Guilt crawled all over me, and I silently pledged to do better. To not be such a bitch. Holding his gaze, I lifted his shirt over his head. He didn’t question me; he knew what I was doing because it was what I always did when my hormones went wonky and I felt guilty. He took the shirt from me and let me do my thing.
Placing my hand to his chest, I ran my fingers over his scar. When he’d been shot a few months ago, I’d thought I was going to lose him. It had been the scariest time of my life. The waiting to know if he would survive had almost killed me.
I let his gaze go while I kissed his scar. My hands roamed his chest while I did this, and then I wrapped my arms around him and rested my head against him. His arms circled me and he pressed a kiss to the top of my head.
“Baby,” he said, his voice all gruff, “I’m not going anywhere.”
I inhaled a deep breath and squeezed my eyes shut as my emotions consumed me. Damn hormones. I was helpless to control my tears, so I simply let them fall. And because he understood, or maybe just because he was the best kind of man, Kick simply stood there holding me tightly, letting me know I was okay and that we would be okay.
He waited patiently for me to get myself together. When I finally lifted my head and stepped away from him, I said, “I can’t wait for our baby to be born. You are going to make the best daddy.”
Nodding his head slowly, as if he was deep in thought, he said, “I’m gonna do better than our parents did, Evie.”
“Yeah,” I whispered, “I know.”
He stood quietly for another few moments, just watching me, deep in thought, and then he said, “Get dressed and meet me in the kitchen so you can direct me with these rum balls.”
I smiled, all my earlier fight gone. “Okay.”
As I moved past him to exit the laundry, he said, “And Evie? For the record, you are nowhere near exploding. I fuckin’ love your baby curves.”
I glanced back at him to find his eyes glued firmly to my ass. It took all my willpower not to say to hell with making sure our home was perfect for when our families arrived. The way my husband loved me was something else, and against all my better judgement, I suddenly felt the urge to get pregnant again just as fast as he wanted me to.
2
Tatum
Although it was only eight in the morning, the sticky heat of the day wrapped itself around me as I made the short trek up the path to the front door of Nitro’s house. My home. I’d been living there for about six weeks, and was slowly getting used to thinking of it as my home, too. Nitro had asked me a few times if I wanted to find a house that would be a new home to both of us, but I didn’t. I loved his place. Even when I was home alone, I could still feel his presence. No way was I leaving that behind.
I quietly unlocked the front door and slipped inside. Walking so as not to wake Nitro, I’d almost made my way to our bedroom when his voice sounded from the lounge room.
“Vegas.” Deep and rumbly, it hit my gut the way it always did, coiling desire there.
I stopped and turned towards the entryway of the lounge room. He sat on the couch facing me with an expression I knew well—it was the unreadable one he often wore. “You’re awake early,” I said as I moved towards him.
He lifted a brow. “Not as early as you.”
I ignored the dark tone in his voice and sat on his lap. His arms moved easily around me, one hand resting on my thigh, the other on my waist. Holding his gaze, I said, “Merry Christmas, champ.”
He let me kiss him before saying in a warning tone, “Tatum.”
I knew what he wanted, but I didn’t want to give it to him. Not today. Today I just wanted to enjoy our first Christmas together. But the determined glint in his eye told me I wasn’t getting out of this. I sighed. “I went to see Billy.”
He took that in and didn’t say anything until a few moments later when he muttered, “Fuck.”
My body stiffened, and I attempted to move off his lap. He had other ideas, though, and tightened his hold on me. “See now, this was why I didn’t tell you I was going to see him. I knew it would piss you off.” Billy had been a sore point in our relationship. Pretty much our only one. We’d been tiptoeing around him since I’d moved in. Hell, he’d been an issue since we’d first met.
His jaw clenched. “It doesn’t piss me off that you went to see him. I’m frustrated that you didn’t feel like you could tell me.”
“I just didn’t want to cause an argument today.”
“Fuck, I’d never tell you that you couldn’t see him or argue over it. What makes you think I would?”
“Let me count the ways. You don’t like him and I get the impression you’d rather I have nothing to do with him outside of work.”
“That is true, but what is also true is that I don’t control you. You wanna see Billy, you go right ahead.” His tone turned bossy. “But, you don’t keep that shit from me. You and me, we’re one hundred percent honest with each other, Vegas.”
My man never failed to surprise me. I should have broached this subject weeks ago, but I hadn’t wanted to cut in on our loved-up time. Looping my arms around his neck, I pressed a kiss to his lips, loving the way he deepened it and took control. By the time he was finished with me, I was breathless and ready to move this to the bedroom.