely.”

Her cheeks flush beneath my perusal. I’ve never had much of a poker face, and it’s clear by her reaction she has a pretty good idea what’s going through my mind.

“What?” She giggles.

“Just like looking at you.” I grip the front of her black cardigan and tug her close enough to slip my hand inside discreetly to feel her bump. “He’s growing.”

Li’l Bit scoffs. “It’s not surprising. She’s got one hell of a sweet tooth.”

I cock my brow before ushering her toward the waiting car with a hand at the small of her back.

“T minus thirty minutes.” I open her door, helping her inside before ducking in behind her. “Then you’ll have to stop calling our son a she.”

“We’ll see…”

“Right this way,” Dr. Ruby says, ushering us in through the back entrance of her office building, quickly locking the door behind us.