by L M Allen
“Som-a!” she squeals, and gives her a big hug.
“Good morning,” Mae says quietly, and Willow launches herself at her too. I’m there in a flash to catch her, but Mae has her.
“Careful, monkey. We don’t want accidents on—”
“Mum’s birthday!” Summer gasps, sitting bolt upright, her blonde hair all over the place.
“Oooh! It’s Mum’s birthday, Willow!” Mae claps her hands excitedly. “You know what that means? Santa comes tonight!”
Willow isn’t two for another two months; she doesn’t really understand that Christmas equals presents and great food. Especially with our family, but she nods and giggles like she’s starting to get it.
Gary and Bells will be coming over tomorrow with their two kids, and Davey and Nikki with their son, as well as all the grandparents and my half brother and his family. It’s going to be a houseful, as always, until we all fly out to Mexico to celebrate the New Year with Marina and her family too. Willow has never known anything other than a huge loving family. And she never will.
Summer springs from bed like a gymnast, and Mae hands Willow back to me before joining her. “Let’s go make Mum some breakfast.”
We all troop towards the stairs hung with garlands, Summer having taken off running with Mae hot on her heels, as Willow and I walk after them at a more sedate pace.
When Eva jogs down the stairs, thirty minutes later, the girls all jump up from the table and shout, “Happy birthday, Muma!” Well, the bigger girls do. Willow actually said, “Happee day, Mumma.” It makes me beam with pride when Eva pulls Mae and Summer into a big hug, and then walks towards me, with Willow squirming madly in my arms in her attempt to get to her mum.
“Morning, sweet pea.” Eva reaches for Willow and kisses her nose before squeezing her tight. She shifts Willow around to her hip and leans in and pecks my lips. “Morning.”
“Good morning. Happy birthday. Again.” Eva’s eyes shoot to mine, and I give her a cheeky wink.
“Thank you. Again.”
“This is for you, Mum,” Mae says, and produces the card she made at school for Eva, a proud smile on her face. Eva puts Willow down and crouches beside her, so she can see too.
Eva gasps as she opens it. “You made this? For me?” Mae nods, a little shyness creeping in, and Eva stands and pulls her into a Muma-bear hug. “Thank you. That is amazing. I really love the glitter.”
“Aaaand this one.” Summer jumps in with her own creation.
“Wow! Girls. I didn’t know I had two little artists in the making.” They both grin at their mum, and I hand Willow her card to give to Eva.
“Give it to Muma, angel,” I tell her quietly. Willow smiles and stretches out the envelope towards Eva.
“Thank you, sweet pea.” She carefully tears the envelope and melts when she sees Willow’s ‘writing’ inside. “Awww. You clever girl, you. Thank you.”
“This one is from me,” I tell Eva as I hand her my card. She rips the envelope, and then flips open the card. Her eyes fly to mine.
“These are for today?” I nod, and she squeals, throwing herself at me in a big hug. “I bloody love you.” She kisses me hard, and then scoops up our uber-excited toddler. Willow doesn’t know why she’s excited, just that her mum is. “Kew Gardens does Christmas! You’re going to love it!” She kisses Willow’s head. “Let’s eat and get you dressed, and then we can go!”
Eva settles Willow in her seat beside hers, and sits down for her birthday breakfast of waffles and fruit salad.
She gave me lessons when she was expecting Willow. Now, I make bloody amazing waffles.
***
Later that evening, Eva and I are snuggled up on the sofa, the Christmas tree lit, the fire blazing and the candles glowing, making her hair look platinum as it falls through my fingers and Christmas music floats around us. “They were all out like a light.” Eva sighs as she leans her head against my shoulder.
“Busy day,” I say, stifling a yawn. “But I can give you your present now.” Eva tilts her head to see my face, and I kiss her lips lightly, before I have to move to retrieve the box I’ve waited all day to give her.
“I’ve already had my present. Several times.” Eva smiles as I sit back down beside her.
“Well, this is another one.” I hand over the long, slim box and Eva takes it. Her eyes move to mine. I nod, leaning against the cushions to watch as she tears open the wrapping paper. I really hope she likes it. It took me hours of scouring the jewellery shops to choose it.
She leaves the paper on the sofa, and I see her chest rise with the big breath she takes before she flips open the lid. “Oh...” she breathes.
“Do you like it?” I have to know. I can’t stand it.
“I love it. Will...”
“Come here. I’ll put it on.” I take the box from her hands and carefully pluck out the simple, diamond, drop necklace. I open the clasp and Eva shifts around, moving her hair over her shoulder.
I position the delicate filigree and the pendent, and then fasten it. I love the way she shivers when I do. I lean in and kiss her exposed neck. Her breath sucks in, and I’m instantly hard. Knowing what I do to her has that effect on me.
I drop my mouth lower, my hands sliding around her body to cup her breasts.
“Wait. Wait. I want to give you a present too.”
“It’s not my birthday.” If it were, I know what I’d want.
“It’s not mine either.” She laughs, and I glance at the clock. Midnight.
“Mmm. Then, Merry Christmas, baby.” I suck her neck lightly, and she pushes away from me. She walks over to the tree and feels around, until she pulls out a small gift bag. She moves back towards me, her eyes stuck to mine.
“Here.” I reach for the bag and try to read her behaviour.
“Thank you.” She perches beside me, her body angled towards mine, as I pull off the tape keeping the bag closed. I take out an envelope.
“The box first,” she says quietly. So I put the envelope down and pull the box free. I tear off the paper, open the long, thin box and suck in a breath as I turn the white stick over inside it.
“You’re pregnant?” She nods once, her lips stretching into an excited smile. I dive on her, my grinning mouth clashing with hers, my hands eager to remove her clothes. Now. I love her pregnant body.
“Wait. Wait. Now do the envelope.”
“Baby. You can call off Christmas. It doesn’t get better than this.” She pushes at my shoulders, insisting that I look inside the envelope anyway. I pick it up, and Eva is practically bouncing on the spot. I rip it apart slowly, my eyes on hers. I pull out the contents, without looking, and gradually lower my gaze.
“What...?” I don’t understand. “What is this?” Eva moves in closer.
“That’s the baby’s head, and spine.” Her fingertip lightly traces the shape on the black square I’m holding. “And...that’s the other one.”
“Other...?” I look again, harder. “Twins?” She nods, her shoulders rising in an excited squeal.
“Merry Christmas,” she whispers.
“I was wrong. It just got better. Sweetheart,” I choke as I fall to my knees in front of her. I dip down and kiss her belly. “Merry Christmas, babies. I’m your daddy. I can’t wait to meet you both.” Eva giggles, her hands in my hair. “How many weeks are you? How do you feel?”
“Only sixish. And I’m fine.”
“When did you find out?”
“Last week. I’ve been dying to tell you, but I wanted...this.” She glances around the Christmassy living room, and I’m glad. I’m glad I got this picture-perfect experience with my wife.
“I’ll never have a better Christmas present until I get grandkids.”
“Yeah.” She sighs. “I’ve kinda shot myself in the foot here, haven’t I?” I pull Eva towards me, her knees wide, and kiss her until she’s pressing herself against me in a different way. More urgently.
I stand and pick up the blanket from the arm of the
sofa. I take her hand, bringing it to my lips, and tug until she stands and follows me over to the rug in front of the fire.
I kneel, grab her hips, kiss her belly, and gently encourage her down beside me. My hands rise to her hair as my eyes move slowly over my wife’s beautiful face. “I love you so much, Eva.” She smiles softly. Seductively. And she yanks her top over her head. She lies down, pulling me over her. On her. With her. For the rest of our lives.
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About the Author
L M Allen lives in Northamptonshire, England with her husband, three kids and enough animals to fill a small zoo.
She loves the peace and quiet of the countryside but will hop on the train and take things up a gear in London whenever she gets the chance.
She is obsessed with romance, chocolate and dogs. Not necessarily in that order.
Read more at L M Allen’s site.