Every Way (Brush of Love 4)

“I just love it when you kiss me.”

“No, this smile’s different. It’s ... mischievous. Bryan McBride, what have you done?” she asked.

“Not a damn thing,” I said.

Hailey started to protest before a familiar look crossed her face, that look she got when her insides were being used as a punching bag. I helped her sit down before I pressed my hands to her stomach so I could feel our child kicking out at us.

“She’s moving,” I said.

“Yes, he is,” Hailey said, grinning.

She groaned as our child kicked against my cheek.

“I feel you, little one,” I whispered. “I know you’re there.”

Our child kicked out again as Hailey slid down into her dinner chair. I rolled up her shirt so I could cradle my hands against her skin. Then, I pressed a kiss to her stomach. Our child was dancing, happy and full of life. Our child’s kick was strong, knocking against my lips as I pressed kisses into Hailey?

??s stomach. We finally had a chance at happiness. We finally had our chance at forever.

It pulled a smile across my face as I thought about my surprise for her.

I was building her a home. The home she had always dreamed of. Instead of moving the nursery furniture into this house, I was going to be moving it into that house. I knew Hailey would be upset because of the lengths she had gone to in order to paint the room she had, but now that she was finished, I could put the finishing touches on it. I could come in and have her artwork made into wallpaper I could use in the nursery in our new home, our new home that would have as many rooms as we needed.

It would symbolize the start of our new family and a fresh start for all of us. The house I was building wasn’t tainted with either of our pasts. The only thing that would touch it was our future. There were things that plagued us in this house. Arguments we’d had when we were dating and times that John had come in high as a kite. Moments when my parents had chanced to leave their decadence to descend onto my pathetic life and pick it apart.

I didn’t want to bring our child home to any of that. I wanted to usher in this new phase of our life with a clean slate.

The house I was building was going to have it all. Plenty of rooms, a built-in art studio for Hailey that had the best view of the entire place. Bathrooms with jet tubs that she found relaxing even now in the late stages of her pregnancy. There would be a massive kitchen for us to cook in and plenty of room to entertain guests. And it would have a massive backyard for our child to grow up running around in.

I was evening making plans to build him or her a custom playground set.

“I see that grin again,” Hailey said. “What in the world are you thinking about?”

“How nice dinner smells,” I said.

“Oh, no, no. You’re not getting out of this that easily,” she said. “What are you thinking about?”

I looked up into Hailey’s eyes and debated on whether to tell her. I wanted it to be a surprise, but the house was almost finished. I could tell her about it, and we could move in together. She could see the rest of the progress and make any changes she wanted to make.

But as I drew in a deep breath, I saw that twinkle in her eye. That anxious twinkle that always made it worth it to surprise her. She was terrible when it came to finding out surprises, and I knew I had her truly in the dark with this one.

No. I wanted to see her face when I put the entire house together. Just for her.

Just for us and our baby.

“My child is kicking out at me,” I said. “It’s ... a miracle what your body has done.”

I watched Hailey’s face soften as she ran her hand through my hair.

“Dinner’s getting cold,” she said.

“One dinner for my hungry wife, coming up.”

Chapter 2

Hailey

Last night had been fabulous. Dinner was wonderful, dessert was intoxicating, and I fell asleep with Bryan’s voice muttering how much he loved me. Our intimate life had skyrocketed since I’d gotten pregnant. My hormones were in overdrive, and it caused us to mark every city we came into contact with while we had been on my European tour. He would wrap his arms around me and lazily slide in, robbing me of my very breath as he shot electricity throughout my body. I loved it when he held me close and cradled my stomach. It was like he was holding the proof of our love as we continued to brew it between the two of us. He was my muse. My artistic expression. My body’s way of proving to me that I was still alive and kicking despite everything I had gone through.