Total pages in book: 235
Estimated words: 227851 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1139(@200wpm)___ 911(@250wpm)___ 760(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 227851 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1139(@200wpm)___ 911(@250wpm)___ 760(@300wpm)
I jump up, hitting her back, probably harder than I should. “Fucking hell, woman.” I check her face. Still red. And then she’s gasps, deflating, and I deflate with her. “Slow down,” I say, my heart going ten to the dozen. “It’s not going to walk off your plate.” I made sure of that.
She heaves and wheezes, hand on her chest. “I’m okay.” She chuckles a little, like this is funny? “Went down the wrong way.”
Don’t tell me I’ll have to actually feed her, as well as make wise food choices for her. “Here.” I confiscate her cutlery and give her some water. “Drink.”
“Thank you,” she breathes, supping it back urgently. And then her cheeks balloon, a little dribbles from the corner, and I stand back, seeing what’s coming. Water shoots far and wide, mostly all over the boys, who bolt up, while Kate remains on her arse, laughing it off.
“Fucking hell, Ava.” I dab at her face, the table. “What the hell is wrong with you?” Has someone given her some laughing gas?
“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” She chuckles, and finally, after a few more moments of jerking and snorting, settles down.
“Are you okay?”
“I’m sorry,” she says again. “I don’t know what’s”—laugh—“wrong with me.”
My eyes follow her hand as it collects her knife and fork and she starts calmly working her way through the rest of her dinner, oblivious to the concern around the table. At least from me and the boys. Kate’s still fucking grinning. I cock my head at her. She shrugs.
“Is this what pregnancy does to women?” Sam asks, amused.
“It’s better than mood swings,” Kate adds.
I snort. Fear not, Kate, we have those too.
“Yeah, let me know when they start,” Drew says. “I can handle being spat at, but I’m not up for a tongue-lashing.”
Ava coughs again, and I’m about to go all Heimlich on her, but she pulls in a breath and continues calmly with her dinner until the plate is spotless.
“I take it you’re done?”
She hums her satisfaction, sated, and collapses back. “That was heaven.”
“Yeah, we can see.” Drew looks at me in astonishment. I’m with him. I’ve never seen her tuck food away so ravenously. His phone rings on the table, and he swipes it up swiftly, making everyone at the table pause and look at him. “Sales call,” he mutters, hitting the screen to reject the call before getting up and wandering across the bar toward Natasha.
“Say your goodbyes, lady,” I order. It’s been a long-arse day and I’ve shared her enough. “It’s getting late.” I give Sam a telling look that he completely ignores as Ava kisses each of them in farewell.
“Gathered yourself together now, Mrs. Ward?” I ask as I walk her out, amused.
“You knew, didn’t you?” She peeks up at me, her cheeks still flushed from her laughing fit. Or could be our Compromise Fuck. Or a combination of both.
Knew? “About what?”
“About Kate, Sam, and Drew.”
Oh, fuck me. Kate’s told her? Is that what had her laughing hysterically and nearly choking on her dinner? “Is that what you were laughing about? She told you?”
“Yes. Why didn’t you tell me?”
I laugh on the inside. “And give you something else to get your knickers in a twist over?”
“I wouldn’t have,” she says, indignant. We both know that’s a load of crap. “Shall I take my giant snowball?”
I roll my eyes. “No, you’re coming with me.” I get her in, buckle her up, and get behind the wheel.
As I cruise down the driveway, I notice her hand on her stomach. Protectiveness. She’s doing it without thinking. Instinct. I know she didn’t plan for this. I know she doesn’t need an enhanced control freak. But as I’ve told her so many times now that I have her in my life, I need a certain amount of control. Crave it. Feel stable with it.
I just wish she knew the true reasons behind my quirks.
But the problem remains . . .
I don’t want her to doubt me as a husband.
Or a father.
22
She fought it, but she drifted off on the way home. I carry her into Lusso, trying and failing to smile at the new concierge. “Mr. Ward,” he says, hurrying out from behind his desk. “Let me call the elevator for you.”
“Thanks.” I hold back for him to access the keypad, but his finger stalls over the buttons. “Three, two, one, zero,” I mutter. He looks back on a frown. He probably thinks that’s the most uncreative code on the planet. How wrong he is. “Anytime today.” I nod to my wife in my arms, currently clinging to my neck. I know she’s awake now. She could walk. But I also know she loves me carting her around.
“Of course.” He punches in the code and the doors slide open, then he holds the door until I’m in with Ava. “I’m on the nightshift until Clive arrives at nine, Mr. Ward, so anything you need, you know where to find me.” He enters the code again and steps out, tipping his hat.