All that remained was the big dresser, the bed, and tables. “Yeah, so? We talked about this being the baby’s room,” she whispered, careful not to let her voice carry to Louise who was in their room cleaning.
“This is not okay,” he said under his breath. “Louise, Mary?” he hollered.
“What are you doing?”
Louise made it to the room at a run. Her eyes wide in alarm. “Is everything okay?”
“Go get Neil,” Blake demanded.
Samantha grasped onto Blake’s arm, her confusion muffled with alarm. No matter how much she nagged him to tell her what was wrong, he waited until Louise, Mary, and Neil stood before the two of them before he opened his mouth.
When he did, Samantha was shocked silent.
“Samantha’s pregnant.”
Her jaw dropped. They weren’t going to say a thing to anyone until her next appointment with the doctor in a week. Within seconds, she understood his motivations.
“I knew it,” Louise said, glancing at Mary.
Mary shrugged her shoulders and offered a motherly smile. “Of course she is.”
“You knew?” Samantha asked.
“Dear, we live here. Of course we knew.”
Blake’s face shifted to Neil.
“Don’t look at me. I was in the dark.”
“If you ladies knew Samantha was pregnant then why would you allow her to move all this furniture up here?”
Neil’s gaze darted around the room.
“She didn’t want our help.”
“I didn’t need their help,” Samantha defended herself and them. “What’s the big deal?”
Neil stepped forward. “Pregnant women shouldn’t life heavy stuff.”
Blake smiled and patted Neil’s back. “Someone who understands.”
“Is that what this is about? You don’t think I’m capable of clearing out this room?” Oh, now she was just getting pissed. Of all the sexist things…
“From now on I don’t want Samantha lifting anything other than a dinner plate or shopping bag… and if the shopping bag is heavy not even that.” Blake wasn’t talking to her, but over her to the staff.
“Now you wait just a minute—”
Mary backed up and motioned to Louise “I think we need to leave.”
“Blake is right,” Neil voiced his opinion. “Let me help with this stuff. No need for you to hurt yourself or the baby.”
Samantha shot out an arm when Neil moved around them to pick up the table she’d been struggling with. “Hold on. I’m pregnant, not an invalid. The doctor didn’t say anything about restrictions.”
“Neil,” Mary barked. “I think we should leave Samantha and Blake to work this out without our help.”
The three of them quietly slipped away, leaving Samantha holding her lips with tightly controlled anger and Blake squaring his jaw with determination.
“I thought we agreed to hold off telling anyone about the baby.”
He glanced around the room. “I think we missed the mark on that one. Damn, Samantha, you could have gotten hurt up here moving this stuff around.”
“It’s just stuff.”
“Heavy stuff that you shouldn’t be lifting.”
“Oh, please—”
Blake lifted his hand, silencing her protest. “What if you lifted this table,” Blake kicked the wood at his feet. “And started to have stomach pains?”
A shiver of worry caught her unaware. “That probably wouldn’t happen.”
“But what if it did?”
Samantha shifted her eyes around the room, noticed the size of the queen bed for the first time, the bulky weight of the dresser she was determined to scoot out of the room before Blake had interrupted her.
Maybe… maybe Blake had a point. “I can lift shopping bags,” she said under her breath.
Blake stepped into her personal space and pulled her into his arms. His hands felt cold as they rubbed up and down her back, and she could hear the rapid thump of his heart in his chest. He’d been worried, really taken back by her actions. The emotional woman in her sighed in contentment that he cared. The independent woman in her shook a tiny fist in the air.
“Please promise me you’ll ask for help in the future.”
Promises weren’t something she offered unless she could deliver, so she didn’t rush the words he wanted to hear from her lips.
Blake eased back and took her head in his hands. “Promise me.”
“I was feeling so good today. I think the morning sickness is behind me.”
“Promise me.” Blake didn’t let up his plea.
“Okay, fine. I won’t lift anything heavy. Satisfied?” Her clipped words came out a bit harsher than she wanted, but Blake didn’t seem to mind. His smile reached his eyes.
“You promise?”
“I promise!” She pushed against his chest. “Geeze, do you always get your way?”
Nodding, Blake offered, “I promise to jump on anything you need lifted. You won’t have to nag me to get stuff done.”
“Okay, buster, put your muscles where your mouth is. I want this room clear so I can prep the walls… paint…”
Blake’s eyes shot up and a frown fell on his lips.
“Paint fumes?” he questioned.
Already she knew there would be more promises made before night fell.
In the end, she promised to leave the heavy work to Blake and anyone he hired to make it happen, and Samantha had rein to point, spend, and dictate as many changes as she deemed necessary.