His arm draping around her middle banishes any remnants of tension. She settles on a long exhale, bum snugged against his groin, back to his chest. She insinuated herself so close, there is no space between them, and she prefers it that way. He's warmth against her back, warmth against her belly as he splays his fingers against her, earning a contented hum.

"The pillow doesn't smell like you," she mumbles. "If I look at you, I won't sleep. You're too handsome and distracting."

Settling, settling, her fingers trace along the back of his hand before she settles her palm over his. If she were pregnant, would he place his hand here? Would he rub her belly in hopes of comforting their child? The thought warms her.

"Did you ever step on him?"