Total pages in book: 15
Estimated words: 13595 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 68(@200wpm)___ 54(@250wpm)___ 45(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 13595 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 68(@200wpm)___ 54(@250wpm)___ 45(@300wpm)
“I do love you,” I tell him. “And I love this little one, but pregnancy sucks.”
“Then we’ll be happy with one child.” He kisses the side of my neck and rushes up the stairs. “I don’t want you to suffer through this again.” His words melt away the rest of my unease. “Now, let me see if I can make you feel better. At least for the next few hours.”
When my husband sets his mind to something, boy does he ever do a good job. His enthusiastic lovemaking exhausts me so much, I don’t even get up to pee in the middle of the night.
The next morning, I’m sitting on the edge of the tub watching him shave. “I think you need to love me to sleep every night. That was the best night of sleep I’ve had since we found out about the baby.”
“We can definitely arrange that.” Hawk looks back at me in the mirror. “I live to make you happy.” He smiles at me and my heart melts. Our relationship might’ve been fast, but so was my parents’ and they’ve been together forever.
“I love you.” I walk up and press myself to his naked back.
“I love you, too.” He spins around and pulls me into his arms. “Now, go lay down and rest while our little bun bakes in your oven.”
“Yes, master,” I growl and turn to storm from the bathroom.
“I’m glad we’re on the same page. You can call me sir or master from now on,” he calls behind me, and I pick up a flipflop to throw at him.
“Not in this lifetime, buster,” I growl from the doorway.
“We’ll work on it.” He walks naked across the bedroom, and my pregnancy hormone-induced sex drive flares up. “Don’t look at me like that,” Hawk groans. “I have an early meeting with the tour coordinator for Pussycat Rebellion.”
“Okay.” I sigh, disappointed I can’t jump his bones. “But I expect you to make it up to me when you get home tonight.”
“It’s a date,” he promises and gives me a kiss before heading out the door. “I’ll get my business out of the way, then come home and work on my Risky Business.” He wiggles his eyebrows and I laugh at his silly expression.
EPILOGUE
TIA
SIX YEARS LATER
I stare down at the pregnancy stick in my hand and groan. My husband is going to flip his shit. After washing my hands, I place the little piece of plastic on the counter and head down to the kitchen. I’ll deal with that later. Right now, I need to make sure my kids don’t have my sister-in-law tied up while they run wild.
I find the kitchen empty and start to worry. Looking out the back door, I breathe a sigh of relief when I see my kids playing in the back yard with Raven sitting on the patio watching them.
I open the sliding door and Raven looks up at me and smirks. “Let me guess. Another positive sign?” I give my head a little nod and walk over to drop down in the chair next to her. “My brother is going to lose his mind.” She blows out her breath. “Have you figured out a way to tell him?”
“Yep.” I glance over at her and laugh. “I’ll wait until he’s in a good mood and drop it on him.” We swore Dana was going to be an only child. Then things happened. My husband and I went away on an anniversary cruise and came home expecting Charles.
Next, we decided to get a little wild and christen the new inground swimming pool. A month later, we found out Amelia and Lily were joining our family. Hawk had a fit and swore he was getting his “shit snipped.” Too bad, we traveled to Hawaii last month to see the last concert in Pussycat Rebellion’s tour, and boom! Another positive test.
“You’re going to singlehandedly repopulate Nashville if you don’t let my brother get snipped,” Raven reminds me that I’m the one who objected to a sharp object going anywhere near my husband’s cock.
“It’s a goal,” I joke, but we both know how much I hate pregnancy. I freaking love being a mother and I wouldn’t give my kids up for anything in the world, but pregnancy sucks.
Later that night, we’re working on getting the kids in bed and I notice the worried look in Hawk’s eyes. “What’s up, little kitten?” he finally asks as we close the twins’ door. “Is everything okay?”
The words ‘I’m pregnant’ sit on the tip of my tongue, but I can’t just blurt them out. My husband is in his early forties, and that’s prime heart attack age.
“Perfect.” I wrap my arms around his waist and give him a little hug. “I’m just tired.”
“Then let’s get you to bed.” He picks me up and heads for our bedroom downstairs. Once we had two kids, we decided to add on to the house and get a downstairs master suite installed to make sure our little ones never had to listen to our enthusiastic sex life.