Jude's eyes drank me in hungrily, and in a daze, I stood slowly.
"Jude," I whispered.
The strong column of his throat moved on a visible swallow when his eyes landed on my stomach, his lips curving slightly. "Hello," he said, voice low and sure and oh, his accent saying that one little word.
I didn't dare move when he closed the remaining distance between us because I couldn't believe he was in my bedroom. His hand rose carefully, and when I knew what he was doing, I gently took it, laying it over the top of my sizeable stomach. A gentle roll rippled the surface of my stomach, and he huffed out in amazement.
"Holy bleeding hell," he whispered. "Look at how beautiful that is."
I laughed, my eyes pricking with happy tears. "I wish you could feel it from my end. It's so crazy."
Jude's other hand slid up my back, and he leaned over to press a gentle kiss to the top of my head. "You look incredible, Lia."
My fingers curled into his forearm as we stood like that, his hand on my belly, the other on my back between my shoulder blades. The room was filled to the brim with palpable tension, the kind that slowed your movements and forced you to breathe it in deeply, like the kind of electric, crackling air before a storm or a first kiss.
I turned into him, wrapping my arms firmly around him, and he did the same, exhaling heavily when I was fully folded between those strong arms.
Tilting my head up, I studied his face. He looked good. Tired, but his eyes glowed like I'd never, ever seen. "You're here."
Jude grinned. "I may have fibbed about my arrival time."
"So ... Logan picked you up? I saw his truck out there."
He nodded, carefully pulling away but leaving his hands to smooth up my upper arms so he could look at me again. "I managed to get his phone number through my agent, and then his agent."
I covered my face with my hand and groaned. "Did he like ... do the scary big brother thing?"
Jude laughed. "Terrifyingly well, yes."
And still we stood there, my hands resting on his waist, his on my arms, and suddenly, I felt a flurry of self-consciousness. Carefully, I extricated myself, fidgeting with my hair while he looked at my queen bed and upholstered headboard, then smiled at the bassinet in the corner next to the ivory-colored glider that Molly and Noah bought me as a housewarming present. "My apartment isn't really ... ready yet."
"Do I get the tour?"
I smiled. "Yeah." My arms spread out. "My room, obviously."
"Big windows."
"It's what I loved about this place. When we do get sun, I wanted as much of it as possible. And it's only ten minutes away from Logan and Paige's house."
He glanced into the room that would be the nursery, now only filled with the white crib and dresser, a wicker lamp in the corner, and a fuzzy white and tan rug spread along the floor. Boxes of diapers were stacked in the corner, and empty frames sat propped inside the closet in which hung a long row of small white hangers.
"It's a work in progress," I told him. "I'll get a lot of stuff at the shower today."
He stared at the crib for a few seconds, then blinked, his attention returning to me. "I love it."
"Thank you." My face warmed under his praise.
"I, uh, I have something to add to it, actually."
My head tilted, a smile spreading across my face. "You do?"
"It's in my suitcase." Gently, he took my hand, and even if it wasn't smart, I curled my fingers through his and let him lead me into the family room. I found a spot on the couch and watched him curiously when he immediately crouched in front of me. Then his fingers brushed over my ankle, and I sucked in a breath. So, so carefully, he closed the buckle on my shoes with his big fingers, allowing his palm to rest briefly on my ankle when he'd finished.
"Thank you," I whispered. Where, exactly, had my voice gone? Apparently, it flew out the window with my reserve upon seeing his face. His scruffy, exhausted, handsome face, which I wanted to grab with both hands so I could kiss the absolute shit out of him. There was something coming from him that made me feel a little bit less crazy for feeling that way.
Something in the way he was looking at me.
Something in the way he was touching me, with such care and such reverence.
Jude, for the first time since I'd met him, was looking at me like I could crush the heart in his chest if I said the wrong thing. And that was the difference, I realized, as he gave me a secretive smile before unzipping his sleek black suitcase. Shifting perfectly rolled clothes aside, he fished out a box, perfectly wrapped in gold foil wrapping paper, then another smaller one.
Taking a seat next to me, he took a deep breath before handing the smaller of the two to me. On the label, scrawled in his masculine handwriting, was my name.
"This is from Rebecca too," he admitted.
My mouth fell open. "Did she ... is this ...?" I held the box up to my nose and took a whiff. "Oh my gosh, you didn't."
Like a kid on a frickin’ Christmas Day, I tore into the present with glee, causing Jude to laugh heartily when I tossed the paper at him and ripped open the top of the box.
Scones. Beautiful, beautiful scones sat inside the box, enclosed in a plastic bag.
"As fresh as I could manage," he said. "She finished them a couple of hours before I had to leave for the airport."
I pulled one out of the bag and held it up to my nose. "Oh, I love her," I groaned. I took as delicate of a bite as I could manage since I already had my lipstick on. Eyes closed, I sank back on the couch and savored every perfectly not-fresh crumb. "My soul is so happy right now."
"It would seem so," he said, voice full of amusement.
After one more bite, I sat up, giving him a shy smile. "Thank you."
"I'm sorry I couldn't manage some clotted cream in there." With a smile, he watched me take another small bite and then move that box aside. When my lap was free again, he slid me the second box. On that label, it said Little Pineapple. My eyes met his, and he grinned.
With careful fingers, I pulled open the wrapping paper. It felt more important to go slow with this one, and it was almost never my instinct to go slow on anything. But as I folded the edges back, I knew what he was trying to do. He was trying to create something special. Something meaningful. It was why he came earlier than he told me and why he reached out to my brother.
When I pulled the top of the lid off, three objects were wrapped in white tissue paper, one large and square, one medium and squishier looking, and one flat and small.
"Any particular order I should open these in?" I asked.
His eyes were smiling as he watched me, and I felt it in my heart.
"Left to right is fine." He pulled out his phone. "I have a video that goes with the second one."
"My goodness," I murmured, picking up the first. It felt like books, which made me smile. When I pulled off the tissue, I laughed in delight. It was a stack of board books, all baby versions of classic literature. On the top was Jane Eyre with a bright illustrated cover. "Jude, these are amazing."
Underneath Jane Eyre was Pride and Prejudice, The Wizard of Oz, Alice in Wonderland, Sherlock Holmes, The Jungle Book, and Romeo and Juliet.
"So that you can teach our child all the wonderful things you know so well," he said.
I clutched Jane Eyre to my chest like it might contain all the happy I was feeling. "Thank you," I said, completely overcome.
"Next," he urged.
I set the books aside and picked up the next package. It was soft but firm. Before I could pull the tissue off, he handed me his phone. The screen was dark, a play arrow in the middle of it.
"Video first?" I asked.
He nodded.
I hit the button. I didn't recognize the dark table or kitchen where Jude had set the phone. His face filled the screen, and I could immediately read the nerves in his expression.
"Hello, the present you're about to open isn't just from me. I had some help in getting this to you and to the baby." Jude turne
d the screen, and I saw his mom wave nervously. I gasped, a hand coming up to cover my mouth. I only spared Jude a quick glance through my lashes, but he was watching me with a slight smile.
"Lia," his mom started in a wavering voice, "Jude's father and I wish very much we could be there to give you this in person. And I'd like to start by apologizing for what happened at the pub the last night we saw you. We have no excuse for our behavior, and"—she looked over at Jude—"it's something that we're working on as a family, to overcome. I hope you can forgive us because we'd love to meet our grandchild someday soon. And if there are any mistakes on the gift, it's because Jude doesn't take direction very well. But I did try." In the video, Jude gave his mom a smile, and she returned it. It was awkward, and they both looked unsure, but I felt a tear go down my cheek all the same. "Take care of that little one for us."
The video cut off. I couldn't even risk a glance at him before I opened the next package.
It was two small creatures made from the same soft wool of the sheep I'd found in his room. One was a similarly shaped sheep with a lopsided head and one leg. Through my tears, I traced the other, a black and gray wolf.
"So our families can teach our child all the things they know as well," he said in a rough voice.
His eyes were filled with tears, and I cupped the side of his face, smoothing a thumb underneath his eyes. "You talked to your family?"
"We are very much a work in progress," he said, clasping my hand and pulling it down so he could lay a kiss in the center of my palm. "I won't say we're all the way there, but with the help of a therapist," he said with a wry smile, "and a few tense phone calls before my visit, yes, I'm talking to my family."
I wiped at my face. "I'm going to have to redo all my makeup, and I can't even be mad about it."
He grinned. "One more, love."
"Oh, geez." I set the small toys aside with just one more soft touch to the wolf. With a grin, I knew this would win Paige over in a heartbeat. She'd love him.
I found myself holding my breath as I unfolded the last bit of tissue. My forehead creased in confusion when I saw a small jersey. It was a different blue, with different logos, but my heart skipped dangerously when recognition clanged like a noisy bell in my head.
"Seattle?" I whispered. "You ...
He settled his hands over top mine, which were clutching the Seattle Sounders jersey with shaking fingers.
"One-year contract," he said, holding my gaze steadily. "My agent thinks I've lost my bloody mind for doing this, but I couldn't stand the thought of being across the ocean from the two of you."
I shook my head. "Jude, I don't even know if I can say this delicately because my emotions are like ... gone right now," my voice wobbled, "but isn't this a massive step down for you?"
"Yes." His grip tightened. "And while you were gone, I realized there are worse things than not playing in England. There are worse things than not being the player I used to be. There are worse things than not having my family understand me." Jude cupped my face the way I'd cupped his, and I leaned into that touch. "I will be happy playing here because the worst thing I can imagine is being away from my heart. That's you, love. Both of you." He slid closer, resting his forehead against mine, and took a deep inhale. "I don't know what I did to deserve finding you that night because you were the catalyst, Lia. Whatever hope I've found for the rest of my life started with you. I know how closed-off I was, how selfish I've been, and reparations begin now. If it takes you a month, a year, two years, for you to trust what we have, I'll wait."
A sob escaped my mouth, and I was hardly able to see him through my tears. The warmth of his hand on my face caught plenty of my tears, and I knew he meant it. And my heart was so full of the truth of that I couldn't find a single word as he held me. My hand gripped his shirt when he tried to pull away, and he laughed under his breath.
"My love," he said, wiping my tears with sure movements of his hands over my skin, "I'm not going anywhere."
"You're not," I replied.
"Not as long as you'll have me." He grinned. "You were so right about us, Lia. And as much as I missed you, this time apart was good for me. We needed it to do this right. Because now, I know that our future is built on something unshakeable, yeah?"
"Yeah." I couldn't stop touching him. "You'd really wait that long?"
His thumb touched the center of my bottom lip. "If that's what you need."
When I pulled in a shaky breath, my tears finally cleared from my eyes, and I slid my hands behind his neck and into his hair. "You know patience isn't my strong suit, right?" I whispered, tugging him closer.
"Is that right?"
I nodded. "Especially when I know what I want."
As his mouth descended achingly close to mine, he laughed. "I'm so bloody in love with you."
I let his words wash over me in a warm, contented sweep. Our lips touched once, twice, and then he tilted his head with a groan, fitting his mouth firmly to mine.
Winding my arms around him, I slid my tongue against his, relief lighting up every nerve ending in my body. I hiked up my dress as high as it would go and tried my damnedest to straddle the beautiful man's lap.
He laughed into my mouth when I couldn't pull it up higher. "Look at you," he murmured. He tugged the dress up over my hips in one sharp tug, gripping my ass and sliding me closer as he sat back on the couch. His hands caressed my thighs, my stomach, and as we traded kisses, his fingers tangled into my hair.
I pulled back and stared at him, one hand over his mouth when he tried to kiss me again. "Is this real? I'm not having one of those really vivid pregnancy sex dreams, am I?"
He nipped at my fingers. "I'd love to hear about those, but no, this is quite real."
I sighed, running my hands over his chest. "I love you too," I whispered, his heart thumping strong and steady and sure under my palm.
His lips—those wonderful, talented, devilish lips—curled up into a smile. "Shall we fix you back up now? Or are we going to be late for your party?"
I ran my nose along his, grinning when he licked at my bottom lip. "They can wait a few more minutes."
"Bloody right, they can," he said against my mouth, his hand cupping my breast. My hips started rolling along with the clever circular motion of his thumb, and Jude's other hand gripped me tightly, fingers digging into my bottom, directing me with a firm motion. "That's it."
That ... was when my cell phone started ringing. "Noooo," I groaned. The shrill sound, coming somewhere from my bedroom, was Claire's ringtone.
He looked dazed, his hand pulling slowly away from my chest. "Right. Good. No, we should stop."
I gave him an incredulous look. "We should?"
"Come on, love, up you go." With a tortured sigh, he helped me to stand, staring intensely at the black lace underwear I was wearing as he carefully pulled my dress back down.
"What? Why? Why are we stopping?"
Jude laughed, kissing my forehead after he'd stood from the couch. "Because the last thing we need is to miss your shower, and me meeting your family."
Ugh. I pouted, which made him laugh. He wrapped me in a hug.
"I know you're right," I said, my head resting in the center of his chest.
He smoothed a hand down my back and leaned his head down. "We can wait a bit longer, love. We have forever."
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Jude
Seven weeks later
"This is not going to work," Lia said between helpless bouts of laughter.
"You doubt me?"
She tried to turn, which was quite a feat in her current condition—one week past her due date. "Yes!"
"What a terrible mistake on your part," I whispered in her ear once she was comfortably on her side.
On my knees over her, I marveled at the expanse of naked skin in front of me. My hands coasted over her stomach, and I smiled when I felt the hard press of an elbow or knee. When I dropped down to kiss that very spot, I caught her mouth curving in a s
mile.
Since the day I arrived, it had been like this between us.
Peace, sublime and sweet happiness that rolled from day to day, all wrapped up in a mind-blowing amount of time in bed.
She kept me up later than I was used to, chatting happily about her days, hearing about mine, and most nights ended with us on the couch, her head in my lap, where I could trace my fingers along the gentle lines of her face and body into the soft length of her hair.
We went out to eat, wandered the sights in Seattle, and she shrieked with laughter when I almost turned us into oncoming traffic given that Americans drove on the wrong side of the bleeding road. We talked about her upbringing and mine.
Together, we pieced together our home in the bright apartment and planned for a future one after her initial one-year lease was up. At Lia's insistence, I didn't pay more than half of the rent, but I told her I got to make the deposit on our next home.
And now, a week beyond where our little watermelon was supposed to make its appearance, we were quite preoccupied with hastening their entrance into the world.
Spicy food hadn't worked.
Neither had long walks.
And so far, the sheer maneuverability of sex was becoming an issue, if that was supposed to help.
I kissed the side of her breast, and Lia stretched herself out fully with a soft sigh.
"Still doubt me?"
"Entirely." She exhaled. "I'm huge."
"You're perfect," I murmured into the slope of her shoulder, just as I eased behind her. "Lift your leg over mine, love."
"Shit."
I froze. "No leg? Shall we try standing in the bathroom like last night?" My thumbs coasted lightly over her chest because I knew how sensitive she was, but she smacked my hands away. My eyebrows lifted. "Or not, that's fine."
Lia looked over her shoulder at me, eyes wide. "Either I've lost all bladder function and I just ... peed a little, or my water just broke."
Blinking, I glanced down. "You ..."
Lia sat up. "I think maybe I should put some clothes on." Then a brilliant smile dawned on her face. "And maybe you should too, champ. Nice work." She held out a hand for a high five.
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