by Keke Renée
“Look at my nephew sharing your genes. His godfather’s going to have to teach him about the ladies,” EJ joked, and Elina scoffed, holding Julian III closer to her chest.
“My baby will not turn into a womanizer like you.”
“Did you say the same thing to your husband?” he replied, and Missy slapped him on the back of his head.
“Missy, I thought you were on my side,” EJ said, rubbing the sting away.
“Leave my nephew out of your mess. Let me hold him,” Missy said.
“You look like you’re ready to pop,” Elina said, reaching out to rub her stomach.
“I’m seven months now. I feel like this kid is going to run me crazy,” Missy said.
“He takes after his daddy,” EJ taunted.
Missy rolled her eyes and stuck out her tongue. He went to kiss her, and she curved away from him. Our baby giggled at his confused facial expression.
Elina worked at her studio at least four days a week and hired more dancers to teach, so she could spend more time with us as a family. Her parents took the baby on the weekends. They loved being grandparents and wanted to keep him more, but Elina put a stop to that early on.
Waking up to Elina and Junior’s smiles everyday made my chest swell in excitement, and I was overjoyed to know that I had a great responsibility on my hands to teach my son how to be a man and go after his dreams.
I also spent every day with the woman I loved and made sure that I showed her how much she meant to me—and not just with money all the time. The simple things, like taking a walk in the park or going for a drive, always brought a smile to Turtle’s face. She even still brought Honey out once in a blue moon, whenever the baby wasn’t home.
“What are you thinking about?” Elina hugged me around the waist.
“You.” I caressed a palm up and down her back.
“What about me?” She stood on her tiptoes to kiss me on the lips.
“How much I appreciate you giving me a great gift while carrying my son.”
“Our son.”
I laughed, looking around the room as everyone carried on conversations. I tapped her on the butt.
“Yes, our son, hermosa.” She grinned, giggling as I whispered more sweet words in her ear.
“You better stop before I have another baby,” she teased, her eyes fading into low slits. I regretted not getting a quickie in at the house before we left. I pulled her into the kitchen to talk since everyone was in the living room or outside next to the grill.
“A little girl with your personality, spirit.”
“That could be arranged,” she said.
“What are you saying?”
“I’m saying you’re going to be a daddy again, Mr. Mayor,” she said.
My eyebrows rose in shock.
“How far along are you? When did you know?”
“Well, I don’t know what we’re having. But hopefully, it’s a girl. I’m only eight weeks, though.”
“Who else knows this?”
“Just you. I was waiting until I passed the first trimester before telling anyone else.”
“I agree. The way this campaign was set up, you had to be exhausted with all the different stops. You should have told me.” I pressed a kiss on her cheek.
“As the campaign was heating up, I didn’t want to distract you. So, I kept it to myself.”
“We promised each other no more keeping secrets,” I argued.
“Yes, sir.” She poked her lip out, crossing her arms around her waist.
“Come here.” I pulled her into my chest, slid my tongue into her mouth, and cupped her chin as she wrapped her arms around my neck.
“As much as I love my nephew, I’d prefer you not make another one in my kitchen, man,” EJ commented. We pulled apart, and he opened the fridge, grabbing a tray of wrapped veggies.
“Too late, bro. She’s already pregnant with your niece or nephew,” I responded.
He smiled, reaching out to hug his sister and kiss her on the forehead. I prayed and hoped our kids would have the same bond as they did growing up. EJ had bought the house a year ago, in the same neighborhood we lived in, so our kids could be close.
EJ walked out with Elina to the backyard. I followed them closely and saw our son running in a circle around Missy. The backyard was crowded; some kids were in the pool, and some were jumping in the bouncy house. Their grandparents laughed as my son fell in the grass, trying to keep up with the older kids. Elina grabbed a plate of food from EJ to feed Junior. I strolled over to the covered bench and sat next to her as she cut up the meat.
“He’s getting bigger and bigger every day,” Missy said.
Elina nodded, passing Junior a French fry.
“Extremely independent and spoiled by his father,” Elina said, kissing Junior’s hand.
“My boy takes after his father.”
“He does, especially with making a mess after eating,” Elina joked.
“Turtle, you’re the last person to talk about making a mess. How many times have I woken up to your makeup in the bathroom?”
“That’s different.”
“I don’t think you’ve told me where the Turtle name came from,” Missy stated, sipping on her iced tea.
“I hate that nickname, but he refuses to call me something else.”
“I could, but it might not be appropriate to say it in front of your family,” I whispered near her ear, and she giggled.
“Elina’s ass was slow as hell in doing anything, either getting ready for school in the morning, or trying to keep up with me and Julian when she got into high school,” EJ explained.
“Well, you didn’t say that last night when Junior went to bed early, and Honey showed up.” Elina smirked, and I grunted, shifting my pants as my man stiffened.
“How are things going now that you’re the mayor?” Missy asked.
“Busy, but we make it work.” I rubbed her shoulder.
“I’m happy for you two,” Missy replied.
TWO HOURS LATER, WE were back home. I bathed my son and put him to bed, then walked into our bedroom and saw Elina lying in bed. She was wearing my t-shirt—and nothing else. I shut the door, locked it, and stood in front of the dresser, staring at the woman I get to call my wife every day.
“What are you thinking about?” she asked.
“Thinking about how glad I am to have you as my wife.” I moved off and headed toward her in bed.
“That makes two of us. You love me unconditionally and didn’t run away like other guys would have, knowing my past.”
I picked up her wrist and admired her wedding ring.
“You see this?”
“Yes.”
“It means you got me, mi amor.”
“I like it when you talk like that.” She chuckled.
“Hmm, well, let me see what other words I can come up with as I make love to my wife,” I said as I hovered over her body and pressed a kiss to her lips.
The End
About the Author
A Tennessee native and California dreamer, author KeKe Renée strives to continue her passion of writing short-story romances in genres ranging from erotic to paranormal and women’s fiction.
304 Publishing Company
WE SHOWCASE AUTHORS of African American, interracial, women’s fiction, urban romance, erotic, and contemporary romance novels, along with thriller, suspense, poetry, beauty, and style books.
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Catalogue of Releases by Keke Renée
Wet Heat (Wet Heat Series, Book 1)
Every Time We Touch: A Novelette (Wet Heat Series, Book 2)
His Peace, Her Pleasure
Baby, It’s Cold Outside
Love Don’t Live Here Anymore (Vanessa/Andrew, Book 1)
Love Don’t Live Here Anymore (Isabella/Andrew, Book 2)
One Night Only: A Novelette (Love by Design, Book 1)
Cassian and Savannah (Love by Design, Book 2)
Deidra’s Love (Love by Design, Book 3)
Protecting Bria (Special Force Operation Alphas)
Haven
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