“Just checking.”
He gave me one of those intense looks as if he could see right into my soul.
“Have you?”
“No!” I exclaimed. “I feel weird, that’s all.”
He inclined his head, concern tugging the corners of his mouth downward. “Why?”
I hitched a shoulder and nibbled the inside of my cheek. “What if I end up like Mom? Flaky and unreliable. What if there’s something in the genes that after a Bennett gives birth, a switched is flicked and all of a sudden struggles around the world become infinitely more important than what your own kid might be going through?”
Devon sighed. “Reilley. First, you’re no longer a Bennett. You’re a Gray, and our non-flakiness is legendary. Second, you are not your mother. If you were, this,” he swung his hand between us, “Wouldn’t be happening. I adore your mum but dear God, she’d test the patience of the bloody pope.”
I nodded in complete agreement.
“Besides,” he continued. “You honestly think I’d stand idly by and let you get away with that shit?”
That got a laugh. “No. I don’t think you would.”
“There you are then.” He bent his head low, his mouth close to my belly. “Sorry about your mum, kid. She’s an idiot at times.”
I clipped him around the back of the head. “Brave, Mr. Gray. Very brave.”
He chuckled. “Read your book. I’m going to get some sleep.”
He reclined his seat back and in five minutes, he began snoring softly. Lucky bastard. I’d never managed to crack the whole sleeping on a plane thing. The engine noise, the recirculated air, the constant movement of passengers around the cabin all conspired to keep me wide awake. By the time we cleared immigration, I’d be dead on my feet. I couldn’t even enjoy a gin or two due to the extra passenger on board.
I rummaged in my carry-on for my current read and settled down to a long flight.
The plane landed thirty minutes ahead of schedule which, under normal circumstances, I’d celebrate. But when the captain told us they didn’t have a gate and we had to wait on the apron for busses to arrive, I felt like bursting into tears, which wasn’t like me. Putting it down to the amount of hormones crashing through my body, I gave myself a good talking to and swallowed the tears before they had time to fall.
Devon insisted on carrying my bag as well as his own. Not that I planned on arguing. I could barely walk from exhaustion let alone dig my heels in over some stupid feminism shit.
We cleared immigration with relative ease, but we also hit rush hour traffic which meant it took us an extra thirty minutes to get to the hotel. Thankfully our room was ready and waiting, and I managed to undress before collapsing onto the mattress.
I didn’t remember anything else until Devon woke me some ten hours later to go to dinner. We ate in the hotel rather than head out into Melbourne and, still groggy with sleep, I returned to our room, showered, and went back to bed.
When I finally awoke two and a half days after we’d left London, my head had cleared, the sun was shining, and my mood couldn’t have been happier. I heard Devon moving about in the bathroom. He tended to cope with the time difference and length of flight far better than I did.
I threw back the covers and tumbled out of bed, then padded into the bathroom. I found him mid-shave, his face covered in shaving cream, a towel slung low around his waist, and his hair still damp from the shower.
“Good morning,” I said, wrapping my arms around him and resting my chin on his warm, tanned back.
“She lives,” he said, grinning.
I released him and stuck out my tongue. “We all have our challenges, Gray. Besides, I’m sleeping for two.”
His forehead wrinkled. “In that case, what’s your excuse for the last few years?”
“I was preparing,” I said, reaching into the stall to flick on the shower.
He laughed. “Always with the last word, Riles.”
“You know it.”
I slipped off my nightgown, letting it pool on the floor, and stepped into the shower. Bending my head, I let the hot spray fall down my back. The door opened, and Devon joined me. He put his arms around me and rested the flat of his palms on my abdomen.
“You’ve already showered,” I said, leaning back against his shoulder.
“Never could resist you,” he said, easing my head to one side to kiss my neck.
“Can you feel a bump yet?”
More kisses. “No.”
“Will you still love me when I’m fat.”
He sucked lightly on my skin. “No,” he said, his tone matter of fact.
I turned in his arms. We’d played this game since I found out I was pregnant three weeks ago. “I knew it.”
He cradled my chin then closed his mouth over mine. In seconds I was lost to the emotions he stimulated within me. His erection bumped against my belly, and I reached between us to grip him. I squeezed. He groaned, then lifted me, propped my back against the cool tile, hooked my legs over his hips, and slowly pushed inside.
I clung to his shoulders for support as his cock slid in and out, his thrusts slow and controlled. My body opened up, welcoming him to our familiar dance as steam crept up the glass. He shifted his body slightly, and a burst of pleasure erupted within me. I cried out, clenching around him in a frenzy of tiny pulses. His forehead dropped to my shoulder, his groan swept away by the sound of running water. He stilled, then pulled out.
“Now it’s a good morning,” he murmured, pecking my lips and letting me down slowly.
He washed my hair and soaped my body, taking his sweet time between my legs, and then he dried every drop of moisture from my skin with a fluffy towel he’d warmed on the rail.
“I feel treasured,” I said.
He gazed down at me, his eyes tracking my face. “That’s because you are.”
“Sweet talker.”
He caught my hips, pulling me closer, and bent down to steal another kiss. “Always.”
Devon
“Deep breath,” I said as I parked the rental car next to Dad’s trusty old Toyota. “Five, four, three—”
Mum barreled out of the house, her face beaming with happiness. “You’re here!”
“Two, one,” Reilley said with a grin as she pressed down on the door handle and got out.
In seconds I lost sight of her to my family’s enthusiastic welcome. The father-to-be and caring husband in me almost shouted “Careful”, then I remembered that a) we weren’t telling anyone yet and b) Reilley wasn’t fragile as she reminded me on several occasions in the days after we discovered she was pregnant.
I joined them, surreptitiously wrestling her from their arms and folding her into mine. The expression on her face told me she’d figured why I’d done it, and she smiled.
I picked up my nephew, now five-years-old, and settled him on my hip. “Blimey, Christopher, you’ve grown so much.”
I hadn’t seen my family since August, almost five months ago. Kids Christopher’s age changed a lot in that time. I planted a kiss on top of my niece, Sara’s, head and got the first sign she was growing up when she didn’t linger or beg to be picked up, too. I still remembered the time when the pair of them would cling to my leg and I’d have to walk with a child attached to each thigh.
He beamed and wrapped his skinny arms around my neck. “What did you bring me, Uncle Devon?”
“Christopher Joseph Evans,” Diane exclaimed. “That is very bad manners. Apologize right this second.”
He had the wherewithal to look contrite and mumble an apology under his breath until Diane’s attention diverted elsewhere and then his cheeky grin returned.
“I might have a little something in my bag,” I said.
“Yes!” He planted a sloppy kiss on my cheek. “I love you, Uncle Devon.”
A sudden bout of melancholy swept through me. I wanted this kind of environment for my own child, but Reilley and I traveled so much, they wouldn’t get to know my family nearly as
much as I desired.
Not for the first time, I thought about jacking it all in, getting an engineering gig right here in Melbourne. I hadn’t spoken to Reilley about it yet, our impending parenthood too new to think about the practicalities, but sooner or later that conversation needed to be had. Sure, Jared and Paisley had worked it out, but they weren’t me and Reilley. They loved the jet set life. I missed home.
As for Reilley… I honestly wasn’t sure what her reaction might be.
We piled into the living room, everyone excitedly talking over one another. Christopher plastered himself to my side, but once I produced the gift I’d bought for him, he lost interest in me, ripped off the paper, grinned from ear-to-ear, and ran next door to show his best friend, Ben, his latest toy.
I handed Sara her gift. She was much more gracious, and at least stuck around afterward. For five minutes. Then she, too, made her excuses and disappeared.
“Do I smell?” I asked Diane, drawing a snigger from Reilley.
Diane shook her head. “This is normal. Anything or anyone new is interesting for the shortest time, and then they’re off with their friends. As Sara told me the other night, ‘Adults are boring’.”
“Well, now that the kids have buggered off, the boring adults can have some fun,” Dad said producing a bottle of champagne.
I felt Reilley shift beside me.
“It’s a bit early, Dad,” I said, thinking on my feet.
“Poppycock,” he said. “Never too early to celebrate my son returning home to the mother ship. It’s a rare enough occurrence. You’ll have a drink, won’t you, Reilley? Show ‘em how it’s done.”
“I’m driving,” I said, swinging to excuse number two and pulling his attention away from Reilley.
“One won’t hurt,” he said. “By the time you head off, it’ll have worked its way out of your system.”
I loved my dad but, hell, he was stubborn as an old mule. He also couldn’t pick up on a vibe if his life depended on it. Fortunately—or rather unfortunately given our decision to save the news for a few more days—Mum wasn’t nearly so obtuse.
“Oh my God,” she expelled, clutching at her chest. “Oh, is it true?”
Diane caught on, her face breaking into a beaming smile as her gaze switched between Reilley and me. Dad, still clueless and clinging to his bottle of champagne like he’d won first prize in a raffle, frowned.
“Will someone please tell me what’s going on?”
I twisted my head to look at Reilley. She nodded, and at least didn’t look unhappy about the unplanned turn of events.
“Reilley and I are expecting a baby,” I said.
Diane squealed then hugged Reilley. Mum burst into tears. Dad popped the cork on the champagne and whooped.
“Now that’s cause for celebration.”
I shot a desperate look at Joe, my brother-in-law, who grinned and leaned over to shake my hand. “Welcome to parenthood. It’s a helluva ride.”
Mum insisted on making Reilley a mocktail which involved lots of fizzy water and lemon juice, and very little else, then proceeded to tell her what to expect, advice that was more than thirty-five years out of date. Reilley let her get it all out, nodding in the right places, and asking questions that made Mum feel a part of it all.
I couldn’t love her more.
“I guess we’ll have to buy them a gift now,” I murmured at a suitable break in the excitement.
Reilley shook her head and rolled her eyes. “You’re awful.”
I chuckled. “See if you still think that after I’ve made you come shopping with me. I need help choosing something suitable.”
She arched a brow. “So, what’s new?”
“Oh, look at you two lovebirds,” Mum said with her palm pressed over her heart.
“Right, time to go,” I said, getting to my feet. I held out my hand for Reilley who, catching the direction of travel, didn’t hesitate.
“Already?” Mum asked, crestfallen.
“Mum, Reilley’s tired,” I said, shamefully using my wife’s pregnant state to suit my own agenda. “We’re here for ten days. You’ll get to see plenty of us.”
“Fair enough,” she conceded. “Come around for dinner tonight.”
I shook my head. “Tomorrow night. We’ve got plans for tonight.”
Reilley shot me a look. We didn’t have any plans, but I needed the space. Three hours fawning was enough in any man’s book. I thought the world of my parents but had reached my limit for today.
“Tomorrow then,” she said nestling in for a hug.
“Definitely.”
“I’ll make spaghetti Bolognese. Or shepherd’s pie. Or steaks. Yes, that’s what I’ll do. I’ll get your dad to grill some steaks on the barbie. And shrimp, too. Although no shrimp for you, Reilley. Come to think of it, we’ll skip the shrimp.”
I grinned. “Calm down. You’re clucking like a mother hen.”
She clapped her hands. “And I’ll pick up some wool in town. In white or yellow as you don’t know what you’re having yet.”
I slid my gaze to Reilley who couldn’t stop her laughter from spilling over.
“Yes, Mum,” I said, kissing her cheek. “Dad, maybe slip her a brandy tonight otherwise she’ll get no sleep.”
Dad nodded sagely. “And maybe a sleeping tablet, too.”
Mum flicked out at him with the back of her hand. “Cheeky.”
I captured Reilley’s hand. “Let’s go before world war three breaks out.”
The entire family crowded around the door to wave us off. As soon as they were out of sight, I blew out a long, slow breath.
“Fuck me.”
“I did,” Reilley said. “Hence the reason for your mom’s over-excitement.”
I threw back my head and laughed. “Christ, I love you, Reilley Gray.”
“Just as well,” she said, snaking her hand up my thigh. “I’d be a bitch of an ex.”
Reilley
“Oh, look at these,” I exclaimed, picking up the cutest pair of chucks in a soft baby pink. “I love them.”
“What if it’s a boy?” Devon asked.
I grinned. “Pink works. As you’ll find out when you open one of your Christmas presents.”
He laughed. “I can’t wait.”
“I’m getting them,” I said, adding them to my overflowing basket of kiddie stuff which included a stuffed koala and an all-in-one outfit with “I’m so cute I must be Australian” emblazoned across the front, which Devon adored. I made a beeline for the checkout with my long-suffering husband trailing behind.
We exited the store and, like a magpie drawn to a piece of silver paper blowing in the wind, I spotted a toy shop directly opposite. I turned to Devon with an impish grin.
“One more.”
“You said that two stores ago.”
I linked my arm through his and gave him a beseeching look. “Please, baby.” I only ever called Devon “baby” when I wanted to tease him.
“One more,” he said, holding up his forefinger to reiterate the point.
“I promise,” I said. “We’ll take a quick look around, then go to lunch.” On cue, my stomach growled. “See, even my belly is on your side.”
With considerable—and admirable—restraint, I only bought two things from the toy store, both of which were small enough to pack in my luggage. Laden with bags, we strolled through the mall, heading for the food court. Christmas songs blared over the sound system, and everywhere people seemed to be in a good mood.
The smell of greasy burgers and deep-fried potatoes reached me as we rounded the last corner, causing my mouth to fill with saliva. I was constantly hungry these days, but also conscious of not falling into the “eating for two” myth. At thirty-one, I wasn’t ready to give up on a firm, tight body just yet.
Devon found a spare table and left me with the bags while he went to fetch our lunch. I scanned around, people watching, when I spotted a familiar face in the crowd. An unwelcome familiar face, one I hadn’t seen i
n more than three years.
Caroline.
I shifted my body and ducked my head, but too late to avoid her. Her eyes widened, and then she half-waved and started to make her way over, sidling between the packed tables and Christmas shopping bag strewn all over the floor.
“Reilley,” she said, hitting me with a smile that looked genuine, but you never could tell with Caroline. “How nice to see you.”
Really? “Hi,” I said. “You look well, Caroline.”
“Thanks.” She placed her tray of food on the table, pulled out a chair, and sat down, uninvited. I looked over to where Devon was lining up, his back to me, completely unaware of Caroline’s presence. “As do you.” She picked up her drink and sucked noisily through the straw. “Is Devon with you?”
The word “no” simmered on the edge of my tongue, but in a few minutes, she’d know that was a lie.
“Yes.” I jerked my chin toward the burger joint where Devon had finally reached the front of the line.
Caroline followed my gaze then returned her attention to me. Her eyes fell to my left hand. “I saw in the paper that you guys had married,” she said. “I’m genuinely happy for you.”
“Thanks,” I murmured, catching Devon on his way over with a tray brimful of food. He recognized Caroline sitting opposite me and his eyes narrowed.
“Hello, Caroline,” he said, his tone laced with warning. “What can we do for you?”
So formal, so cold, so unlike the man I knew. Then again, Caroline had made his life a misery for more than four years. He was well within his rights to be pissed at her, and to refuse to hide it.
Caroline ducked her chin into her chest and nibbled on her bottom lip. “I guess I deserve the cold shoulder. I’m not here to cause trouble, Devon.”
He sat beside me and glared at Caroline. “Then why are you here?”
“It wasn’t planned,” she said. “I’m shopping for a few last bits for Christmas, just like you, and I spotted Reilley. I wanted to say hi, that’s all.”
“And now you have,” Devon said, staring at her pointedly.
Caroline flushed bright red. This wasn’t Devon’s usual style; he was the kindest man I knew. But Caroline had brought this on herself. So much rotten history had passed between the two of them, he was bound to feel sore about it.
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