Free November Foxtrot (Rhythm of the Heart Book 2) by Scarlett Jade Page A

about Layla...She's protective.” He blew out a breath. “I love you.”
    “I love you, Calvin. I'm sorry about all of this. I've been kicking myself. If only, if only, you know?” She ran her hand through her hair, pushing it off her face and grimaced as she came across a tangle.
    “Well, if all the if only stuff didn't happen, we wouldn't be together and having a baby. So I'm happy with how things have happened. Maybe it wasn't how we planned, but it happened. It is what it is and I'm okay with all of it.” He paused and Zoe could hear him smile. “Y'know,” he started then paused. “I miss the way you kiss.”
    She grinned and warmth crawled up her cheeks. “Oh yeah?”
    “Yeah. I could kiss you for hours.”
    She smirked. “Think we could try that out when you get home?”
    He chuckled. “I'd love that. You take care of yourself and our baby ‘til I get there, okay?”
    Her stomach fluttered and she pressed her hand to the bump. “Okay. I love you.”
    “I love you. Let me talk to Grams, I don't have too much longer. Eat, get rest, okay?”
    “Okay, bye, baby.” She stood and moved into the living room, passing the phone off to Grams.
    Her next stop was a shower, where she scrubbed herself until her skin was pink and slightly tender to the touch but she felt clean. The hot water eased away the last of the tension in her shoulders and she relaxed under the spray. As the water cooled, she stepped out and toweled herself dry. Once she was dried off, she wrapped herself in the towel and tiptoed across the hall to her room.
    Before she could get much more on than underwear and a soft old t-shirt, she had dozed off again, curled up on her side.

Chapter Eight
     
     
     
    The days moved by at a snail's pace. Things were still tense between them all as Layla spent more and more time out. Grams tried to make up for the tension by baking up a storm and feeding Zoe. “We have to get that baby big and healthy!” she’d say as she pulled another tray of cookies from the oven.
    Christmas was less than two weeks away, and Calvin would be arriving in less than a week. They decorated the house, venturing out into the woods together to cut down a small fir tree. Pops attached it to the back of his grass cutter and drug it up the path. Once they got it inside, Grams shifted it relentlessly into a tree holder and turned it at least ten times before she was satisfied with the front of the tree.
    “Can you just let the poor tree be still?” Pops quipped. “Lord have mercy.”
    “Hush! It has to look just right! This is the first Christmas Calvin has been home in a long time, and I want it to be perfect. Switch the TV over to one of those Christmas music channels and let's get in the Christmas spirit.”
    They spent hours decorating the tree. Layla begrudgingly came from her room and strung popcorn on a string. Her mouth was twisted into a grimace and she refused to meet anyone's eyes. Her hand strayed frequently to her buzzing phone and only then did she smile or show any emotion. Grams sighed and kept on layering ornaments on each branch.
    Zoe sat quietly on the couch, stringing popcorn on her garland with memories flowing through her. The last real Christmas they'd actually had was the year before Momma had died. Back when Daddy had been...well, her Daddy. Thinking of the way he had callously dropped her, ripped through her and she nibbled at her bottom lip, the aching pressure of her teeth against the flesh giving her time to breathe through the pain of the memories.
    She swallowed down the pain and focused completely on stringing the popcorn. Poke and push. Poke and push. The needle jabbed her finger and she hissed, sticking the injured digit into her mouth. “I have to go out and get some air,” she choked and stood quickly, the bowl of popcorn tumbling off her lap.
    Grams eyed her. “You okay?”
    “Yeah, yeah,” she lied, her hand already on the door knob. “Sorry,” she whispered, bolting out the door