Page 101 of All for her Forgiveness

"Shhhh, Mommy's here, my love."

I take him out of the crib that Amber had set up for him and sit on the bed with King in my arms, leaning against the headboard. I wait for him to fall asleep, but when I try to put him back in the crib, he starts crying again.

The scene repeats with each attempt, and finally, I give up, just closing my eyes and giving in to sleep as well. But I wake up shortly after and initially think I'm dreaming when I feel my body floating in the air.

I open my eyes and see that Hades has picked us both up at the same time—me in his arms, King in mine—and is walking back to the room we were in before.

"It's better if I spend the night there. He cried, I think because he's not used to the room," I explain, stumbling over my words.

The way the man looks at me leaves me breathless. "I noticed, but your place is with me. There's enough space in the bed for the three of us."

My foolish heart beats like crazy because for such a rough and cold man, Hades is being extremely sensitive in understanding that King needs me and bringing us both to be with him.

He lays me down on the bed as if he's handling a crystal, completely different from the way he made love to me several times during the night.

I position myself sideways, facing King, who continues to cling to my neck like a baby koala bear, and wait for Hades to settle down too. But instead of going around the bed, he lies down behind me, embracing us both.

I tell myself I'll only allow this today because we're in a strange house, but in New York, I'll ask for my own room. Things are happening too fast, and although I'm willing to try, I don't want to give away my heart too quickly.

"Sleep, Kennedy. You're thinking too much. Relax. I'm here, and I'll take care of you like I should have done from the beginning. You're safe, my woman."

As if his words are some kind of spell, I fall asleep almost immediately.

"Mommmyyyyy!"

I sit up, completely groggy, still not opening my eyes. First I stretch out my arm to try to grab the baby monitor, then I’m groping the bed beside me looking for King.

Only when the second "Mommmyyyyy" is heard, accompanied by a giggle, do I realize where the sound is coming from.

I open my eyes and find Hades with his mini-me in one arm and a breakfast tray in the other. He's wearing trousers and a dress shirt, looking more handsome than ever, and when I look at my son, I realize he's dressed in jeans, a polo shirt, and sneakers I don't recognize.

"Good morning," Hades says with his powerful voice, and at the sound of it, my body ignites because I remember everything he said and did to me during the night.

"Mommy, good morning!" King repeats, laughing because he's learned to say "good morning," "good afternoon," and "good night," and finds the expressions the funniest thing in the world, although I doubt he knows their meanings.

"Good morning," I reply awkwardly, thanking God I'm still wearing Hades' shirt. "I don't recognize that outfit he's wearing." I think I sound annoyed because I'm nervous and embarrassed at the same time.

"I sent my staff to buy clothes for the three of us. There was nothing here. Ernest went to your house with bodyguards to pack for you," he says, approaching, and without asking for permission, after placing the tray on the dresser, he leans in to kiss me.

King takes the opportunity to throw himself into my lap, literally.

"You didn't have to bring us food or buy us clothes," I say and then immediately feel like an idiot because I couldn't have walked around naked in Amber's house. "I'm sorry, I'm nervous."

"I thought you might be hungry." He doesn't finish saying what he's thinking, and he doesn't need to. I can understand what he doesn't say:I thought you might be hungry after all the activity during the night.

"I am. Thank you," I say, avoiding looking at him.

"What do you want? There are eggs with bacon and toast. Fruit, juice, coffee, and milk. Yogurt too."

"Are you going to serve me?"

"I think if I bring it to bed, King will make a mess. Apparently, he found it amusing to throw food at himself and me at breakfast."

"I want fruit first, please," I ask. "He's in a phase where he thinks eating is a game," I add defensively.

"It wasn't a criticism. In fact, the mess he made was worth it because he smiled the whole time."

Well, now I feel like a witch.

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