Fox (Stone Cold Fox Trilogy Book 3)

by Max Monroe

  The perfect place for Levi and me and our children.

  Plus, I imagined once our two babies entered the world, I’d need a hot bath every now and then to keep my sanity. My mother, along with pretty much anyone else who knew I was pregnant, had already warned me just one little newborn was a lot of work, but Levi and I were apparently overachievers and had decided to go all out and create two tiny people at the same freaking time.

  Once my body was fully submerged in deliciously warm water and vanilla-scented bubbles, and only the very top of my rounded belly peeked out above the water, I sighed. It was a wistful, sated sigh, and Levi didn’t miss it.

  “That good?” he questioned, sliding a white ottoman over to the edge of the tub and sitting down near my feet.

  It was all good. The ah-mazing sex we’d just had twenty minutes ago. This perfect bath. Every-fucking-thing.

  “I’m glad we bought this house.”

  He chuckled. “That damn bathtub was why we bought this house.”

  “It’s not the only reason.” I rolled my eyes and slid my hand through the bubbles, watching in awe as they clung to the tips of my fingers.

  His blue eyes danced with amusement. “The instant you walked into this bathroom and spotted this damn tub, you literally said, We’ll take it!”

  He had a point. But that didn’t mean I needed to let him know he was right.

  “I don’t remember that.”

  “Uh-huh,” he said and smirked like the sexiest devil I’d ever seen. “Sure, you don’t, you little liar.”

  “Even if this was the reason, which I’m not saying it is, there are other amazing things about this house. You can’t deny that.”

  “Baby,” he said, and his midnight-blue eyes locked with mine. “You know why I love this house?”

  “Why?”

  “Because you’re in this house,” he said. “The rest is just minor details.”

  “God, that’s…that’s so sweet, Levi.” My heart pounded inside my chest and found its way into my eyes. “And alarming that you think everything else is just details. We have twins on the way.”

  He laughed. “It’s the truth. You’re my whole world.” He rubbed his hand across my rounded belly. “You and these two little babies that, trust me, I haven’t forgotten about.”

  I placed my hand over his. “I love you.”

  “I know,” he said with a sexy, confident smirk, but before I could offer a sarcastic, irrational retort about being unloved, he added, “And I love you too. So you can go ahead and swipe that cute little pout off your lips.”

  Was I really pouting?

  I traced my bottom lip with my wet fingertips and found my answer.

  A full-on, puppy-dog pout.

  Man, I was kind of ridiculous.

  I blamed the hormones.

  His playful blue gaze met mine, and I narrowed my eyes. “You know you shouldn’t test my patience when I’m all hopped up on pregnancy hormones and bigger than a house.”

  “You’re crazy, baby.” With a soft chuckle and slight shake of his head, he reached into the tub, and with a washcloth lathered in my favorite body wash, started gently washing my propped-up feet.

  “Levi Fox, you know, you fucking know, you should never call a pregnant woman crazy. That is just a recipe for an all-out war.”

  He grinned. “You’re my favorite kind of crazy. That better?”

  “Not really.”

  He rolled his eyes. “I love your crazy, baby. And I love your body. I’ve never seen you more fucking beautiful than you are right now.”

  I puffed out an annoyed breath. “My ankles are swollen. My stomach is huge. And my face is getting fatter by the day. So, I call bullshit on your sweet, but very big fucking lies.”

  I was nearing my third trimester. My belly felt enormous—because, hello, two freaking babies are growing inside of me. My boobs were bigger than my head.

  And, honestly, I had no clue what my ass looked like. But one could only assume, if it was growing like the front half of my body, it had gained more than a few inches on its already generous curves.

  I was pregnant.

  So. Fucking. Pregnant.

  He locked his gaze with mine. “Just deal with it, baby. You’re the most beautiful woman in the whole goddamn world to me.”

  “Pffft. That’s because you’re biased.”

  “Now, that is the truth. But is me being biased a bad thing?” he questioned, and he massaged the cotton cloth across my feet.

  I shrugged. “I guess not.”

  “No, baby, it’s definitely not,” he said through a soft chuckle. “It means I’m hopelessly, undeniably, without a fucking doubt, in love with you.”

  This man, sometimes he could say the sweetest, most thoughtful fucking things.

  And I couldn’t not smile at his words.

  “Love me forever?” I asked and he smiled.

  “Always.”

  The cotton cloth brushed across the arch of my right foot, and I giggled from the ticklish sensations that ran across my skin.

  Levi smirked and looked up at me from beneath his lashes. “Ticklish?”

  “Just a little.”

  “I’m glad you finally agreed to sit your little ass down and rest. You needed it,” he said and started to move the washcloth up to my calves, alternating both legs with a gentle massage and soft scrub. “And I know you don’t want to hear this, but over the next few months, until our babies are born, you’re going to have to start taking it easy.”

  “I know.” I sighed. “It’s just so hard. There are so many things I want to make sure get done before they get here and…” I paused and rubbed both hands across my belly. “I just want everything to be perfect.”

  Over the past few weeks, I had really started to notice the physical restrictions of carrying twins. And even though I kind of hated to admit it, Levi was right. I couldn’t keep going full throttle. I couldn’t stay on my feet for hours on end without much of a break. I had to cut it back a little.

  “It will be,” he said. “But how about you focus more on making the list of things you want done, and let me handle the actual work part of it, okay?”

  “Okay.”

  I knew, more than anyone probably, that Levi Fox had a cold side to him.

  He could be a Grade A asshole.

  But once you peeled past his layers of undeserving guilt and pain and avoidance, he was just a beautiful man with a big fucking heart.

  When he loved someone, he loved them fiercely. And it was moments like these, sitting in the bath watching Levi take care of me, that I realized just how far we’d come.

  From fighting to kissing to fighting and kissing.

  From heartbreak and turmoil to love and adoration.

  From absolute devastation to tiny miracles.

  Somehow, someway, we’d managed to get here.

  I never used to believe in destiny or fate, but the way Levi’s and my stars had miraculously aligned, it was hard not to believe there was some other, supernatural force pulling us together.

  While Levi washed my legs, I leaned my head back on the edge of the tub and just let my muscles relax. God, it felt so good. The way his hands moved up and down my legs, massaging all of the spots that ached and throbbed from our busy day of unpacking.

  I hadn’t realized how much I’d needed this bath until right now.

  And right on cue, both babies started to move inside my belly.

  Bedtime, naptime, basically, any time I was trying to rest or relax, that was when our little chickadees decided to throw a party.

  Kicks to the ribs.

  Jabs to my bladder.

  Two active babies and my uterus might as well have been a UFC arena.

  You named it, I felt it. And sometimes, I felt it so hard I literally peed myself.

  “Oh!” I yelped when I felt one especially powerful punch to my side.

  Luckily, this wasn’t one of those accidental piss scenarios.

  Just pain. Sha
rp, stabbing, shooting pain.

  Levi looked up, confusion and worry in his eyes, but I nodded down toward my now visibly moving belly.

  “The babies are moving like crazy,” I said. “It’s a good thing I already love them so much.”

  He chuckled softly and stared down at my belly. His blue eyes turned mesmerized by the rolling motions and little jabs appearing beneath my skin.

  “God, that’s amazing,” he whispered and reached out to rest both hands on my belly. “I can’t believe there’re two little lives inside there. Two tiny people that we made.”

  “I’m literally the miracle of life right now,” I teased, but as I watched him closely, loving on and smiling down at my belly, I couldn’t not smile.

  “I can’t wait to meet them.”

  “Me either.” My smile turned full-on face grin—eyes, cheeks, hell, even my ears probably joined in on the happy expression.

  “God, I’m one lucky bastard.”

  “This is true,” I teased again, but his eyes turned serious. And instantly, I knew what the next words out of his mouth were going to be.

  “Marry me, Ivy,” he whispered and placed soft kisses on my belly. “Pretty sure I already know your answer, but I’m still asking. So, Ivy Stone, will you marry me?”

  He’d been asking me nearly every day for the past few weeks or so, and every time, I said no. Not because I didn’t want to marry Levi.

  I did. I couldn’t see my future without him in it.

  I just didn’t want to get married right now, while I was waddling like a penguin and as big as a whale.

  Also, I didn’t want him to ask me out of obligation. Which was completely stupid, I knew, but I couldn’t help. Pregnancy made me a little bit irrational in my thought process. Way more fucking emotional than was my norm, that was for damn sure.

  “No,” I whispered back, and he just grinned. “I will marry you. Someday soon. Someday real soon. But not right now, not when I’m pregnant.”

  “So…no?”

  “Nope.” I shook my head and slid farther into the water, letting it block out the sounds around me.

  Levi stared down at me, smiling like a loon. “You’re mean,” he said, but it was mostly muffled.

  I just giggled, and eventually, I slid my head back out of the water so I could actually hear him.

  “You won’t even accept an engagement ring?”

  “Nope.”

  “God, you’re stubborn,” he said, still grinning.

  “We don’t need an engagement,” I explained. “Once the babies are born, I give you full freedom to whisk me away somewhere private, just the two of us, so we can get married.”

  “Promise?”

  “Promise.”

  “I’m holding you to this, my soon-to-be wife.”

  I winked. “I hope you do, my soon-to-be husband.”

  Levi leaned forward and pressed a soft kiss to my lips, and I pretty much melted.

  God, whenever he kissed me, it was like my brain lit on fire and the warmth spread like wildfire throughout my entire body.

  I would spend the rest of my life kissing this man, of that I was certain.

  October 3rd, 2016

  While Ivy had conducted numerous phone calls with her agent and publicist and a bunch of other Hollywood types I didn’t understand, I’d been painting the nursery. She’d chosen the paint color, and to be honest, to me, it just looked like we were repainting the walls white. But if you asked Ivy, she’d adamantly disagree and tell you it wasn’t white; it was the perfect shade of cream. Warm, cozy, baby nursery cream.

  I couldn’t tell the difference, but I knew when to pick my battles with a pregnant Ivy.

  And questioning the color of the nursery wasn’t worth the risk to my balls.

  So, I’d painted all morning and kept my mouth shut.

  Once I cleaned off the brushes in the utility sink near the garage, I walked into the kitchen to find Ivy standing near the stove.

  “Hungry?” she asked as I sat down on one of the barstools near the island.

  “You making lunch?”

  “Yep.” She reached down to the lower cabinet to pull out a pan, and instantly, I knew what our lunch would most likely entail.

  Some sort of variation of eggs. Since eggs were a food she’d been eating daily for years, I’d have thought she wouldn’t be able to take her obsession with them much further. But I’d been wrong. Her pregnancy diet was like her regular diet on steroids, and we ate fucking eggs all the goddamn time.

  Scrambled. Over easy. Fried. Hard boiled. In an omelet. Breakfast, lunch, and dinner.

  She had a few other foods that made appearances from time to time—green pepper, string cheese, tortillas—but they were nothing more than secondary characters in a play about eggs.

  None of it made sense, but I just rolled with it.

  “What are you making?” I asked, even though I already knew the answer.

  She walked over to the fridge and started pulling out items and setting them on the counter beside her. First, the carton of eggs. Then, a bag of shredded cheddar cheese and a green pepper. And the million-dollar prize goes to? Levi Fox.

  “What did you say?” she questioned once she’d gathered everything she needed to make an omelet.

  “Well…” I paused and grinned. “I started to ask what you’re making, but I’m pretty sure I have that figured out now.” I nodded down toward the items she’d rearranged near the stove on the kitchen island.

  She looked down, and a smile crested her pretty cheeks. “Am I that transparent?”

  “Just a little bit.”

  “Apparently, pregnancy makes me a creature of habit,” she responded and switched on the stove.

  “Yeah, but in your defense, eggs were already your thing before.”

  “Could you imagine if these babies didn’t like eggs?” she questioned, and her eyes widened in shock. “What in the hell would I have done for nine months?”

  “Eat chicken,” I teased, and her lips turned down into a scowl.

  “Ew.” She grimaced. “For the love of God, don’t even talk about chicken unless you want me to hurl across the kitchen.”

  I grinned, and she lifted her right hand to flip me off, before refocusing her gaze on the task at hand. Eggs.

  With a crack of four shells, she filled a small white bowl with the egg whites and yolks. But after she added the milk and started to whisk it all together, I noticed that her free hand moved to her lower back. She rubbed and pressed against a spot I assumed was tender, and that was when I decided to hop up from my barstool and take over.

  “Why don’t you go sit down, and I’ll finish this?” I questioned, but it wasn’t really a question since I would not take no for an answer.

  “I’m fine, Levi,” she said, voice one hundred percent annoyed, but when her brow pinched together in discomfort, I placed my hand to her belly and looked down at her in concern.

  “Are you okay?”

  She nodded. “I’m fine. Promise. Just a little uncomfortable.”

  “What do you mean by a little uncomfortable?”

  “Because I’m carrying around two freaking babies,” she retorted, her tone all sass.

  “Are you having contractions?”

  “No,” she refuted, but I wasn’t all that convinced.

  But what in the hell did I know? I wasn’t an expert in pregnancies. Especially, a multiples pregnancy.

  “Go sit down, and I’ll finish lunch.”

  “But—”

  “That wasn’t a question, baby.”

  The free hand to her back moved to her hip. “Are you bossing me around?”

  “Only because I’m worried about you.”

  She groaned and handed me the whisk. “God, you’re such a caveman sometimes.”

  I kissed the top of her nose and grinned. “For you, yes.”

  But she didn’t even make it to the kitchen table before she paused and gripped her belly.

  “Ivy?”
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br />   She waved me off with a hand. “I’m fine,” she said, but her face said otherwise. Her lips were pursed, and her face was tight with discomfort.

  “You don’t look fine,” I said and set down the whisk to walk over toward her. With gentle hands, I guided her toward the chair and urged her to sit down.

  Ivy sighed and leaned her back against the chair, but a few moments later, she hunched over slightly, and her face turned pained.

  “Baby, I don’t think this is normal.”

  She shook her head. “I don’t think so either.”

  “You want me to call the doctor?”

  She nodded. “Yes.”

  I didn’t waste any time and snagged her phone off the counter. I scrolled through her list of contacts, and the instant I spotted Dr. Morrow, the obstetrician she’d found as soon as we’d moved to town thanks to a recommendation from Dr. Macintosh, I tapped the screen to call.

  With the phone pressed to my ear, I looked over at Ivy and saw her situation hadn’t gotten any better. She groaned and held her belly tightly again, her lips pursed as she breathed through the pain.

  My heart dropped at the sight of it.

  Fucking hell, the mere idea of something going wrong during Ivy’s pregnancy had my chest growing tight with anxiety.

  “Dr. Morrow,” the doctor greeted on the third ring.

  “Hey, Dr. Morrow. This is Levi Fox, and I’m calling because Ivy is having a lot of discomfort. It seems like she’s having contractions.”

  “Are they painful enough that she has to breathe through them?”

  “Yeah.”

  “And how long has she been having them?” she asked, and I looked at Ivy.

  “How long have you been having contractions, Ivy?”

  “I don’t know.” She shrugged and groaned again. “A few hours or so, I think. But they just recently got this painful.”

  Jesus Christ. A few hours? Even though I wanted to tell her she shouldn’t have waited so damn long to tell me, I kept my mouth shut and focused on the task at hand.

  “She said it’s been a few hours,” I told the doctor.

  “And just remind me, is Ivy seven or eight months along?”

  “She’s just a little over seven months.”

  “I want you to go ahead and come to the hospital. I’m here now doing a delivery, and I can check Ivy out and make sure everything is okay.”