body. An involuntary shudder tears through my body, but not from the cold. At the closeness to this man. I can smell his soap. I can feel his leg brush against mine.
Travis hands me a gray sweatshirt. “I thought you might be chilly so I grabbed this from my truck.”
As I slip the sweatshirt over my head, my senses are assaulted by the scent of Travis. I feel him everywhere like a warm embrace wrapping securely around me.
“Better?” he asks with a smile.
“Better. Thank you,” I say as I return his smile. His family seems to fade away as we stare at each other. His crystal blue eyes are boring straight into me; straight into my soul. I fight the urge to snuggle closer to him. I want him to wrap his arms around me and hold me tightly.
As if sensing my needs, Travis grabs a hold of me and pulls me back into his embrace. His arm wraps protectively around my shoulder, encompassing me in his warmth and protection. I feel almost lightheaded and dizzy from the contact. He’s so close, touching me from shoulder to ankle.
Travis and I sit there, visiting with his family - well, I mostly people watch; answering questions when they are asked. But, mostly, I keep to myself and just observe this large, boisterous family. A family that I will be connected to for the rest of my life. Whatever comes of Travis and me, we will always be connected by the child I am carrying inside of me.
Right on cue, my stomach makes a painful drop as the nausea takes hold of my body. I can feel myself starting to sweat through the layers of suffocating and suddenly binding clothes I’m wearing. I turn to Travis as I start to stand up. He must read my face instantly because he takes my hand inside of his much larger, calloused one, and leads me straight into the house.
As Travis pulls me along, I’m trying to push all thought from my mind as I concentrate on making it to the bathroom. He pushes open the door of the half-bath and drags me inside. I barely have time to drop to my knees as my body dumps the contents of my stomach into the toilet. I hate this. I absolutely loathe throwing up. I could never have been one of those girls who makes themselves vomit. But ever since I found out I was pregnant, I’ve done nothing but.
Travis grabs ahold of my long, brown ponytail and pulls it back from hanging down in my face, out of the line of fire. I feel his large, strong hand rub light circles on my back. The bathroom is pretty small and with me kneeling on the floor in front of the toilet, there really isn’t much room for a six foot, one inch man who’s practically hovering over the top of me. On top of everything, this is just humiliating.
“You don’t have to stay in here. I’ll be done in a minute,” I tell him as I dry heave into the toilet.
“I’m not going anywhere. We’re in this together, remember?” Travis says as he squats next to me and continues to rub my back.
“God, I hate this,” I moan when the dry heaves finally subside and I collapse on the floor in a boneless heap. The cool tile squares feel like heaven against my flushed face.
Travis jumps up and grabs a washcloth from the cabinet under the sink. Once it’s wet with cool water, he sits on the floor next to me - which is a very tight fit, I might add - and lays the cool cloth over my forehead. Within a couple of minutes, the sweating has stopped and my breathing has returned to somewhat normal.
“Better?” Travis asks with concern lacing his voice.
“Yes. I could use a toothbrush, though. Could you grab my purse?”
“Sure,” Travis says has he jumps up and steps out of the small bathroom.
A few minutes later, he returns with my purse. I dig until I find the little bag containing a travel toothbrush and tiny tube of toothpaste. I bought this emergency kit shortly after discovering I was pregnant for obvious reasons.
After a quick brush of my teeth and another splash of cold water on my face, I think I’m finally ready to face the Stevens family
Travis hands me a gray sweatshirt. “I thought you might be chilly so I grabbed this from my truck.”
As I slip the sweatshirt over my head, my senses are assaulted by the scent of Travis. I feel him everywhere like a warm embrace wrapping securely around me.
“Better?” he asks with a smile.
“Better. Thank you,” I say as I return his smile. His family seems to fade away as we stare at each other. His crystal blue eyes are boring straight into me; straight into my soul. I fight the urge to snuggle closer to him. I want him to wrap his arms around me and hold me tightly.
As if sensing my needs, Travis grabs a hold of me and pulls me back into his embrace. His arm wraps protectively around my shoulder, encompassing me in his warmth and protection. I feel almost lightheaded and dizzy from the contact. He’s so close, touching me from shoulder to ankle.
Travis and I sit there, visiting with his family - well, I mostly people watch; answering questions when they are asked. But, mostly, I keep to myself and just observe this large, boisterous family. A family that I will be connected to for the rest of my life. Whatever comes of Travis and me, we will always be connected by the child I am carrying inside of me.
Right on cue, my stomach makes a painful drop as the nausea takes hold of my body. I can feel myself starting to sweat through the layers of suffocating and suddenly binding clothes I’m wearing. I turn to Travis as I start to stand up. He must read my face instantly because he takes my hand inside of his much larger, calloused one, and leads me straight into the house.
As Travis pulls me along, I’m trying to push all thought from my mind as I concentrate on making it to the bathroom. He pushes open the door of the half-bath and drags me inside. I barely have time to drop to my knees as my body dumps the contents of my stomach into the toilet. I hate this. I absolutely loathe throwing up. I could never have been one of those girls who makes themselves vomit. But ever since I found out I was pregnant, I’ve done nothing but.
Travis grabs ahold of my long, brown ponytail and pulls it back from hanging down in my face, out of the line of fire. I feel his large, strong hand rub light circles on my back. The bathroom is pretty small and with me kneeling on the floor in front of the toilet, there really isn’t much room for a six foot, one inch man who’s practically hovering over the top of me. On top of everything, this is just humiliating.
“You don’t have to stay in here. I’ll be done in a minute,” I tell him as I dry heave into the toilet.
“I’m not going anywhere. We’re in this together, remember?” Travis says as he squats next to me and continues to rub my back.
“God, I hate this,” I moan when the dry heaves finally subside and I collapse on the floor in a boneless heap. The cool tile squares feel like heaven against my flushed face.
Travis jumps up and grabs a washcloth from the cabinet under the sink. Once it’s wet with cool water, he sits on the floor next to me - which is a very tight fit, I might add - and lays the cool cloth over my forehead. Within a couple of minutes, the sweating has stopped and my breathing has returned to somewhat normal.
“Better?” Travis asks with concern lacing his voice.
“Yes. I could use a toothbrush, though. Could you grab my purse?”
“Sure,” Travis says has he jumps up and steps out of the small bathroom.
A few minutes later, he returns with my purse. I dig until I find the little bag containing a travel toothbrush and tiny tube of toothpaste. I bought this emergency kit shortly after discovering I was pregnant for obvious reasons.
After a quick brush of my teeth and another splash of cold water on my face, I think I’m finally ready to face the Stevens family
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