“Show them the bed you got her.” Remy looked at her with a sly smile. “Check this out.”
Finn’s grumbling sigh and the expression on his face when he held up a pink doggie bed with white boa feathers around the top made her kind of like the guy. Someone who went to such lengths for a pet couldn’t be all bad.
Stretching a kink from her back, she stood and tried to walk it off.
“You look tired,” Jace murmured when she passed by. “Maybe we should go.”
She turned her head to respond and caught a glimpse of herself in a wall mirror. What she saw was a pregnant woman with horrible posture.
“Come on, Beans,” Jace insisted when he came to her side. “Let’s get you home.” He stroked her belly and in a concerned voice asked how Zippy was doing.
Her nose crinkled, and she forced a small smile. “He’s quiet. We’re in the home stretch now. Could be any day.”
He studied her closely. She liked the way he smelled, so while he gauged her status, she inhaled his scent.
His mouth twitched. “Soap and water.”
Sophie knew she was busted and didn’t try to dodge the obvious. “No way.”
“Way,” he replied with a lopsided, adorable grin.
When a warm blush spread from her neck onto her cheeks, he caressed her face with his fingers. She raised her chin defensively only to discover warmth in his gaze and a smile that sent her pulse racing.
He leaned slightly, yet the temptation to do the same confused her. His breath on her face when he spoke left her fighting a mighty battle of restraint.
“I’m going to kiss you, Sophia. I’m telling you now so you know every second until I leave you at your door that I intend to taste you tonight.”
She. Was. Speechless.
Her jaw dropped, and she gazed helplessly into his eyes. The gold sparkles were back. She wanted to fall into the seductive deep sable.
“Jace,” Remy called out. “You want some of this casserole? We can put it in a container. Sophie. You interested?”
Answering in a Morse code of blinks and tiny headshakes, she declined and anxiously played with the long braid of her hair. The glow of Jace’s smile warmed her insides. He snatched the long braid from her fingers and gave a gentle tug.
“You’ve wrecked me, Beans.”
The most horrifying giggle bounced off her tongue, and a molten hot flush crept up her face. She was ready to run from the room in embarrassment, but he successfully disarmed the impulse with a grinning wink. They shared a brief smile before being drawn into a humorous good-bye with Finn, Remy, and FiFi.
At the door to the condo, they stopped, and Jace said something to Remy. Sophie reached for her phone at that moment with an amused snicker. She took a picture for posterity because she wanted everyone to get a look at Mr. Finn O’Brien with his impressive muscles cuddling a tiny ball of fur in one hand with his arm slung around Remy’s neck while she completely ignored him.
No closer to figuring out their relationship—was it a sham or a love match—she resigned herself to not knowing. For now.
Jace took her hand as they walked away and twined his fingers with hers. Instead of exhaustively questioning every little thing, Sophie took a different approach and let herself enjoy the experience.
She liked holding his hand. He had a firm grip that she instantly trusted. The feeling as his big fingers curled around her smaller ones drew her like a magnet. He radiated an energy that was hard to ignore.
He hoisted her in a gentlemanly lift, helping her settle on the passenger seat of his truck. His gaze was a gentle caress as he carefully buckled her in and his manly hands on her body stoked a building fire.
After swinging behind the wheel and starting the growling monster of a vehicle, he shifted and turned his whole body. She searched his face and found herself glued to his gaze.
“You’re a beautiful woman, Sophie. And you need to be told that all the time.”
He raked her pregnant body with his eyes. “Très tentant,” he murmured in his sexy French accent. “Very tempting.”
She felt like he was memorizing her with his eyes. Waves of excitement swirled inside her heart.
This was usually the moment when she ran. But she wasn’t going to do that anymore.
“Please don’t toy with me, Jace. I’m not in a place where my emotions are safe if all you’re doing is having fun.”
He took her hand and kissed her knuckles. “No, chéri. Your emotions are completely safe with me. I’m aware of what I’m doing.”
“You got the memo about me being pregnant, right? Don’t men generally find that a turn-off?”
Jace laughed. The smoldering flames she saw in his eyes shocked her. “Sophia,” he tsked. “I find your decision to be a mother quite sexy.”
Happiness filled her. She felt carefree and buoyant. Pressing her hands to cheeks aflame with unspoken emotion, she lowered her eyes and bit her lip. How much should she tell him?
“I’ve never been in a significant relationship. No one has ever spoken to me like this before. I don’t know how to react.”
Something intense flared in his eyes at her admission. Then he slowly smiled, and her insides turned to liquid.
“Just be Sophia. The rest will take care of itself.”
He shifted into reverse and pulled from the parking lot. When they turned into the development to her parents’ house, she regretted that Finn lived so close to town.
The growling monster of a truck pulled into the driveway, and he cut the engine. For the first time ever, she wished she had her own place so she could invite a man in for coffee. Or French kissing—because she was pretty damn sure Jean-Claude Delacroix knew a thing or two about the matter.
Reminder to self, her inner voice snickered. Get off your butt and find a house. You’re too damn old to be still rooming with Mommy and Daddy.
“Beans,” Jace murmured.
She raised her eyes and searched his face.
“Who will be with you when Zippy arrives?”
Sophie’s head jerked, and she stared at him. What a strange question.
“Um, my mom. Combination of no one else,” she admitted with a shrug, “and my mother needing a diversion.”
He took her hand again and gently kissed it. “I want you to call me when it’s time, Sophia. I’d like to be there.”
She bowed her head to hide the elated smile that shot onto her face. He wanted to be there? Oh, my god. What’s happening?
“Why?” she asked.
The look on his face tugged at her heart. “Because.” That was all he said.
“Uh, okay but because why?”
He answered with his eyes, but since she wasn’t experienced in these things, she reminded herself not to let her imagination run wild. She already knew what happened in those circumstances.
And then, before she could press further, he cracked a joke. “Someone has to be ready to step in if you brain fart and try to name the kid Horatio or Napoleon.”
It required a firm chomp on her tongue to keep from laughing. “Actually,” she told him, “I’ve been leaning toward Marion.”
Jace blinked and bumped his brows together. Jesus. He thought she was serious!
“What? I thought we were having a boy.”
She let the we comment slide and tut-tutted her reply. “Don’t be a sexist moron. John Wayne’s birth name was Marion.”
“Yeah, and I bet he changed it ‘cause he was tired of having his butt kicked.”
Brushing invisible specks off her dress, she smirked and acted like he was too thick to make sense.
“And I believe that’s what made him the sexy alpha he was on film. A little struggle can go a long way.”
He had so many things on the tip of his tongue to say that Sophie laughed at his bewildered expression.
“Relax.” She chortled. “I’ve got this.”
He chuckled, shook his head, and mumbled as he hopped down from the truck and came to her door. The mut
tered observations about women made her smile.
He helped her down but didn’t release her when her feet were solidly on the ground.
“Soph, you’re not alone. Even though you’ve got this,” he said with distinct emphasis, “I’m going to have your back.”
Rattled by his choice of words, she gawked at him for a minute, and then he pressed her back against the side of the truck. The warmth of the metal sank into her bones.
She was aware of his body pressed to hers. A pulse beat in her throat before racing through her system. The attraction she felt was off the charts—he had a natural virility that destroyed her normal indifference to such things.
He moved slowly. She heard a husky whimper and recognized it as hers. His mouth touched hers—tentative at first. The sizzling contact upset her balance. When his tongue traced the fullness of her lips, she moaned and let the moment sweep her away.
At first, his kiss was unhurried, almost thoughtful. The delicious exploration of her lips caused shivers of awareness to break out in her senses.
Parting her lips more, she encouraged a deeper connection. The surprising gentleness gave way to something harder. He moved his mouth on hers, devouring everything she gave in return.
Sophie’s hands clutched his waist. She wanted to wrap her arms around him but stopped.
She wondered if he knew when her excitement swerved toward panic because the kiss lost its urgency and became sweetly hypnotic. She didn’t have any familiarity with good night kisses and powerful men with sensual lips.
The melding of their mouths turned to feather-touches as he quite masterfully steered them to a pulse-throbbing finish. As their lips separated, he took her face in his hands, and his mouth grazed her earlobe. She shivered.
Feeling his mouth next to her ear and the warmth of his breath made Sophie quiver.
“You tempt me in ways that confuse and bewitch, chéri.”
Oh! He was confused too?
Unprepared for his next move, she had a legitimate emotional meltdown when her face was released and he caressed her tummy with his big, strong hands.
“I’m jealous of this little guy,” he confessed with an arched brow.
“Why?” she breathlessly asked.
“Because you love him so freely. There’s no fear in your eyes.”
“Oh, Jace,” she whimpered in a half cry. She didn’t know what to say after that.
He kissed her forehead and smiled into her eyes. “I will earn your trust Sophia Camiña. Yours and Zippy’s.”
He didn’t wait for a reply and just took her hand to lead her to the front door. As they walked along, she wondered if her parents had witnessed their good night kiss. She smiled at the thought. For a brief second, she felt like a teenager again. A teenager getting giggly about a boy.
At the door, he turned into a long-suffering caretaker with an act that nearly put her on the porch with laughter. He wet his thumb and rubbed an imaginary dirt smudge off her cheek. Then he arranged her long, thick braid and swiped his hands across her shoulders. With a comical tug on the bottom of her dress, he sighed and lifted an eyebrow.
“You’ll pass Daddy muster, but I’m not sure about your mom.” He swept his thumb on her mouth and smirked. “These lips have a freshly kissed look. Ashleigh Marquez will not be fooled.”
He sounded pretty damn pleased with his bad self, so she play-punched his gut and pushed him away.
“Oh, I get it,” she teased. “This your way of flirting with my mom, isn’t it? She’s a definite MILF, I’ll give you that.”
He threw his head back and roared with laughter. “Pretty soon, she’ll be a”—he paused, and she saw his mind working out the acronym—“a GILF.”
The seductive smirk he subjected her to made Sophie grin like an idiot.
“Now, I will admit, an older woman has merits …” His warm chuckle wrapped around her heart and squeezed.
She smacked him for real this time. “Did you just call me old?”
With a shocking pat on her derriere, he pushed her toward the door.
“Until next time, Beans.”
He waited until her hand on the knob gave a little push and the door opened, and then with a gallant formal bow, he bid her adieu and strode to his truck.
Did she watch his sexy cowboy ass as he walked away?
Yes. Yes, she did.
28
Meghan woke to a sharp pain in her side. Groaning, she rolled awkwardly and fought with the covers until she was upright. Pushing hair away, her eyes immediately saw what was causing her distress. The children’s books Alex made a production out of reading to his baby humans every night. His two favorites—The Sword in the Stone and Beauty and the Beast. She’d kept to the ritual during his absence and must have fallen asleep while still holding the small storybooks.
With a deep sigh, she slumped into the mound of pillows against the headboard and looked around the bedroom. It felt so empty without her husband’s presence, and their bed was far too large. Her eyes drifted to the wadded-up t-shirt she slept with. The one she’d rescued from the hamper before Carmen did the laundry. It smelled of Alex, and she desperately needed the comfort of his scent, so she took it to bed with her every night and stuffed it into a drawer each morning—so it didn’t mistakenly end up in the wash.
She folded her hands over her enormous belly, and the first thing she noticed was how loose her wedding rings were. Another reminder that it was supposed be the other way around. She should be fat and swollen, not gaunt and fragile.
“Mornin’ sweeties,” she cooed. Her hands massaged both sides of her bump in big circles. Quickly glancing out the window, she told them what a glorious day it was. “Maybe later we’ll ride down the lane to visit Aunty Toto.”
Tori had been her rock through this whole ordeal. Well, she admitted, everyone had. Angie especially. But Tori had stepped up big time. It reminded her of the way Alex and Drae were with each other. One of them was always shining a light forward.
Rocking and rolling like a bottom-heavy wobbler, she eventually hauled her burden to the side of the bed and slid to her feet. Meghan missed Alex’s hand, helping and guiding. She went through the motions every day, but her heart cried a soulful lament around-the-clock. She was lost without him.
Leaving a trail of pajamas on her way to the bathroom, she tossed aside the cotton cami and wiggled out of the ghastly grandma panties she had no choice but to wear. The reflection in her vanity mirror as she passed showed how hugely pregnant she was.
Too damn tired to deal with her hair, she shoved the whole mass of curls into a shower cap and sat on the shower stool that Tori had forced on her. Meghan let the warm water ease her worries while she washed as best she could. Scowling at the state of her pedicure, she muttered dark oaths. Not being able to get at your feet for months wasn’t an old wives’ tale—that shit was for real.
When it was time to choose an outfit, she stared numbly at her wardrobe. She loved letting Alex pick her clothes. Sometimes, he was so adorably unaware that she’d laugh all day at what he chose. Other times, she got a thrill knowing he’d chosen something specifically for his pleasure. Her husband liked looking at her, and she basked in the warmth of his approval.
Without him, she simply didn’t care. What difference did it make what she put on? Grabbing the first thing her hand connected with, Meghan pulled out a clingy cotton t-shirt dress in a muted teal color and slid it over her head. Pulling it over her belly, she smoothed soft fabric over her hips. It fell to mid-calf and had side slits for easy movement.
Sliding her feet into a pair of common sense Skechers, she lifted the two hearts on a chain that symbolized her and Alex’s love and fastened it around her neck.
Instead of waddling down the back steps that would take her directly to the kitchen, she wandered down the long hallway and stopped at Abuelita’s portrait.
“Good morning, Dona Lucia. It’s a fine day.”
She fussed with the little bowl of flowers, picke
d out whatever looked saggy, and made a pile to throw away.
Meghan’s head lifted, and she stared into space. What was that? She thought she’d heard something. Not a whisper, more like a faint echo. She looked at the portrait. Abuelita’s eyes seemed brighter than normal. Was the old woman trying to tell her something?
A boxing match broke out in her crowded womb. She grunted when a series of kicks took her breath away. Tears filled her eyes—not from discomfort but because it felt like Alex’s great-grandmother and his unborn babies wanted her to know they were with her. That he’d never leave her alone. Even though he wasn’t physically there at her side, parts of him were.
She went down the main staircase with a firm grip on the railing and arrived at the bottom, winded and in need of a chair.
“Carmen?” she called out. “Are you around?”
“Meesus Meghan, what is it?” Carmen’s words arrived on the air before she did. Wiping her hands on a towel, she jerked a thumb back at the kitchen and said, “I give up with the pie crust. It’s just not my thing. Ria wins.” The defeated amusement in her voice made Meghan laugh. There wasn’t anything Carmen couldn’t do—except make a flaky pie crust. But that didn’t stop her from endlessly trying.
“I keep telling you,” she quipped. “Get one from the supermarket and pass it off as homemade.”
“Ria will know, and then she’d never let me live it up.”
“Live it down.” She chuckled.
“Whatever.” The older woman snickered. “What do you need?”
“Can you help me to the kitchen?” she asked with her hand out. “Feeling a bit top heavy today.”
Carmen’s happy laugh was just what she needed. Her joy at the impending arrival of the twins and Sophie’s baby had shaved ten years off her appearance. As a matter of fact, the whole Villa was full of happy, smiling people. Alex had created a wonderful world for the people he loved.
Everlasting (Family Justice Book 6) Page 43