Baby Wars: A Roomie Wars Novella Book 3

by Kat T. Masen

  It catches my eye today, a brochure sticking out of the corner of a People magazine advertising a small resort an hour away. This is exactly what Zoey needs—a babymoon. Just the two of us. Okay, call me selfish, but this is exactly what I need before I sacrifice my wife to motherhood, and our lives will be nothing but dirty diapers and sleepless nights.

  The photos paint a picture of an idyllic getaway—palm trees lining the property, perfect sunset, and a large resort-style swimming pool. They offer couples’ massages, full buffet breakfast, lunch, and dinner, plus nightly entertainment outside in the gardens.

  “There were no such things as babymoons in our day,” Dorothy utters while slicing the carrot cake she brought from home. “You carried the baby, you gave birth, then repeat.”

  Margaret, another nurse, nods in agreement. “We didn’t even have daycare centers. If you needed to work, you had to find help in the neighborhood or go on welfare.”

  “And none of these iPads to keep the kids busy,” Dorothy adds.

  These ladies often test my patience. While their hearts are in the right place, they tend to complain about everything. If I had a dollar for every time they start a sentence with, “Back in my day…” I’d be a rich man.

  Chief Arnold walks into the room greeting the ladies before requesting I join him in his office. Dorothy and Margaret are silently eating their cake, hiding their curious stares behind their over-sized mugs. I’m not sure what this is about but know I’ll get the third degree the moment I come back.

  Following him down the corridor, up one level and down another corridor, he closes the door behind us and asks me to take a seat. Chief Arnold is a minimalist—his large oak desk is clear of paperwork which is stacked neatly in folders behind him. The only thing on his desk is his computer and a photo of his wife and three daughters.

  “Doctor Baldwin, tell me, how are things?”

  I have no idea why he called me in because when he has done so in the past, it wasn’t for a friendly chat. There’s usually something behind it.

  “Busy. My wife is expecting our twins soon.”

  “I heard,” he responds with a comforting smile, easing my worries, slightly. “Now, the reason why I called you here is that I have a friend, a close family friend who I’ve known for years, contact me regarding an opening at a hospital.”

  This isn’t the first time I have been approached, and while moving isn’t in the cards for us right now, I’m always open to hearing new opportunities.

  “The government has a new project with approved funds to help build the new cardiac wing. It will be a fantastic opportunity for you, and a step up from your position here. You would step into the position as head of CCU.”

  Taking a deep breath, my mind begins to wander to the possibility of taking on such a high position. Head of CCU is what I’ve been working toward, but this isn’t the time to be taking on more responsibility. Zoey needs me. The babies need me.

  “I know what you’re thinking,” Chief Arnold asserts, adjusting his round frames while trying to focus. “You’re about to bring two babies into the world. How could you possibly take this on?”

  “Yes,” I admit, trying to compose my thoughts.

  “The hospital is prepared to take care of your family… rent for twelve months and travel expenses to cover all of you. The hospital is located in a rural part of the country, so your hours will actually be less than you work now.”

  I can’t believe the offer. It sounds too good to be true. Just my luck, though. I can’t shake the timing thing from my mind.

  Without sounding cocky, I want to know why they are offering me such a generous package.

  “Why me? There’re other surgeons here, too.”

  “You’re exactly what they need… intelligent, hardworking, and compassionate. You’ll be working with a smaller population, and they want someone who will invest in the people. You’re the right fit. I’ve seen you work, son. You’re a rare breed.”

  “I’ll have to discuss this with my wife,” I tell him.

  Chief Arnold leans back into his leather chair, swinging back and forth. “There’s just one catch…”

  Of course, there is. Strings attached to the golden carrot dangling in front of me.

  “The hospital is located in Queensland, Australia.”

  My brain stutters for a moment. Every part of me goes into pause mode while my thoughts catch up. Australia. This is where I grew up, my home before we moved here. It was Dad’s home and was always a part of him.

  “When do you need to know by?” I question Chief Arnold. “And when would we have to move?”

  “Chief Watson needs an answer by the end of next month. The hospital will be opening the new wing just before Christmas.” Chief Arnold stands, extending his hand which I cordially shake. “Go home, talk to your wife, and I will await your answer.”

  “This view is amazing.”

  Zoey is standing at the window staring intently at the breathtaking views. Not too far in the distance, the ocean laps at the sand leaving its white foam to trail the waves as they retreat.

  From behind, I wrap my arms around her body, bringing her close to me. My nose, nuzzled in hair, inhales her intoxicating scent making me forget all about our troubles and worries back home and spending these moments focusing on us.

  “This is just what I need…” She turns around, her stomach in between us letting out a loud grumble. “How about we grab some lunch then a dip in the pool?”

  We opt to have lunch at the café by the pool, grabbing something light though enough to keep us until dinner.

  I’m glad Zoey jumped at the chance to go on this short trip—two days to be exact—which is all we can swing because of work. There’s just so much to do before the babies come, though I’ve never let on that I’m just as panicked about the time as she is.

  Stay calm, cool, and collected.

  That’s my motto.

  We continue to relax while people watching—something the both of us love doing. Surrounding us are plenty of childless couples, many with mimosas and various cocktails in their hands. A few kids play in the pool, but nobody is too noisy that could take away from the serenity.

  As the sun begins to shift the heat becomes too much for Zoey, and wanting to cool down she suggests we go change into our swimsuits for a relaxing dip in the pool.

  Back in the room, Zoey walks out of the bathroom wearing her black one-piece costume.

  “I look like a hippo in a tutu.” Placing her hands on her hips with a flash of annoyance, she adjusts her tits so they’re covered properly. “What was I thinking buying a one-piece with this frilly skirt to hide my hippo ass.”

  I laugh but not because she resembles a hippo. “You look beautiful and pregnant.”

  “I wonder what a hippo looks like pregnant?”

  “Enough with the hippos. Let’s swim.”

  Zoey loves the water, floating and easing her back pain from carrying the babies. We don’t dare go in the spa as I worry that the temperature will be too much. Zoey is well into her third trimester, and at thirty-four weeks, the babies can come at any time. Twin pregnancies have a higher rate of early labor.

  “I want to live in a resort, drink cocktails every day, and just read.” She sighs, dreamily.

  “You say that now, but you’ll get bored. You’ll crave the city life.”

  Zoey raises herself from the water, her darkened short hair resting on her shoulders. “How do I know if I never try it?”

  “You spent your single life going from the apartment to work… that’s it. You had every opportunity to go live in a resort. Now it’s time for us to settle down.”

  “Um, firstly, I did that stint in London. You can’t say I’ve done nothing. And second, just because we decide to stay somewhere with the babies, doesn’t mean we have to settle there. I hate it when clients want to build their dream home. It’s called dream home for now. Your dreams are constantly evolving. Your dream now may not be your dream to
morrow.”

  “Okay, I’ll give you that. But Zo, we need to get serious here. The apartment is small, and it’ll be fine until the babies start crawling. We need to think about our next step.”

  I’m desperate to bring up the job offer in Australia, but timing is everything with Zoey. Now is not the time. I just want her to relax and enjoy this mini-vacation.

  “You want to move back to the house?” Zoey asks.

  “I don’t know. I’m just saying we’ll have to think about schools. Where do we want to raise our kids? What kind of life do we want for them?”

  Zoey avoids all eye contact splashing her legs in the pool.

  “It’s getting hot, and I’m getting tired. Think I’ll head back to the room for a nap.”

  “Okay, let’s go.”

  “No, you stay. You’re enjoying it. I’ll just have a quick nap and join you back here in an hour. We can take a walk along the marina and maybe stop for dinner somewhere.”

  Zoey’s nap turns into an afternoon hibernation. After an hour, I make my way back to the room. The sun has toasted me, producing a nice tan. Entering the room quietly, Zoey is tucked into the sheets, laying on her side and snoring. I don’t want to interrupt her, so I take a long shower enjoying the water on my muscles. After changing into a pair of shorts and polo, I walk back into the room to hear her stir.

  “Drew.”

  I sit beside her, moving a strand of hair away from her eye.

  “What time is it?”

  “A little after five.”

  She sits up fast, confused and still in a tired state. “Why did you let me sleep this long?”

  “You were tired and looked so peaceful. Relax, please. We’re in no rush to go anywhere,” I hush.

  Her hands reach for my collar pulling me toward her as the edge of her lips find mine. The slow, sensual taste of her lips caress my own, stirring every inch of my body.

  “I want to make love to you. I want to feel you everywhere. I miss you, and I just want a taste of it. Please just go slow.”

  I understand what we both need, and my problem will be holding back and not blowing in zero point two seconds. But as we both lie here, almost naked, I gently caress her tits just the way she likes.

  Removing her bra, her chest releases—incredibly large with veins protruding around her nipple. Everything about her has changed, but I don’t mind. I struggle with holding back my desire and trying to talk myself into being gentle.

  The few times we have managed to have sex, we both found it more comfortable if I slid in behind her, both of us lying on our sides. Positioning myself behind her, I grab my dick in my hands slowly tugging on it before sliding myself in. She’s incredibly tight. With every move I make, I listen to her body and the pitch of her moan making sure she’s comfortable. When her breathing slows down, I slow down, not wanting to cause her any pain, but as soon as her skin prickles in delight I know she’s close, and in one perfect move she will explode all over me.

  “I’m close,” she moans, breathless.

  Running my fingers along her lips, she bites down before tightening up around my dick and letting out a long-winded moan. I can’t hold back any longer, my willpower disappearing the moment she explodes all over me.

  My normally aggressive thrust is controlled, the slow, agonizing pace making me blow so quickly I’m barely able to breathe.

  Our pants, loud and consuming, echo in our quiet room.

  “That was amazing.”

  I kiss the tip of her shoulder. “It always is with you.”

  Zoey releases a loud sigh, smiling contently as we both lay quietly.

  “Are you thinking what I’m thinking?” she asks, grinning.

  “Round two?”

  Her laughter ripples, breaking out into an unwarranted cough. “Such an optimistic husband you are. I was thinking of something naughtier…”

  “Naughtier than my dick inside you?”

  She nods, giggling. “Yep… room service.”

  Zoey

  Whoever invented babymooning is a genius.

  After spending the afternoon in bed and experiencing a long-overdue orgasm, we order room service and spend the remainder of the night in our room.

  I don’t hold back when it comes to ordering—hot wings, fries, double-stacked burger, and a bunch of healthy crap for Drew. It works wonders, knocking me out for hours for the longest nonstop sleep I’ve had in months.

  Four hours. Until the babies played hacky-sack on my bladder.

  Drew booked our stay for two nights. Between his hectic schedule and back-to-back surgeries and my insane workload due to wrapping up some major projects, we both jumped at the chance for this mini-getaway.

  At thirty-four weeks, time is of the essence. The obstetrician warned me that the twins can come earlier, so in a panic I did something I normally wouldn’t do—I made a list of everything I need to do or achieve before the babies arrive. The list is three pages long, and I only manage to cross off four things.

  “Show me the list.” Drew took the list out of my hand. “Scrub bathtub. Really, Zo?”

  “Yes, where are we going to bathe the babies?”

  “You can cross it off your list since I scrub the bathtub weekly.”

  “You do?” Shocked, I grab the list from him scanning for similar tasks. “What about cleaning the back of the fridge? The amount of dirt that builds up behind there is quite sickening.”

  Drew places his hands on his face, groaning in frustration. “You’ve known me for what? Over five years? Give me a break.”

  I nod, running the pen along the words ‘clean behind fridge’ to cross it off.

  “Now, stop fixating on that list, and let’s get out of this room.”

  After checking out some brochures which the resort kindly left in our room, we decide to head out and visit a local gallery, followed by lunch at this gorgeous café in the gallery gardens, and then window shopping at some antique shops. Drew never complains allowing me to browse through the stores as he keeps himself busy chatting with the shop assistants. The man can talk about anything. It always amazes me how he can strike up a conversation with a random stranger. He’s like a walking encyclopedia.

  As much as shopping is fun, and there are a couple of pieces that piqued my interest, my head isn’t entirely in it. I don’t last long these days, the exhaustion setting in after two hours of walking around. By the time we get back to the room, I decide to take a nap while Drew hits the gym.

  Dozing in and out of sleep, the mattress suddenly becomes uncomfortable—my back aching in this one particular spot. When I finally get settled, my heartburn kicks in, forcing me to sit up and take some non-medicated tablets.

  I’m done.

  Bored, tired, and wanting to leave these four walls, Drew suggests we head out to the marina for the night.

  The marina is only a block away, a manageable walk for me and my swollen feet. The main drag stretches out for a mile, and beside the bustling restaurants and nightlife, several yachts line the decked pathway.

  There’s a large, sparkling white yacht titled The Beaumont. It’s the biggest one docked, lit up with loud music blaring from the upper deck. It also happens to be the one full of bikini-clad women.

  I laugh, squeezing Drew’s hand. “I bet you they’re going to have an orgy.”

  “Probably.” He shrugs his shoulders. “What else is there to do on a yacht with one old guy and five young chicks?”

  “How would he even rotate them, you know? He looks like he’s pushing eighty.” I cringe at the thought. The man is wearing a sea captain’s hat and barely able to swing his hips to the beat. “Jesus, can he even get it up?”

  “We’re about to eat dinner. Please don’t talk to me about some old dude getting it up. I’d like to enjoy the expensive meal.”

  “I miss having sex.” Sighing loudly, my gaze travels toward the perfect night sky.

  Drew stops mid-step, demanding I do the same. “Excuse me? You can have sex anytime
. In fact, let’s go back to the room now because I’ve been hard since yesterday’s session.”

  With a playful slap on his toned arm, I add, “You know what I mean. I just miss being skinny, being able to throw my body around and actually orgasm repeatedly.”

  “When did you ever throw your body around? You’re the laziest person I know. Trying to get you on top is always a mission,” he teases.

  “Every time you stick your dick in me, I feel uncomfortable, and then one of the babies start kicking so that ruins everything. What about when the babies are born? We’ll have the bassinette in our room, and they can see and watch us.”

  “Zo, they can’t see for the first few months. They can detect light and motion but don’t have clear vision like we do. Please stop talking about this.”

  We stop in front of a restaurant called Fisherman Joe’s Love Shack. With the Zydeco music playing inside and families lining up, we decide to try the place out.

  Drew and his charm manage to get us a table near the window. The view is gorgeous with a sea breeze cooling the area, and while the restaurant is crowded there’s this upbeat vibe for a Thursday night.

  With the menu in hand, I scan the options and struggle to make a choice. “Everything looks mouth-watering.”

  “No seafood,” Drew scolds.

  “What? Why?”

  “It’s not good for the babies. The risk of contamination with salmonella which can cause developmental delays and—”

  The young waitress arrives at our table pulling out her tablet and requesting our order. Her timing is perfect. Drew can talk your ear off about Salmonella poisoning.

  “Fine…” I whine, “… I’ll have the rack of ribs, fries, onion rings, and Caesar salad.”

  “I’ll have the rib-eye steak and side salad,” Drew adds to my order.

  “Um, could you bring out some sauces?” I ask.

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  Nothing makes you feel more like an aging grandma than being called ma’am.

  “Oh…” I wonder out loud. “What about bread rolls?”