Total pages in book: 167
Estimated words: 157175 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 786(@200wpm)___ 629(@250wpm)___ 524(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 157175 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 786(@200wpm)___ 629(@250wpm)___ 524(@300wpm)
She nods, the remnants of her amusement still evident in random, short, sharp chuckles as she works to calm her jerky body down. ‘I couldn’t resist,’ she titters as she looks at her accomplice. ‘Thank you.’
‘Yeah, thanks.’ I fire a playful, filthy look across the bed to the rogue sonographer. ‘Where do you make a complaint around here?’
Her face drops, and Ava whacks my arm. ‘Don’t be mean. She was just doing what I told her.’
‘Mr Ward, I’m sorry if—’
I hold a hand up to stop her words and her panic. ‘Don’t sweat it. My wife has a wicked sense of humour.’ I poke Ava in the soft sensitive spot on her hip, making her jolt off the bed with a girlie squeal. ‘You’ll pay for that, lady.’
‘I know.’ Her simple reply makes me smile as she clutches my hand. ‘But now you feel a whole lot better about only having one, don’t you?’
I can’t deny it. I really do, and I beat myself up for a few moments for making her resort to such tactics in an attempt to make me feel better about this unexpected pregnancy. ‘I would have got used to the idea of another three,’ I say, all blasé. I’m lying through my teeth, shuddering at the mere thought. Another three? ‘There is really just one in there, isn’t there?’ I ask the purple-haired joker opposite me.
‘Just one, Mr Ward.’ She goes back to the screen. ‘I’m sorry, but when your wife mentioned your first scan with your twins, it did make me laugh.’ Smiling at the white blip, she starts rolling the ball on the machinery, clicking here and there. ‘Baby, singular, looks perfectly healthy. You’re six weeks into gestation, Mrs Ward.’
‘Can you tell the sex yet?’ I ask, knowing full well it’s way too early.
‘At the twenty-week scan, maybe. Depending on baby’s position.’ The printer to the side kicks in, spitting out pictures of my baby.
‘You don’t want to know, do you?’ Ava asks, a bit disappointed. ‘Why?’
‘Because if it’s a girl, I need as much time as possible to prepare. Buy armour. For her and for me.’
‘Jesse!’ She whacks my arm on an exasperated gasp, and I chuckle, swooping in and crowding her.
I grin, she scowls. ‘I never told you this morning how beautiful you look today.’
‘I never told you how handsome you look today.’
I shrug. ‘A god among men.’ I kiss her delicately. ‘And now I’m taking you home and giving you the king of Retribution Fucks.’
Her eyes widen, glancing to the side, where the sonographer is collecting the pictures from the printer, doing a terrible job of playing ignorant to our light banter. She’s smiling fondly.
‘Wherever, whenever, baby.’ I help wipe up her tummy and get her to her feet, collecting the pictures from Miss Purple Hair before guiding Ava to the door. ‘I hope you’re ready.’
‘Maybe later.’
Huh? My steps stutter behind her. What does she mean, maybe later? I don’t need to ask. She looks over her shoulder, a definite knowing smirk forming. ‘I’m going to yoga and then having coffee with Zara.’
‘I don’t think so.’ It’s out before I can stop it, my declaration hostile, my ego put out.
She rolls her eyes and continues on her way to the exit. It’s condescending as hell, and it only serves to rile me further.
‘You’re not going to yoga.’ I need to rein myself in before she slaps me silly. I should know by now that demanding she not do something just makes her all the more determined to do it, if only to prove a point, whatever that is. We’ve just shared a lovely moment. I’d planned on taking her home and delivering on that Retribution Fuck, and then picking the kids up from school together. She’s ruining all of my plans. And on top of that, she’s now pregnant. Even more fragile. Even more delicate. Yoga is a stupid idea. Besides, I’m not letting her out of my fucking sight. ‘No way, Ava.’
‘Piss off, Jesse.’ She pushes through the doors into the sunshine, leaving me a heaving, bristling pile of male standing like an idiot in the hospital entrance.
‘You’re not going!’ I yell, earning startled looks from many passers-by. I growl at each of them in turn before stalking out, muttering and cursing under my breath. ‘Ava!’
‘I’m not arguing with you,’ she calls over her shoulder. ‘So you may as well quit. I’m going. End of.’
End of? ‘That’s my line,’ I bark childishly, catching her and blocking her path to the passenger door. I push my back up against the car as she stares at me tiredly. ‘I don’t think yoga is a good idea in your condition.’
‘I’ve checked with the doctor. It’s actually a very good idea.’
Damn. Okay, then. ‘I don’t think you should be out and about on your own.’