Page 112 of Love Thief

Pushing the covers down to below my tummy, I place my hands on my very large stomach. “Hi my babies,” I coo. “Are you up and about, or are you sleeping in later than your mama?” Inhaling deeply as I rub circles on my stomach, I chastise my overactive imagination. Today it’s brought me Kellen’s scent.

My sense of smell has gone crazy, with foods triggering me to feel sick, certain perfumes driving me away, and pickle smells pulling me in to eat them. It’s a weird pregnancy thing. “I can smell your daddy,” I tell the babies. “He smells so nice, you’ll love it when he comes.”

I hear the gasp and sit bolt upright in bed.

He’s here.

“Kellen, what the hell?”

I sit, staring at him. I will not cry, I will not cry.

“Where did you come from?”

“America.” His cocky grin nearly fools me, but I look at his eyes—he is terrified.

Standing from the armchair he’s clearly been sitting in for a while, he hovers at the end of the bed, staring at my now fully on show body, my stomach huge.

Can I touch them?” He croaks out gently. His eyes close as he waits for my response, he’s shuttering the shame I see there. His face is etched with pain, but underneath, I see hope, so much hope. It brings tears to my eyes as I nod my response.

I swing my legs to the side of the bed, and sit there, waiting for him.

Moving around the bed to stand in front of me, he traces his hands over my stomach, not actually touching my skin. His face is a mask of concentration, his breath coming in shallow pants.

I reach out, tentatively, my heart aching, my bees swarming in my stomach. Taking his hand in mine, so warm, the calluses on his fingers feel amazing, I put it to my lower abdomen.

“They’re here at the minute. They move around, usually more at night. I think they’re asleep now.”

He looks at me in wonder, and caresses my stomach. “Evie,” he breathes out, so quietly I only just catch it.

“I’ve tried to keep them safe for you,” I tell him, and the tears start. Both his and mine. “I called you, Kell. So many times. I needed you with me.”

“I know, baby, but I didn’t get the messages. I’ll tell you why later, but know I never got them. I would have come sooner, I would have.”

He leans forward and kisses me, so gently. He breathes me in, moving his face all around mine, not just touching me, but relearning.

“I missed you, I love you, I’m so sorry, so, so, sorry. I wasn’t strong enough then. I let fear and hurt take over. I was weak. But I’m here now, and I want to stay, if you’ll let me, if you’ll have me.”

I nod at him through my tears.

“Words, Kitten, words,” he coaxes.

“Yes, I’ll have you, I want you with me. With us.”

He kisses me long, deep, our bodies responding to each other, mine waking up with a vengeance. His touch is everywhere, lips everywhere, but I stop him.

“I need the loo. These babies are sitting on my bladder. There’s no romance in pregnancy, it’s hard,” I tell him, trying to laugh but choking on it.

He rocks back on his heels and stands, pulling me up with him. And as I move slowly past him, I can see his eyes ogling my body, his mouth open in amazement at the size.

“The pictures James sent don’t do you justice. Those babies are big.” I laugh as I go into the bathroom, leaving him gaping and shaking his head in the bedroom.

I look longingly at the shower. I really need one, I get so hot in the night, my dual heaters turning up the boiler.

He comes and stands at the door as I’m on the loo, and it’s my turn to shake my head. “I know I said there was no dignity in pregnancy or childbirth, but do you have to stand there?”

He nods. “I’m not moving from your side, so get used to it.” Walking right past me on the toilet, he leans into the open shower and turns it on. “Do you want it hot or cool?” he asks, focusing on me as he starts to strip.

“Warm,” I say, staring at him. Oh god, that body. My hormones are on full power now and I think they may go for the afterburners at this rate.

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