by Gail, Allie
“Don’t listen to her. She knows how to cook, she just doesn’t like cleaning up afterwards.” With one hand, Louise pinches her stepdaughter’s cheeks so hard Leah’s mouth puckers out like a goldfish.
“Well, der is dat,” she admits through her fish lips.
“He’s really turning somersaults tonight, isn’t he?” Shane murmurs, still cradling my belly in his hands. He’s tuned everyone else out and is concentrating instead on feeling the baby kick. He loves that. I do too, except when it’s the middle of the night and the kid’s practicing his karate moves in there while I’m trying to sleep.
“Did you two ever decide on a name?”
“Are we reconvening in the kitchen?” Louise’s question is interrupted as Hank comes strolling in from the dining room, bearing a serving dish with only a few stray peas left in the bottom. He passes it to his wife before turning his attention to me. “Oh hey, almost slipped my mind – I understand congratulations are in order. I hear your book was quite a hit. Made the New York Times best sellers list, didn’t it?”
“That’s right!” Louise puts the dish in the sink and wipes her hands on a dishtowel before putting an arm around me for a quick hug. “Congratulations, sugar. That’s quite an accomplishment.”
“Thank you,” I smile. My latest book was released over a month ago and sales are still jumping. I’ve already started on the next one, but it could be a while before it’s out. Kristine Lane may be taking a hiatus so her alter ego can focus on mommy duties.
“So, have you decided on a name?”
“We’re thinking of Jeremy Elliott.” Shane winks at me and I slip my hand in his, trying not to cringe against the nagging discomfort in my middle. My stomach is cramping again. A little stronger this time.
On second thought, that cake and ice cream doesn’t sound so good after all.
Suddenly noticing the clock on the wall, Leah gestures at it with her thumb. “Hey you guys, I think we better get a move on. Look at the time. Dessert might have to wait ’til later.”
We have plans to go to the synchronous firefly viewing at the Elkmont campground inside the Great Smoky Mountains National Park. It was Shane’s idea. I can’t help but adore how romantically sentimental my husband is. How on earth did I get to be so lucky?
“That’s true, it is getting late,” Hank agrees. “We better get going. The first shuttle leaves at seven.”
“All right…everyone scoot. Go get ready and we’ll head out in five minutes.” The kitchen empties out, leaving me alone with Shane, and he tugs at my hand as I try to follow everyone into the living room. “Not you, woman. You wait just a minute.”
I look up at him questioningly.
“I need a kiss first.” His eyes twinkle as he gathers me in his embrace and steals the kiss that has me melting in his arms. “I love you, Felony.”
“I love you too, Pain,” I tell him, and I mean it with every fiber of my being.
“Yeah, you do.” With a playful tweak to my nose, he turns to head out.
But instead of going with him I freeze in place, rooted to the floor as a sudden gush of wet warmth soaks the crotch and thighs of my stretchy maternity pants.
What the hell? Did I just…was that…was it…oh my God! Did my water just break? It did! But it’s not time yet, not for another three weeks! Oh no, I have to call my parents…I have to call Madelyn…I have to…eww, I have to get out of these wet pants…
Shane pauses to look back at me. “Are you ready to go, babe?”
My mouth parts in disbelief and I stare at him with wide, unblinking eyes. “Uh. Sure. Only I think we’re going to have to make a little detour along the way.”
“Okay, but we’ll have to make it quick. Where did you need to go?”
“The hospital,” I tell him as a slow, furtive smile begins to unfold. “You might want to run upstairs and get my overnight bag. I could be mistaken, but I think you’re about to become a father.”
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About the Author
Born and raised in small-town Alabama, Allie Gail currently resides in the panhandle of Florida with her schmexy blue-eyed hubby, where they are both held hostage by two evil entities disguised as cats. (If you’re reading this – send help!!) She has always been a diehard fan of romance, and The Firefly Effect is her sixth novel falling into that genre, though her first attempt at anything resembling erotica. So if it falls beneath your expectations, you can blame the feline poop machines for killing the mood.
When she isn’t busy obsessing over the lexicon of her latest project, Allie can usually be found snuggled up to her hubby watching Netflix, helping out with the family business or playing online RPG games while indulging her hopeless addiction to Tootsie Rolls.
In other words, she’s a total nerd.
Connect with her at http://www.facebook.com/alliegailauthor or follow Allie on Twitter at http://twitter.com/alliegailauthor.
She would love to hear from you!
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Bonus Excerpt
Burning Down the House
“Hellooo, baaaa-by!”
Startled, I floundered to cover my boobs while splashing water over the side of the tub and all across the floor in the process. “What the hell! What are you - get out of here!” I threw a loofah at him but in my haste I missed.
Ignoring my demand, Rob moseyed over to kneel beside the bathtub, propping his arms on the edge and smirking at my compromising position. There weren’t any bubbles left to hide under, so I quickly drew my knees up to my chest and wrapped my arms around them. “What are you, deaf? I said get out!”
“I heard what you said.” To my amazement, he dipped his fingers in the water and swirled them around. “Water’s getting cold.”
“Then take your hand out of it!” I snapped, my cheeks flushing pink.
“I think we should let it out.” He reached underwater for the drain stopper, and his grin slowly spread as my eyes widened.
“Don’t you dare.”
“See…payback’s a bitch, now isn’t it?”
“Don’t touch that drain. I mean it.” To my horror, I felt an overwhelming urge to laugh and I pressed my lips together to suppress a smile. For some idiotic reason, whenever I get nervous I start giggling like a deranged person. I have no idea why. It’s very annoying, especially because it happens at the most inopportune moments.
“I thought we were playing You-Show-Me-Yours-And-I’ll-Show-You-Mine.” He lifted the edge of the stopper just enough to tease me, allowing a small amount of water to escape. “Well, you had your go and now it’s my turn.”
“I think you’ve had one too many beers!” That probably wasn’t even far from the truth. After all, I’d never seen him acting this cheeky before.
“Whoops. Oh my goodness - what do we have here?” He plucked the stopper completely out and held it up, just out of my reach. The water began to rush down the drain. To me it seemed to be disappearing ten times faster than usual.
“It’s not funny!” I protested, even though I was struggling not to giggle at that point. My shoulders were shaking.
“I’m not the one laughing,” he reminded me.
“All right - fine, you got me back. Ha, ha, you’re so clever. At least hand me a towel.”
“Mm…I don’t think so.”
“Hand me a freaking towel!” The water was getting perilously low, and I shoved one foot over the drain to try and diminish the flow.
“You didn’t say please…” he sang softly.
“Rob…” I looked straight at him then, directly into those hazel eyes, and something I saw in them squashed my impulse to laugh. I don’t know what it was, but all of a sudden the only impulse I felt anymore was the overpowering urge to kiss him. And not only that. I had the craziest compulsion to wrap my arms around his neck and pull him on top of me and let him do me six ways to Sunday, right there in the bathtub.
My expression must have been transparent because his smile inexplicably faded. He hesita
ted for a moment, his eyes searching mine. For what, I can’t say. But I guess he didn’t find what he was looking for there. Straightening, he tossed me the drain stopper and walked out without a word.
I climbed out of the tub to close and lock the door behind him, then leaned against it while waiting for my rapid breathing to slow. Water dripped from my wet hair into small puddles on the floor, and I finally reached for a towel. I hadn’t realized it until just now, but I was trembling all over. He’d shaken me to the core with just one lingering look. And what the hell was up with that? The guy was a prick! Why on earth would I want him anywhere near me?
Still unsettled, I quickly towel dried my hair, brushed my teeth and then padded into my room to pull on some panties and a nightshirt. With the only way into my bathroom being through the bedroom, I’d never seen a reason to lock the door before. It looked as though that was about to change. Next time the jerk might decide to snap a photo with his cell phone or something. Yeah, that was all I needed. My naked ass plastered all over the internet.
I was just crawling into bed when Dad called from DC to check on things, so I filled him in on everything that had been going on. Well…not everything, obviously. Mostly just talk about homecoming. And when I got a text message two minutes after saying bye to Dad, I figured it had to be from either Dana or Riley.
It was from the idiot down the hall: Nice rack, btw.
I probably should’ve been indignant, but instead it made me smile. My snarky reply: How r u texting with only one free hand?
Him: It isn’t easy!
Me: Lol, shut up and go to sleep.
Him: I will after I’m done.
Me: PERV!
Him: L8r. Need both hands for this.
I was still smiling when I drifted into sleep.