Chapter 1

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"Dominic Toretto, what are you doing?" I asked my husband as he tinkered in the garage with some tools.

"I'm trying to find ... ah, here it is." he smiled as he grabbed a paint can.

"And what exactly is here?" I smiled at him.

"Varnish, and I don't want you anywhere near it."

"What the hell do you need varnish for?"

"Don't you worry about that," he said, walking over to me. "You were still asleep when I got out of bed. How are you feeling?"

"I feel fine." I told him.

"Tiny ..."

"Baby, I'm fine now. I promise." I smiled, cupping his face in my hands.

This morning, around 3 am, I woke up to vomit and was up for a while. One of the worst parts about pregnancy is the morning sickness that hits all the time. I've been getting it the worst in the early mornings, and it's been a little difficult to manage, but it's been slowing down, thankfully. Dom worries, and I understand that, so I do my best not to snap at him when I'm a little emotionally tender. That's what we've been calling it. I know that I'm being extra bitchy after getting sick, but he refuses to use that word.

"You eat something?" he asked.

"No, not yet; I came looking for you."

"Alright, let's get you and this baby some food. What are you in the mood for?"

"Something sweet." I smiled.

"Tiny." he scolded me.

The doctors have told me a few times to monitor my sugar intake. I'm not diabetic, but I'm getting close to gestational diabetes. The sweets are just calling my name. I like my candy but have had to decrease my candy intake.

"Not sugary. I meant something like blueberry pancakes. Ooh, a yogurt parfait!"

"You want both." he chuckled.

"Yeah."

"Let's eat." he said before pressing his lips to mine.

"Is that on the menu too?" I laughed, wrapping my arms around his neck.

"Always." he smirked, picking me up bridal style. "You tired?"

"A little." I yawned.

"Breakfast and a nap?"

"Will you lay down with me?"

"Of course."

He made me the blueberry pancakes because I just can't master them the way that he does, and I made the yogurt parfaits. Dom has been helping me watch my sugar intake, and I've been doing my best to curb my sugary cravings. For the past two months, I've been craving everything sweet, and according to my man, it's not a good thing.

"26 weeks, Tiny," Dom said, wrapping his arms around me as I did the dishes. "Six months and two weeks, our baby is almost here."

"14 weeks left, and we're gonna be parents." I smiled, leaning into his embrace.

"Come on, nap time for you."

"I'll be fine, let me finish here, and I'll meet you in bed."

"You sure?"

"Yeah, I've got this."

The past four months have been oddly calm. After everything that happened in Brazil, all the time we spent running around and hiding, being able to live this calmly took some time to get used to. Everyone else settled in pretty easily. I just ... I couldn't quite get rid of the paranoia that we were being followed. After I did the dishes, I found Dom lying in our bed and channel surfing. He patted the mattress next to him, and I cuddled him.

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