Declan Reede: The Untold Story (Complete Series)

by Michelle Irwin

  Phoebe looked solemn for a moment. “So where is he?”

  “He’s in Mummy’s tummy.” Alyssa pulled her sleep shirt tight across her small but growing baby bump. “In there.”

  Phoebe shifted to lay her head on Alyssa’s lap, making Alyssa and me chuckle. After a moment, Phoebe lifted her head. “I can’t heared him.”

  “You won’t be able to.” Alyssa opened her arms, inviting Phoebe to snuggle closer. At first Alyssa winced—no doubt as Phoebe brushed near Alyssa’s sensitive boobs—but then she smiled. “But you’ll be able to feel him soon. In a few more weeks, he’ll be big enough that you’ll be able to feel him kicking.”

  “Daddy, will you feel that too?”

  “I can’t wait.” I wasn’t lying. Since Alyssa had handed me the stick on Christmas Eve announcing pregnancy, I’d wished for something tangible to prove our new baby was alive and well. Alyssa at least got that. Not that I wanted to suffer through the things she had to deal with. Still, feeling something like a kick or a squirm would be more than enough evidence for me. It would be everything—at least until he was born.

  I shifted closer to the two of them, curling one hand into Phoebe’s hair and resting the other on Alyssa’s belly. She rested her hand on the top and grinned at me. For that moment, life was perfect.

  OUR PERFECT moment didn’t last long. When I woke the next morning, it was to the dulcet tones of Alyssa vomiting in the hotel en suite. I lifted my head to check on her, but my question died on my lips when she heaved again.

  “What’s wrong with Mummy?” Phoebe asked, her little voice full of concern.

  “Your baby brother is making himself known,” I said without thinking as I climbed from the bed to see if Alyssa needed anything.

  Phoebe was right behind me. “Is he coming now? But he’s too little.” The panic in her little voice was almost heartbreaking.

  I chuckled. “No, sweetie, he’s just making Mummy a little sick, that’s all.”

  A pout formed on her lips and a frown creased her brow. “I don’t like Mummy being sick. I don’t want a brover if it makes Mummy sick.”

  “It’s okay. It’s the sort of sick that goes away. It’s not that bad.”

  When the tap in the bathroom shut off with a shudder, my gaze cut to Alyssa. “Not that bad?” she snapped. “How would you like to wake in the morning needing to puke your guts out? To be nauseous. All. The. Time.” She yanked the hand towel off the rack and dried her hands before wiping her mouth.

  “You know what I meant, Lys.” I nodded in Phoebe’s direction, trying to let Alyssa know that I’d said what I had in order to stop our daughter from panicking or learning to hate her brother.

  “Yeah, sure, I know exactly what you meant.” She slammed the towel down on the bathroom counter. “I’m sure it’s fantastic that you get to share in the spoils and suffer none of the strain. Story of your life, isn’t it?”

  I raised my hands in surrender and frowned. “That’s not fair.”

  “No.” She narrowed her eyes at me. “What’s not fair is me having to go through all of this just because you wanted another baby!”

  I blinked at her as I processed the words, unable to believe they’d left her. Was she fucking serious? She’d said she was ready to try again. That she wanted to grow our little family too. Had she lied to me? As I was trying to formulate an appropriate response, she started crying.

  “What if something goes wrong, Dec?” Alyssa chocked out through her tears.

  Phoebe rushed to Alyssa’s side and wrapped her arms around Alyssa’s thighs.

  “Nothing’s going to go wrong,” I reassured as I crossed the room to embrace both my girls. I lifted Phoebe onto my hip and the two of us hugged Alyssa.

  Once she was safe in my arms, Alyssa’s tears fell harder. I didn’t say anything—wasn’t sure what I could say that wouldn’t bring back the rage machine she’d been a few minutes earlier or send her into a fresh round of tears. Slowly, her tears abated to mere sniffles and she held us both in response.

  “God, I’m hungry,” Alyssa said as she pulled back a moment later and gave Phoebe and me a smile.

  My mouth slackened. I found myself speechless. How the hell was I supposed to know how to deal with someone who went through every emotion in less than an hour?

  Her anger resurfaced when I asked whether she’d be okay to get back on the road. I really needed to figure out how to not piss her off if I intended on seeing the day our baby was born. If only I knew what it was about the phrase, “Do you reckon you’ll be able to handle the Monaro to get home?” that set Alyssa off.

  AFTER ANOTHER day of regular stops, slow progress—with regular trips on the mood swing express—we made it to Mum’s house.

  Our house.

  Mum was there to greet us. Phoebe rushed straight to her side and practically threw herself into Mum’s arms, who ducked down to catch her before standing upright again.

  “Guess what, Nana,” she said with a grin that stretched from ear to ear.

  “What?”

  “I’m getting a baby brover for my birthday.”

  My heart pounded in my chest. Alyssa and I had discussed the possibility of telling family—we were past the danger zone after all—but hadn’t firmly decided on when, or who to tell first. I worried Phoebe’s slip might bring out the Hulk temporarily living inside my wife once more.

  “What?” Mum’s gaze shifted from Phoebe to me. I couldn’t hide the shit-eating grin on my lips. Before she said anything more, her gaze cut to Alyssa’s stomach and the barely there bump beneath her dress. I could see the moment the when truth hit her and she lit up. “Wow. That’s exciting isn’t it?” she asked Phoebe.

  “He’s not a very nice brover, though.” Phoebe stuck her bottom lip out.

  Mum raised one brow and her gaze fell to me, suspicion clear in her eyes. “Why do you say that?”

  I swallowed as I waited for Phoebe’s response, although I was certain I could guess what it was.

  “’Cause he makes Mummy very sick, and that’s not nice.”

  Mum chuckled. “When your daddy was a baby he made me very sick too. That’s just what babies do. Not because they’re mean, but because they can’t help it.”

  Phoebe tilted her head to the side and frowned, deep in thought. Finally, she smiled and nodded.

  “Did you want to see your room?” Mum asked as she put Phoebe on the ground. When Phoebe nodded, Mum added, “It’s the one at the end of the hallway. I’ll be down in a minute.”

  Phoebe rushed into the house and Mum covered the ground back to Alyssa and me.

  “Wow, congratulations, you two,” she said. Her tone belied the joy she felt. I was certain she believed Phoebe and Emmanuel would be her only grandchildren. “I can’t believe I’m going to be a nana again.”

  “Thank you,” Alyssa said with a smile. She practically radiated with contentment. Fuck, she was gorgeous. “No one else knows yet though, so can you keep it on the down-low for now? Just until we get to see Mum and Dad on the weekend.”

  “Of course,” Mum said, bringing Alyssa into her arms. “Congratulations,” she said again. Her smile was so bright, so wide, it was easy to believe she was the one who was pregnant. She added almost silently, “And thank you.”

  After she’d hugged Alyssa, Mum came to me while Alyssa trailed into the house—no doubt trying to ensure Phoebe wasn’t getting up to any mischief. Her eyes were so bright, and the smile that still graced her lips took at least ten years off her appearance. She didn’t even have to ask before I wrapped my arms around her.

  For a while, our relationship had been strained—almost fractured—but it was stronger than ever. When she’d returned from her extended overseas holiday, she started getting out more and more. She even had a close circle of friends in the city. She didn’t mind telling everyone her newfound confidence was all because of me. I’d given her the permission she’d needed to leave Dad.

  “Are you happy about the baby?” she whis
pered as she glanced across at Alyssa.

  Did she think I was pushed into it? That I didn’t want more children? “Happy? Mum, I’m over the fucking moon. I can’t believe I’m lucky enough to get to experience it all with Lys from the beginning this time.”

  She squeezed my arm reassuringly. “Take care of her.” Her smile fell, no doubt as ghosts of the past haunted her memories. “It’s not going to be an easy journey for her after the outcome last time.”

  I nodded. “I’m definitely trying. Although it’d be easier if there was an instruction manual.”

  Her laugh was easy and carefree; it was pretty damn good to hear. “I don’t think there’s a husband out there who doesn’t wish for one of those. Just remember, there’s not much trouble silence can get you into. Unless she’s asked a question about how she looks, in which case you need a fast and appropriate yes or no, or there’ll be hell to pay. Better yet, just tell her how beautiful she is.”

  “What was it like for her, last time I mean?” It was something I’d wanted to ask, but didn’t know how to raise it with Alyssa. I was certain she’d downplay the worst parts, but Mum would give it to me straight.

  “She had it pretty rough. Morning sickness most of the way, mood swings like you couldn’t believe, and the appetite of a small hippo. Mind you, I think that last one might have been because she’d neglected herself so much in the first couple of months.”

  My stomach fell when I realised I was the reason she’d neglected herself. It was what her father had mentioned during our wedding. You’re a fucking idiot, Reede.

  “Don’t worry too much about it, honey. I guarantee all she’ll need is for you to be there for her. Just try not to take anything she says to heart.”

  I recalled her accusation that morning. Don’t take it personal. Easier said than done. Surely it couldn’t get much worse, could it?

  CHAPTER FIVE: SWING SWING

  AFTER TELLING ALYSSA’S family about the pregnancy, I was treated to the expected round of excited squeals from Alyssa; her mother, Ruth; and sister-in-law, Ruby. Curtis and Josh were more subdued but still offered congratulatory handshakes to me and hugs to Alyssa. Phoebe took great delight in the attention lavished on her about the fact that she was going to be a big sister.

  As we were about to leave, Ruth pulled Alyssa aside, and they had a brief, private conversation that looked more heated than most of theirs usually got. Alyssa’s lips pressed together as she shot me an accusatory look and then disappeared down the hallway with her mum. When they returned, Ruth was carrying a box and Alyssa had an oversized satchel bag stuffed full of something.

  Understanding that I was required to be a packhorse for a moment, I grabbed the bag off Alyssa and the box from Ruth. I didn’t ask what was in there—obviously that was a source of contention between the two of them—but I played the part of the dutiful husband so I didn’t get chewed out later on for being an arsehole, or whatever insult Alyssa could come up with for me.

  The instant we were in the car, Alyssa blew up. “How dare she do that!”

  I wasn’t sure if it was safe to ask who or what she was talking about. In the end, I figured it was the safer bet. The other option could make Alyssa think I didn’t care.

  “How dare who do what?”

  She hit the air in front of her. “Mum. How dare she keep all the stuff I told her to throw out!”

  “I’m lost,” I admitted.

  Alyssa pinched the bridge of her nose and sighed. “I moved out of home not long after Phoebe was a year old. I needed my own space, and we needed to be a family. Mum asked me what I wanted her to do with the baby stuff, and I told her to throw it all out because I wasn’t going through that again. She didn’t. She kept it all. Including the cot, the change table, everything. Ruby’s got those for the moment, but apparently by the time this one is born, we’ll be able to have them back.”

  I failed to see what the problem was but didn’t want to say that. I was almost positive that speaking those words out loud would be enough to see me castrated while I slept that night. Taking a breath, I searched for the least offensive way to say what was needed. “It’s a blessing in disguise though, isn’t it?”

  She growled at me. “Of course, I can’t expect you to understand. I wasn’t having more kids, Dec. I told her that. I told her to get rid of it all because I would never need it again, and she didn’t.”

  “But you do—” I cut off when I saw the gaze she turned on me. The honey brown in her eyes was like liquid gold, swirling and leaping out in molten fire. It wasn’t going to help anyone arguing with her that she did, in fact, need the items because she was in fact having more kids. She obviously wasn’t in the mood to hear it.

  “That’s not the point, Dec. The point is that she blatantly disregarded what I asked her to do. She ignored what I wanted. And then she loaned out my cot and change table when they weren’t even hers to give.”

  My fingers tightened around the steering wheel as I tried not to voice the things spinning in my mind. If she didn’t want the fucking stuff, she could hardly be upset that someone else was using it, could she?

  Risking another quick glance at her out of the corner of my eye, I saw that the answer was yes. Yes, she absolutely could. How the fuck was I going to make it another six months dealing with the confusing logic presented by pregnant Alyssa?

  I just hoped like fuck that there were no old articles or newspapers lying around to remind her of the way my life had been after I’d left home and before I found my way back to her again. Something told me any reminders of trysts with anyone else would end badly for me.

  AFTER PHOEBE was asleep, I grabbed the box and bag that Ruth had given to Alyssa from the car. When I put it on the coffee table, Alyssa scowled at me. ”Some of it might come in handy,” I argued at the risk of facing her ire.

  On the top of the box was a strange-looking device. It looked a little like a miniature bullhorn, with a bottle attached to the bottom. When I lifted it, my finger squeezed the trigger. A wheezing intake and the creak of a spring accompanied the action. Even though I wanted to drop it again straight away, I let the machine hang off my index finger instead. “What the fuck is this shit?”

  Alyssa laughed and reached out for the torture implement. “It’s a breast pump.”

  “To do what?”

  “Express milk. For when I can’t be near the baby.”

  I curled my nose in disgust as I dropped it into her palm. “So what . . . you milk yourself? Like a cow?”

  “Yes,” the irritation in her tone was clear, “exactly like a fucking cow. Because that’s what this pregnancy will make me. A fat cow.”

  My eyes widened as I saw the minefield laid out in front of me. Goddamn, it was going to be difficult to traverse this one. The problem was, I was already deep in the field and there was no easy way to back out. Worse, one toe was pressing against the pressure plate, and if I wasn’t fucking careful, the whole thing would blow up in my face. I couldn’t say she wouldn’t get fat because I didn’t fucking know. Maybe the pregnancy would make her six times the size she was, but I did know I’d love her still. Sure she had a banging body, but that wasn’t what I loved about her.

  Of course, I couldn’t say that I’d love her whatever size she was because she’d immediately think I was trying to cover up for the fact that she was already a few kilos heavier—not that I thought she was, but she thought she was. Her logic was based on the simple fact that it was harder to do up her jeans—hence the dresses—but I didn’t see how that was proof she’d put on any weight other than the baby bump, which would naturally be in the way of jeans.

  If I tried to tell her she was beautiful, I’d get in trouble for only caring about her looks.

  I did the only thing I could think of in the situation. I grabbed the pump off her and dropped it back into the box before pressing my lips against hers. When our lips touched, I kissed her harder than I had since the morning after Christmas when my kisses induced a vomiting spel
l—hardly a confidence booster.

  Despite the shock in her body, she responded almost immediately to my kiss, twisting her tongue around mine in sexy little motions. My hands roamed her body, but when I tried to palm her breast, she smacked my hand out of the way. I took the hint and moved on to her arse instead, before drawing her legs up around my waist.

  Leaving the boxes full of shit for baby behind us, I carried her to the bedroom.

  “What are you doing?” Alyssa asked with a laugh.

  “I’m taking my wife to our bedroom and fucking her good and proper.”

  Her eyes pinched at the edges. “Does your wife get a say in this?”

  “Are you saying no?” I went to drop her back to the floor.

  She locked her legs around my waist. “No.”

  “So you’re saying yes?”

  She chuckled. “Yes.”

  “Good, because I fucking need you, Lys.” It might have started as a way of distracting her from the crap going on in the living room, but it quickly escalated into a genuine need.

  Sitting her on the edge of the bed, I stripped her dress off in one swift motion before claiming her skin all over with my lips. Relishing the attention, she relaxed back onto the mattress, leaving the little swell between her hips on full display.

  Fuck, she was so goddamned beautiful.

  I dropped to my knees in front of her and kissed the bump. Her twisted in my hair, brushing through the soft spikes.

  “We did this, Lys,” I murmured against the small protrusion before slowly drawing her panties off.

  “Fuck,” she growled as she watched me move.

  With our gazes locked, I kissed up her leg—starting at her knee and trailing up her inner thigh. She licked her lips in anticipation as I neared the sweet spot at the apex of her thighs. Fuck, I needed to taste her pussy again; it’d been too long. Then again, a few hours was too long when it came to Alyssa.

  Without breaking our eye contact, I teased her open with my fingers and ran my tongue across her lower lips in one long, smooth trail. The sweet and tangy taste of her made me groan as my eyes sank closed.