“You’re more relaxed this time around,” I said. “This baby is being good to you.”
“They all have been good to me,” she rebutted. She would never ever say otherwise. Rim loved all our kids exactly the same. Fiercely.
I chuckled. “I know, but this one is different.”
“Fourth time’s a charm?” she quipped.
I grinned. Four pregnancies. This would be our fourth child (but the third one we would get to raise; we both still counted Evie because she was our first and we would always love her). “Maybe it is a girl,” I murmured. “Maybe that’s why you’re more relaxed.”
“Maybe,” she said, caressing her belly again. “Or maybe I’m just more confident my body can do this.”
My heart squeezed a little. Hearing those words from her felt like the winning touchdown in a rough game. Some days I doubted I would ever hear them. The loss of our first child was something Rim still carried with her, still ghosted in the back of her head with every new baby we made together.
“You can,” I murmured, leaning down to put my forehead against hers. “I’m so damn proud of you, baby. I love you so much.”
She caressed the side of my face with her hand. “I’m proud of you, too, Romeo. I thought I won the lottery when I got you, but it keeps getting better. You keep giving me more of you.”
I kissed her forehead and pulled back. “Baby, I’ll give you as many babies as you want. You know that.”
My power to say no to this woman was practically whittled down to nothing. Hell, we had two sons, five dogs (counting Ivy’s Prada), a cat, and a new baby on the way. Our house was chaos. I loved every fucking second of it.
“We need to go in. We’re going to be late!” she said, glancing at the dash.
I got out and jogged around the side of the Cat and grabbed the door as she pushed it open. Her tiny frame pushed out of the sports car and stood. I didn’t move back, so her body brushed against mine when she stepped forward and I slammed the door behind her.
Rim tugged at the white, gauzy top that floated around her belly, then surrendered her hand to mine.
“So?” she asked as we walked into the building. “What do you think? Boy or girl?”
We were finding out the gender of the baby today during her ultrasound. Something else that was different about this pregnancy. Rim refused to find out with our sons. They were both surprises on the day they arrived.
I was surprised when she told me she wanted to find out. But I went with it. Like I said, I hardly ever refuse my wife. She was calmer with this baby, more peaceful. She seemed content and unafraid the baby would be taken like Evie.
She glowed from within—something she always did, pregnant or not—but this time, the glow was a little brighter. I was drawn to her like a moth to a flame. I was also grateful. So fucking grateful she could enjoy this pregnancy without worrying herself near to death.
“I don’t know, Rim. I make some pretty good sons,” I said.
She laughed. “I can’t argue with that. Blue and Asher are definitely spitting images of their daddy.”
I grunted with pride. She was right. Both of them had blond hair and blue eyes. Both of them got away with everything and anything in our house. Add B’s son Jax into the mix, and we had three strong-willed and curious boys running around all the time.
The only one in our entire family that could keep them in line was Nova.
Their teenage years were definitely going to be interesting.
A five-year-old, two three-year-olds, and Asher who was two. In just a few short months, we’d have another one.
“How would you feel about a girl?” I asked Rim, my voice hushed as we went through the long hallway of the office.
She was quiet a moment. Her head lifted and her eyes met mine. The thought of a girl was always slightly bittersweet because of Evie. “I think I would like that.”
The door to the doctor’s office came into view, and I reached around my wife to pull it open.
Girl or boy, it really didn’t matter. As long as he or she was healthy, neither of us would care.
I had to admit, though, I was kinda excited to find out.
# # #
Rimmel
The jelly stuff they squirted on my showing belly was cold. I recoiled from it, and Romeo frowned but then instantly turned accusing eyes toward the tech.
I grabbed his hand and squeezed. He glanced at me, and I shook my head.
I could handle cold jelly. He didn’t need to make a scene.
The years didn’t mellow Romeo’s protective nature toward me. If anything, he got worse and worse. Every time I thought there was no way he could be more overprotective, he went and proved me wrong.
“Are you wanting to know the sex this time?” the tech asked us, a woman in her late twenties and dressed in green scrubs.
I glanced at Romeo and nodded.
“Yep,” he answered. “Our first time finding out this way.”
“How exciting!” she said and pressed the end of the wand to my lower belly. I showed a lot faster this time around. My stomach was already round and popped out. It was because this was baby number three; my stomach muscles weren’t as tight as before.
Either that or this baby was going to be gigantic.
Glancing over at Romeo, I grimaced. Having a gigantic baby wasn’t exactly out of the realm of possibility. After all, his daddy was a football god.
“You okay, Smalls?” he asked, concern darkening his eyes. The chair he was in made a scraping sound against the floor as he scooted closer to the bed I was reclined on.
“I’m good.” I promised. “Just hoping this baby isn’t a giant like his daddy.”
He laughed.
The sound of the baby’s rapid heartbeat filled the room. Tears filled my eyes and happiness squeezed my heart. “There he is!” I said, reaching out for Romeo’s hand. His closed around mine instantly, and his lips pressed against the back.
“The heartbeat is nice and strong,” the tech told us. “Sounds perfect.”
“How’s the baby?” I asked, familiar worry and anxiety creeping into my joy. Romeo was right when he pointed out I seemed different this pregnancy. I was more relaxed, but that didn’t mean I still didn’t worry.
“Everything is looking wonderful,” she said, staring at the screen. “See for yourself.” She turned the monitor toward us.
The image of our child greeted us. “Oh,” I said, tears spilling over my cheeks. “So beautiful.”
Romeo was quiet, so I forced my eyes away from the image to glance at him. “Romeo?”
He was staring at the screen, love in his eyes. “She’s perfect.”
“She?” I said, surprise in my voice. It was the first time Romeo had ever called this baby a she. With two sons at home, we sort of got used to calling the baby a he.
“That’s a baby girl, Rim,” he said, still staring at the monitor. “I just know it. She’s just like you.”
“Like me?” I said, turning back toward the baby. “You can’t possibly know that.”
He made a sound. “Oh, I know. That baby right there has an angelic heart, just like you. I can feel it.”
That might have been the sweetest thing he’d ever said to me, and Romeo was very good with words.
I glanced at the technician. “Can you tell the sex?”
She smiled and nodded. “He’s right. It’s a girl.”
Romeo laughed. A happy laugh filled with so much affection.
I burst into tears. Not the silent ones I’d cried earlier, but the sobby kind that made a girl look like a mess.
“Rim,” Romeo said, standing from his chair and leaning over me. “Baby, it’s okay.”
My arms wound around him, and I pulled him in so I could bury my face in his neck. “You gave me another baby girl,” I whispered. “Another daughter.”
Romeo kissed the side of my head, then pulled back to wipe the tears off my face. “Are you happy?”
“So happy.”
“You two are about a cute as they come,” the tech said, and we both looked up. She was standing there with the wand in her hand, waiting. “But how about we get some more pictures of that little girl?”
“Oh yes!” I gasped, pushing Romeo back. “I want extra pictures!”
“Well, the standard—” she began to say, but Romeo cut her off, his voice unforgiving.
“I don’t care about the standard. Print my wife extra pictures. I’ll pay for them.”
In the end, I got my pictures. Fifteen of them. And we got to see every inch of our daughter the ultrasound could capture.
She looked perfectly healthy, and so did the parts of my body that cradled her.
Afterward, Romeo took me to get a strawberry milkshake, my newest craving.
“Maybe we should call her strawberry,” Romeo quipped with amusement as I sucked it through the straw and made noises of appreciation.
I released the straw and laid my head against his shoulder. His arm, thrown across the back of the booth we were seated in, dropped down and held me tightly.
“I want to name her London.”
I felt his stare. “You already have a name?”
I smiled and nodded. “London Rose Anderson.”
“London, like the place?” he said thoughtfully.
“My favorite place we’ve been. That city was so romantic. Do you remember those nights we spent there?”
“Oh, baby, those are nights I won’t ever forget,” he half growled.
I smiled. “Rose was my mother’s middle name.”
“London Rose is beautiful, Rim. It’s perfect.”
“Romeo?” I asked, tilting my head back to stare up at him. “Did you see on the monitor it was a girl before the tech told us? Is that how you knew?”
He shook his head adamantly, the overly long blond hair flopping over his ears. I stared as he brought his free hand up and rubbed over the scruff on his jaw. Over the years, he got in the habit of not shaving so much during the off season.
It was sexy.
In fact, Romeo just seemed to increase in sex appeal the older he got. His athletic body was honed, his face seemed more carved out, and the scruff made his jaw even more square. And his confidence… it literally oozed from every pore, even when he slept.
He was a man totally at ease in his skin, in his life, and it showed.
Women still camped out in front of the stadium, in the stands at games, hell, even outside his hotel rooms. I didn’t like it. Who would? But I knew those women didn’t matter. They had a better chance at meeting Santa Claus than they did at even getting a second of Romeo’s attention.
“I told you,” he said, answering my question. “I felt it.” His hand went to my stomach and caressed. “I can already feel her heart. She’s just like you, Rim. She’s an angel.”
“Someone already has her daddy wound around her finger.” My heart sang with love.
“My baby girl,” he mused. “A mini of her mother, the woman who literally owns every beat of my heart.” His blue eyes blinked, refocusing on mine. “Oh, I’m totally wrapped.”
“I love you,” I whispered, tears filling my eyes again.
He kissed me softly. “Finish your milkshake, Smalls.”
“You think Trent and Drew are okay?” I asked as I sipped.
Romeo laughed. “I don’t know, baby. The last time they watched the boys, it took Drew three days to put his tools back in the right place.”
I laughed.
Our little boys were naughty. But oh, they were so sweet.
“I want a few more minutes alone with you before we go save them,” Romeo told me, and I snuggled into his side again.
Moments alone with Romeo were a lot harder to come by these days. Really, though, it didn’t matter because any moment I was with him was special.
The sound of his phone vibrating in the pocket of his jeans made me groan. “I hope Asher didn’t throw something else in the toilet.” I half laughed.
Romeo laughed as he dug the phone out of his pocket. “That boy acts like Braeden.”
My half laugh blossomed into a full one.
“Speaking of,” Romeo murmured, then answered the call. “B, what’s up?”
He listened for a moment, then replied. “Everything’s good. We stopped to get a milkshake.” He chuckled. “You know it.”
I felt my eyes narrow. B was probably making fun of me for my newest craving. What a butthead.
Romeo’s eyes slid to mine. Then he sighed. He pressed the phone against my ear. “B wants to say hi.”
“Baby sis!” His voice boomed into my ear. “How ya feeling after the appointment?”
I smiled. “Hey, BBFL. I’m good. Baby looks great.”
“You find out if we’re getting another boy?”
“Yep, we found out this time.”
“Well!” he demanded when I didn’t offer any more information.
“Well, we’ll tell you when we get home.”
“That’s cold, sis. Treating your brother that way.”
I laughed.
“I’m glad everything’s good. Just wanted to hear it from you.”
“Love you,” I told him.
B was almost as overprotective of me as Romeo, especially when I was pregnant. All the guys in our family were. They were a bunch of cavemen. Still, it was sweet that B would call to make sure I was okay after our appointment. He was a good big brother.
“Times two,” he replied, and Romeo pulled the phone back.
“You convinced?” he rumbled into the line. Whatever B said made him grunt.
He was silent a few minutes longer. I felt his gaze come down to me. I swallowed some of the sweet treat and glanced up. His eyes were intense.
“I thought that was later this week?” he spoke. After a pause, he said, “Totally done?”
I listened to him exchange a few more words with B. Then he said, “Tell them to keep their drawers on.”
Well, that was odd. Who was trying to take off their pants?
“Yeah, we’re on our way.” His eyes moved to me again, then away. “I’ll talk to her.”
The call ended, and I set the milkshake aside and poked him in the stomach. “What was that about?”
Romeo hesitated, then tugged on my side braid again. His blue eyes held a note of wariness as he gazed down. “The pool.”
I made a face.
The pool.
# # #
Romeo
We built our family compound with a lot of bells and whistles and a lot of extra shit, like the giant stone wall surrounding it to protect our family from the vultures also known as the press.
There was one thing, though, our sprawling compound never had. A pool.
The fact my wife found her mother face down in her swimming pool when she was just a child, the pool water pink from all the blood, was certainly more than enough reason that our family home not contain the one thing Rimmel feared.
There was a flaw with that logic, though. One that became apparent the older all the kids became.
Not having a pool—not exposing our children to water and water safety—was partly irresponsible. It was sort of like inviting a terrible accident. My kids, niece, and nephew needed to know how to swim. How to be safe around water.
And hell, having a pool was fun. If you weren’t frightened of it, that is.
When spring blossomed here in Maryland, the subject of a pool came up, from the mouth of our five-year-old niece Nova. At first, I rebuffed it (of course, doing so gently) because I wasn’t about to put my wife in that kind of position, seeing her uncomfortable in her own home.
I still remembered the way her eyes would skirt to the pool and then away when I lived in the pool house at my parents’. I recalled easily the night she fell in the very same pool and sank like a rock because fear had frozen her limbs.
Everyone in the house understood her reasons for hating the water, and no one ever questioned if we would ever have a pool. It
just was what it was.
Ivy promised Nova she’d get a membership at the country club and take her swimming there in the summer.
It should have been the end of the conversation.
Not to Rim.
A few days later, Rim called a family meeting. Frankly, I was slightly offended. Family meetings were my thing to call. But I got over it pretty fucking fast when she stood up in front of our gathered family, looking all cute with her little belly and messy hair.
Rimmel announced she wanted to get a pool. Here. On the compound.
I vetoed that shit instantly. Braeden, Trent, and Drew were about two seconds behind me. Rim had been through enough in life already. This wasn’t something that was necessary, and there was no point in making it hard on her.
Rimmel plopped in my lap and changed my mind. All our minds.
“I can’t project my fears onto our kids. I won’t do it. It’s not fair of me to hold them back because of what happened to me.”
“We can take them to the club.” I argued.
“Where the press can find us? Where people in town can gossip about us? Where we have to pack the car and drive across town, with four little ones… soon to be five?” Rimmel shook her head adamantly. “I’m exhausted just thinking about it.”
“Me, too.” Ivy agreed.
“It’s safer if they learn how to swim, if they enjoy the water. I don’t want them to be like me.”
“And what about you, Rim?” I pressed. “What about your feelings?”
“Maybe it’s time I learned to conquer my fear.”
Damn if she didn’t impress me. This woman knocked my socks off again and again. She was utterly remarkable and selfless.
“I don’t know.” Trent spoke up. “It’s easy to say… but looking at that pool every day is something else.”
I nodded in agreement.
“I was thinking we could just put it farther away from the house,” Rim replied. “Maybe more toward Trent and Drew’s. That way it won’t be so close, but it will be close enough to walk the kids down to it.”
“We could use that large field across from your house!” Ivy said, glancing at Trent and Drew.
#HookUp (Hashtag Series Bonus Scenes) Page 6