by Jen Andrews
He chuckled. “No. Does it need to be?”
I reached behind me and gave his crotch a firm squeeze. “Yes.”
He quickly jumped up from the bed and locked the door, as I reached under my dress and pulled off my panties.
“Hurry,” I whispered, giggling while he was on his way back to the bed, unbuttoning his pants.
“This is crazy, Zoey.”
I didn’t give a flying fuck at that point. I needed him right then.
“Where do you want me?” he asked as he arrived back at the bed.
I stood at the edge of the bed and slightly bent over it, bracing myself on my hands.
“Oh fuck yes,” he growled as he lifted up my dress and slid his fingers inside me from behind to make sure I was ready for him.
“Hard and fast, please . . . I’m already halfway there,” I teased as he pulled his fingers out and thrust into me, with his pants around his knees. Oh, yes. That’s incredible.
Less than ten minutes later, we were done and cleaning up in the guest bathroom. My man would go for hours or just a few minutes if necessary, and I loved it.
“Did you have a nice nap, Mija?” my mom asked when we came into the kitchen.
Andy gave my hand a knowing squeeze then made a beeline to where the guys were in the other room. He didn’t want to have to make eye contact with my mom because he thought she would know what we had just done. Chicken-shit.
“It was wonderful,” I said without skipping a beat. “Sorry I fell asleep and didn’t help out very much.”
She glanced up at me and smiled. I don’t think she suspected anything, but she wasn’t letting on if she did.
“It’s okay. I remember those pregnancy days, Zoey.”
Later that night after we went home and got Hamish and Sarah settled in the guest room, Andy and I went to bed and laughed hysterically about our little tryst at my parents’ house. He decided we needed to do it again, this time at our place so he could take his time with me. Of course, I said yes.
I woke up late from a restful night’s sleep with the sun shining through the window in the bedroom of the apartment above the shop. Andy and I had been here only a short time, but he made sure everything we moved over from the loft was put away.
Andy, my dad, and my brothers packed everything we owned, with the exception of anything we absolutely needed, and moved it to a storage building so the renovations could get underway on our place.
Eyes closed, I laid there silently listening to Andy while he cooked breakfast. I smelled French toast and something else. It was something sweet, and floral, to be exact. Slowly, I opened my eyes, and sitting on the nightstand next to the bed was a beautiful pot of very fragrant, pink and white Stargazer lilies.
He knew I didn’t like flower bouquets because they always died, so when he did buy me flowers, he always bought me something I could plant and enjoy every season when they bloomed.
After I rolled from the bed, I took a shower and dressed in some of my man’s pajama pants and his All Blacks hoody. It was my birthday darn it, and I wanted to be comfortable. It was a bit chilly in the apartment, so I stuck my feet into my fuzzy slippers and headed out to the kitchen, turning up the thermostat on the way.
I snuck up behind Andy who was at the stove flipping a piece of French toast in a pan. I slid my arms around his waist and kissed his bare back.
“Good morning.” I kissed him again, rested my cheek on his back, and breathed him in. He was always so warm, and always smelled good. It comforted me like nothing else could.
He set the spatula aside and turned around, wrapping me in his arms.
“Happy birthday, Beautiful,” he said as he hugged me tightly. “You’re supposed to be asleep still so I can bring you brekkie in bed.”
I raised up on my toes and kissed him. “Thank you for the lilies, and I can go back to bed if you want me to.”
He smiled. “You would do that for me? Just because I wanted to bring you brekkie in bed on your birthday?”
“Yes. I will do anything for you, and if you want to bring me brekkie in bed on my birthday . . . I guess I’m going back to bed.”
Before heading back to the bedroom, I kissed him lightly on the lips, and placed another kiss on his tattooed chest.
As I walked down the hallway I heard him holler, “I love you, birthday girl!” I grinned and shook my head. God that man makes me happy.
After propping myself up against the pillows in our bed, I turned on my iPod and listened to music while I waited for my sexy husband to deliver me breakfast. A few minutes later, he walked in carrying a tray and set it over my legs. I noticed something white and blue that looked a whole lot like a Dutch Bros. cup.
I eyed Andy curiously. I hadn’t drank coffee in months.
“Don’t worry, it’s decaf,” he reassured me.
I wanted to give him a thank you kiss for the surprise coffee, but the tray and my belly were in the way. “Come here,” I said and leaned as close as possible toward him.
He came in for a kiss, then picked up my fork and knife and began cutting up my French toast for me.
Seriously? I giggled. “Wow, I’m really getting spoiled today, huh?”
He nodded, smiling, and continued cutting up my food. When he was finished, he handed me my fork.
“What, you’re not going to feed me too?” Jokingly, I folded my arms across my chest and frowned.
He snatched the fork out of my hand and stabbed a piece of French toast with it. Once he held it up to my mouth, and I tried to take the bite, he jerked it back and shoved it into his mouth.
“Okay, smartass . . . you’re never allowed to feed me again on my birthday. Last year you ate all my dessert.”
“Zoey, you couldn’t even hold the spoon because you were so drunk. You’re lucky you got to eat any of your dessert.” He chuckled at the memory of our dinner at the Mexican restaurant and handed my fork back to me.
As I ate my breakfast, I fed him too. I even shared a few sips of my coffee with him.
“You know,” he said, “this brekkie was supposed to be for you.”
I shrugged and fed him another bite of French toast. After he refused to eat any more, I finished off the rest of the food on my plate. He set my half-full coffee cup on my nightstand and picked up the tray to take it back to the kitchen.
“Stay right here,” he said. “I have pressies for you.”
I smiled and hoped he would never stop using Kiwi words and phrases. It was adorable when he said them, and I wanted him to teach them to our children.
Andy came back in with a medium sized gift bag and a tiny blue gift bag from Tiffany & Co. He set them on the bed in front of me, then walked back out of the room and returned with a plate of French toast for himself.
“Open those while I eat,” he said as he tipped his chin toward the gift bags.
Of course, I opened the Tiffany bag first and pulled out a small, flat box. Luckily, it wasn’t a ring box. I had a feeling he might spend too much money on my birthday or buy me that ridiculously expensive ring he had picked out before.
I was pleasantly surprised when I opened the box and found a silver necklace with a heart shaped pendant. Also hanging on the chain was a tiny, key charm.
“It’s beautiful, thank you. Is this the key to your heart?”
Andy set his plate down and stood to put the necklace on me. “No, smartass. After I gave you my heart, I threw that key away so you would keep my heart forever.”
Sometimes the things that came out of his mouth cracked me up. “You’re such a cheeseball, but I still love you,” I joked.
He chuckled. “I say stupid shit like that to keep that gorgeous smile on your face.”
Yep, that made me smile. Again.
When he was finished with my necklace, I pulled him onto the bed and held him close.
“I swear I’ll keep your heart forever, my love, and guard it with my life.”
He pulled back and pressed his forehead to mine. �
�I love you, Zoey. Happy birthday.”
He kissed me and sat back down to eat, handing me my next present. I pulled the tissue paper out of the bag and took out a box wrapped in pale, pink paper and silvery-gray, satin ribbon. I tugged the ribbon loose and carefully pulled off the paper.
Inside the wrapping paper was an expensive looking digital camera. I looked at him inquisitively. We had never even talked about cameras before.
“You can’t keep using your cell phone to take pictures once Hannah is born,” he explained. “It records videos too and has a couple different lenses.”
I loved it. He was Mr. Practical, getting me a camera.
I rose to my knees and walked across the bed to where he was sitting. “Thank you so much. I love everything. Especially you.”
I hugged him, and then kissed his delicious lips. He tasted like French toast, powdered sugar, and . . . Andy.
“Mmm, you taste scrumptious,” I said and kissed him again.
He set his empty plate on the nightstand then took the bags and camera off the bed.
“I have one more for you,” he said with a smirk as he dropped his jeans and boxers to the floor. He pulled the hoody over my head, then rid me of the rest of my clothes and gave me one hell of a birthday present.
After my wonderful birthday morning, I was unfortunately, needed at the store. Andy had a meeting at the contractor’s office, to go over a few final plans. I dressed in maternity jeans, and one of Andy’s James Racing T-shirts since none of mine fit me anymore.
Jerry, one of the guys who worked at our parts desk helping customers, had called me because they were having an issue with one of the computers. I fixed the computer eventually and took a stroll to the warehouse to check out the progress on the installation of the new security doors Andy had insisted upon.
The back warehouse had no windows, but in the store, new security doors in addition to windows were being installed too. I talked with the men who were working on the doors for a few minutes then made my way up to the front of the store.
“Zoey, do you mind if I run to the bathroom real quick?” Jerry asked as I came through the back door from the storeroom.
Jerry was the only one in the store as our cashier Tara was on her lunch break, but she would be back any time. “Yeah, Jerry, go ahead. I can handle it out here.”
I walked up and down the aisles to see if anything needed to be done. I restocked a row of brake cleaner, turned around to take the empty box to the back room, and ran smack into Rob.
He was carrying a bouquet of flowers.
“What are you doing here, Rob?”
He backed up and looked me over, shock and anger overtaking his face. “You’re pregnant?”
“No shit, Sherlock.” I was not in the mood for his crap, especially on my birthday. “You need to leave before Andy gets back. If he sees you here, it’s only going to end badly.”
He smirked. “What’s that Aussie piece of shit gonna do?”
I shook my head not bothering to correct Rob about where Andy was actually from. “Fine, I’ll go call my brothers. All four of them will be here in about one minute.”
I turned my back on him to use the phone at the parts desk to call over to the shop.
His fingers curled around my wrist and he squeezed hard, jerking me back toward him.
“Don’t you fucking dare, you bitch,” he growled.
Whoa, what the fuck? He had never, ever laid a hand on me before, so I was in complete shock at his outburst.
It was then that I took a good look at him, and noticed how thin he’d become since I last saw him. His face was so close to mine, I could smell the rotten stench of his breath. His black hair was stringy, and dirty. I noticed his teeth and gums were rotting, and he had nasty sores on his face.
He’s been doing meth. I would recognize those signs anywhere.
“Rob!” I screeched as he twisted my wrist even more, and fiery pain burned up my arm to my shoulder. “Let go! You’re hurting me!”
He moved closer to my face, so that every time he talked, little drops of his spit hit me.
“You fucking cunt,” he growled. “You think you’re so much better than me now, don’t you?”
I tried wrenching my arm free, but he gripped it tighter. Fuck that hurts.
My wrist met its rotation limit, but Rob didn’t stop twisting. He continued turning my entire arm until my body was doubling over from the pain. If he twisted any more, I would end up on the floor.
He bent down and got in my face again. “I should burn this fucking place to the ground with you in it.”
What the hell? I was terrified. I could feel my body trembling from the adrenaline pumping through my veins.
Rob twisted my arm one more time, and I had no choice but to drop to my knees. I was bent over with my arm wrenched up behind me, and my face almost touching the floor. I cried out in pain. I didn’t think my arm could take much more.
He finally let go of me, and that’s when I assumed he saw my wedding rings.
“You fucking married that guy?” He threw the bouquet of flowers, hitting me in the head.
Petals and leaves broke free from them, littering my hair and the floor around me. I nodded but stayed on the floor. I didn’t know what else to do. The man was off his fucking rocker right then, and I didn’t want to piss him off more.
“Rob, please,” I said quietly. “You need to get help. Why are you doing this?”
Where was Jerry? Couldn’t he hear what was going on?
“I came here to talk to you Zoey, to tell you happy birthday,” he hissed. “I miss you . . . and I come here, and I find you like . . . this!”
He glared down at me, then my stomach. His face contorted in disgust. “That should be my baby, not his.” He looked me directly in the eyes and yelled, “You killed my baby, Zoey!”
What the fuck was he talking about? He knew I’d had a miscarriage even though he hadn’t even bothered going to the hospital when I had gone to the ER.
He stood and paced furiously, running his hands through his greasy hair. “How could you do this to me?” he growled and stopped to glare down at me.
What was he talking about? I hadn’t seen or heard from him in months. I knew from the experience with my birth mom that people who were so far gone on meth, tended to get paranoid and thought people were out to get them. He must be at that point.
The bell dinged as someone opened the front door, so I screamed for help. Rob stopped pacing, reached down, and grabbed a handful of my hair, yanking me up toward him.
“Shut the fuck up!” he screamed in my face, spitting all over me again in the process.
I smacked at his hands and tried to pull them out of my hair. I felt and heard the strands being ripped from my scalp.
Rob loosened his grip and pushed me back toward the floor. I twisted my body and landed on my side. I instinctively wrapped my arms around my stomach to protect Hannah.
He brought his right foot back, then swung his leg forward to kick me. Right at the last second, I brought my knees up, so I was in the fetal position when his foot connected. I successfully shielded Hannah with my legs and arms, but ended up being kicked on the shins instead of the stomach.
In the next instant, our little spitfire cashier, Tara, launched herself at Rob, and screamed for help. She wielded a tire iron in her hands and hit him in the back with it as hard as she could.
While she wailed on him, I scrambled to my feet, grabbed a can of brake cleaner, and sprayed him in the face with it. He howled in pain as he blindly wrestled with Tara. He backed up a step and she hit him again.
Rob tried to shield himself from Tara’s swinging, but it wasn’t working out so well for him. She landed two more hard hits to his arms before he ran through the store and out the front door, falling down the steps in the process.
A split second later, Jerry, and the men who were installing the security doors came barreling through the back door. Everything happened so fast, Rob was alr
eady gone by the time they ran into the store.
I was lucky Tara came in when she did. Who knew what Rob would have done next.
“Tara,” I blubbered. “Tara . . . Thank you.”
She dropped the tire iron, ran to me, and escorted me to the parts desk to sit down. I heard someone on the phone calling 911.
“Are you hurt?” I asked Tara.
“No. I’m fine. Zoey, you need to sit down, okay? Don’t worry about me.”
I sat down on a chair someone brought out from the break room. I was shaking uncontrollably, and my wrist was on fire. I didn’t know how much time had passed, but I heard sirens and they were getting closer.
“He tried kicking me in the stomach, Tara,” I cried, realizing he could have killed Hannah. Oh God, he tried to kill my baby.
Tara hugged me. “Shh, Zoey,” she said quietly as she rubbed her hand up and down on my back. “Try to stay calm, please. The cops just pulled up.”
Everything turned to complete chaos when all four of my brothers came pushing through the back door.
“Zoey?” Jeremy knelt down on the floor next to my chair. “Are you alright? What the hell happened?”
I threw my arms around my brother’s neck. “Rob,” I sobbed. “He attacked me . . . Jer . . . he tried to kick me in the stomach.” I couldn’t stop crying.
Jeremy put his arms around my shoulders and under the backs of my knees and lifted me up. He sat down on the chair with me on his lap and let me cry on his shoulder.
Zoey was going to be so pissed at me. After my meeting with the contractor to go over a few changes to the loft, I stopped at the Chevy dealership and ordered her a brand new Chevy Tahoe for Christmas. Her Audi was safe, but small, and I didn’t like the thought of her driving around with a new baby inside. Memories of the truck hitting my family’s car would always haunt me because I had seen the truck veer across the lane just before hitting us, smashing our mid-sized car into the size of a small car.
On my drive home, I had to pull off to the side of the road three times to let police cruisers and an ambulance pass. Flashing lights and screaming sirens flew by, then once the way was clear, I pulled back onto the road with the rest of the traffic. When I turned onto my street, the scene in front of me unfolded in slow motion.