Wethering the Storm (The Storm 2)

“Yes, boss,” I mutter, giving my eyelashes one last coat of mascara. I put the wand back in, screw on the cap, and drop it in my makeup bag.

I don’t know why I’m bothering putting makeup on. It’s only going to come off at the spa.

I leave the bathroom in just my underwear, fastening in my earrings. “My shadow will indeed be picking Simone up, while my fat ass sits in the car.”

“You’re not fat, you’re pregnant. Hot, sexy pregnant. Come here.” He beckons to me with his finger.

I approach Jake, who’s sitting on the edge of the bed in his boxer shorts. I stand between his legs.

He places his hands on either side of my swollen tummy and kisses it.

Tilting his face, he looks up at me. I rest my hands against his cheeks.

“Stay home with me today,” he murmurs.

“I can’t. Simone and I have had this spa day booked for ages, and she goes back to London in a few days. Anyway, you’re going into the studio today.”

He turns his face away. Pressing his cheek against my pregnant belly, he lets out a sigh.

I run my fingers through his bed hair. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.”

“Jake…” I urge him to look at me.

“I dunno,” he says with a shrug. “I just have a weird feeling.”

“What kind of feeling?” I sit beside him on the bed.

I don’t like the look in his eyes.

My heart jumps in my chest, making my pulse thrum.

Then, lightning-quick, Jake pulls me down on the bed, trapping my legs with his. He pins my arms above my head and kisses me, his whole demeanour instantly changing to relaxed.

“I just have a feeling you should stay in bed with me.” He runs his tongue lightly over my lower lip. “You taste minty,” he murmurs.

“The power of toothpaste.” I nip his lip with my teeth. I hate when he hides things from me.

“Someone’s snarky this morning.”

“Someone’s evading.”

He looks directly into my eyes. Vivid blues burn into my brown.

“I’m not evading.” His voice is controlled, measured, but harsh. “I just wanted to spend the day in bed with you. But maybe, snarky, you should go out before we have a fight neither of us wants.”

“I’m sorry,” I sigh. “I don’t mean to be. I’m just tired. The baby is so wriggly. I haven’t had a full night’s sleep in so long.”

Releasing my pinned arms, Jake moves down to my tummy. “Let your mama sleep,” he says. “If she’s moody and tired, Daddy doesn’t get any.”

“Jake! Don’t say sex things to the baby!”

“Don’t interrupt, beautiful. This is a father-and-son talk,” he teases.

He glances up at me through his long black lashes. Just like that, the almost-fight is gone.

“You’re so sure we’re having a boy.” I run my fingertips down his cheek.

We didn’t find out the sex of the baby at the five-month scan. We both agreed we wanted to wait until the birth.

“Sweetheart, the baby keeps you up all night, it’s definitely a boy.” He winks.

“You’re incorrigible!” I giggle.

“Just how you like me,” he whispers over my skin. Moving up my body, he runs his tongue lightly around the edge of my bra and presses a kiss there.

The sensation tickles down my body. Then the baby kicks me, hard.

I wince.

Seriously, it hurts so much sometimes that I expect bruises. I think I’m carrying a minihulk in there.

“You okay?” Jake asks, concerned.

“Yeah fine, the baby’s just kicking.” I take his hand and place it on the spot where our little ninja is going for it.

Smoothing his hand over my stomach, he rests his cheek against my breasts and starts to softly sing Guns N’ Roses’ “Don’t Cry.”

Our baby has a penchant for old rock songs. It’s the only thing that settles him.

Him. Jake’s even got me saying it.

I’ve tried playing Jake’s music when he isn’t around, but it doesn’t stop the baby’s marathon kicking sessions. Apparently, the baby will only settle for the live, acoustic renditions of Jake singing old rock songs.

Which has made for some interesting evenings.

Jake goes all out, wearing leather pants and playing his old Strat—when Jake does something, he does it to the max. And it always ends in us having seriously hot sex.

We lie together until Jake finishes the song. With the baby now settled, I get up from the bed and go to get dressed.

I’m in the dressing area, tying my black maternity wrap dress, when Jake comes in.

He pulls on his black pyjama pants, then comes up behind me, sliding his arms around my bump. He nuzzles my neck. “You want some breakfast?”

“Cereal.”

“Okay.” He places a kiss on my neck and gives my bum a gentle slap before wandering off.

I slip my feet into silver ballet pumps, then grab my black Céline Nano tote that Jake bought me for Christmas and hang it on my shoulder.

I grab my lip gloss from the bathroom and put it in my bag. I get my phone off the nightstand and head for the kitchen.

When I get there, I find Jake, Stuart, and Dave around the breakfast bar.

Ah, my men.

My heart. My best friend. My bodyguard. Just missing my dad, and I’d have the complete set of important men in my life.

Stuart’s eating toast, Dave’s sipping on coffee, and Jake’s eating Cocoa Krispies. There’s another bowl with cereal and milk in it, waiting for me.

Cocoa Krispies, the American equivalent of Coco Pops. To me, they will always be Coco Pops. The only. The best.

I put my bag down and sit on the stool beside Jake. I lean in, giving him a quick kiss on the lips, but he pulls me in and kisses me harder. Parting my lips with his, he slips his tongue into my mouth.

He tastes of Coco Pops. So fucking delicious.

Even with our audience, a heat still spreads between my legs.

“Please,” Stuart groans. “No tongues over breakfast.”

Breaking from Jake, my face flushed, I dig into my Coco Pops.

“When’s Josh back?” I spoon some cereal into my mouth.

The chocolate hits my tongue and I moan a little sound in my mouth.

Jake’s hand slides down my thigh, pushing between my legs, parting them. I meet his eyes, then watch as he readjusts himself in his pants. I bite on my lip as he flashes me a sexy grin.

“This afternoon,” Stuart says, cutting in on our moment. “He’s got to go to the hospital first, so I’m not seeing him until tonight.”

Josh has been away for the last five days at a doctors’ conference. It’s the first time Stuart and him have spent any real time apart, and Stuart has missed him tons. I know because he’s told me so every single day while Josh has been gone.

“So this means you’ll finally cheer the fuck up,” Jake imparts.

“I haven’t been that miserable,” Stuart protests.

“You have.” I smile, gathering more cereal onto my spoon.

“I need you to come into the label with me today,” Jake says to Stuart. “There’s some work I need you to do.”

“Sure, no probs,” Stuart mumbles, biting down on his toast. “It’ll keep me busy until tonight.”

I glance at the wall clock and see I have ten minutes left before I’m due to pick up Simone.

I shovel the remainder of my cereal in my mouth and put my bowl in the dishwasher.

“You ready to go?” I ask Dave.

“Yep.” He takes one last sip of his coffee and goes over to the sink and washes it out.

Grabbing my bag, I lean over and give Jake a kiss on the cheek. “I’ll be home at about four thirty, all pampered and smelling pretty.”

“You always smell pretty.” He stares into my eyes for a long moment.

“What?” I smile.

“Nothing,” he shakes his head, breaking his stare. “Have a good day.” He kisses me on the lips. “I’ll see you at four thirty. We’re staying in tonight. Takeout and a movie, okay?”

“Sounds perfect.” I peck him once more on the lips.

“I love you,” he says as I start to move away.

Turning as I walk, I smile. “Love you more.”

“Not possible.” He grins, his eyes lingering on me. But there’s something off in his eyes, and it makes me feel uneasy, just like before in the bedroom.

His eyes move from me to Dave. “Take good care of my girl.”

Dave gives him a strange look. “Always do, Jake.”

Letting me through the door first, Dave and I head outside to my black BMW X5. Another Christmas present from Jake.

Except I never get to drive it because Dave drives me everywhere. I’ve driven it twice in five months. But I swear, once the baby is here, I’m driving this car everywhere. Dave can just sit in the backseat like I currently do.

I climb in my usual place behind the passenger seat and buckle in, setting the seat belt around my bump.

Dave fires the engine up and starts toward Denny’s house to pick up Simone.

“Can you put some music on, please?” I ask Dave.

“Anything in particular?”

“No.” I shake my head.

Dave starts searching though the radio stations and hits on one belting out Meatloaf’s “You Took the Words Right out of My Mouth.”

Clapping my hands together, I say, “This! Keep this on!” I start singing along loudly.

Chuckling, Dave turns it up, but I’m sure he’s just trying to drown me out.

We reach Denny’s house a few minutes later, and Simone is already waiting out front.

Dave gets out and opens the door for her.

Thanking him, she climbs in and pulls off her sunglasses.

“You look tired,” she observes.

“Is that code for, ‘Tru, you look like shit’?”

“No.” She swats my thigh. “It’s code for ‘You look tired.’ Being pregnant is really wearing you out, huh?”

“Yep,” I sigh. “I had such an easy pregnancy in the beginning, but now the baby is getting bigger, and I feel uncomfortable all the time. Plus the baby gets so active at night that I’m hardly getting any sleep, and I just feel cranky all the time.” Unexpected tears prick my eyes.

I take a deep breath, holding them back.

“Then this spa day is exactly what you need. Some pampering will make you feel tons better.”

“I hope so,” I utter as Dave heads for the Four Seasons Spa.

Dave pulls the car up front the Four Seasons. Sitting forward in my seat, I say to him, “You can leave us here, and I’ll call you when we’re ready to be picked up.”

He turns in his seat, not looking so hot about this idea. “I should escort you in.”

“Dave, it’s a spa that deals with celebrities all the time, and I’m hardly a celebrity—”

“Just carrying the baby of one,” Simone inputs.

I give her a “not helping” look.

With a laugh, Simone opens the car door and hops out.

“Just go do something fun, and I’ll call you when we need you.”