I shake my head. All of those are normal and while they aren't fun, I wouldn't make a thing about them. I tug my maternity shirt tighter over my stomach and shift a little.
"No," I say.
He chews his lip in thought and then bursts out laughing, a sound that makes me startle in my seat.
"Baby needs a donut?" he asks, lifting his eyebrows as he looks at me.
I nod, smiling and wrinkling my nose. "He does."
"Already giving the baby everything he asks for," he teases. "He's going to be a nightmare as a toddler."
I grin. "I'll risk it."
His smile softens. "I remember a woman who avoided risk at all costs."
My chest warms with affection and I reach to put my hand on his knee. "She took the one important risk, though, and it paid off."
He switches his hands so he can take mine and nods. "I'm going to buy you a donut. A gratitude donut."
I squeeze his hand. "I think we'd better get you one too."
Because I might be uncomfortable, and a little grumpy, and tired, and outgrowing my clothing at an alarming rate, but I've got the life I alwaysdreamed off, and the man who makes everything right. . . and that is worth more than an entire box of donuts.
