Page 29 of Amor Prohibido

Climbing out of my truck and moving around to the passenger side to open the door for her, I held J’s elbow as we walked to the house in case the path was slippery. I didn’t want her to slip and hurt herself… or the baby.

We didn’t bother knocking, and the smell of Mum’s homemade bread hit us as soon as I followed J into the house. Her low moan of appreciation triggered a dormant memory, instantly transporting me back to when she made the same sound as I slid my fingers through her arousal.

“What? Do I have something on my face?”

Her question snapped me back to the present, and I swear I blushed ten shades of aubergine. In an attempt to hide my discomposure, I bent to unlace my boots while assuring her that her face was nothing but absolutely perfect.

Mum was upon us a moment later. “Jax—what a wonderful surprise! How are you, hon?” she asked, squeezing the life out of J and my baby.

My baby!

My heart leaped into my throat as I rolled the thought around my mind again.

“Good thanks, Kath. How are you?” Jax stepped out of Mum’s grasp, then bent to remove her own boots.

“Good, honey, good.”

“Hi, Mumzie.” I pecked her cheek. “You made buns?”

“Oh yes. And chicken soup, as per your request. And I made heaps, so I hope you two are hungry. You could do with some meat on your bones, Jax, honey.” Mum eyed J as she removed her puffer jacket.

I swear I heard her mutter, “Give it three months,” under her breath as Ma continued her motherly assessment.

“You’re not sick, are you, dear? You’re looking a tad on the pale side.”

Mum wasn’t far off the mark; J did look thinner and paler than her usual self. Her eyes didn’t sparkle quite as much and there were noticeable dark circles under them.

Jax glanced at me before answering. “I’m okay. A little hungry, though.”

“Of course. Come on through. Kip is practically pacing the kitchen in hunger too.” Mum chuckled as I shot Jax a look.

Placing a hand on her lower back without running it lower like I wanted to, I guided her to the dining room. Our impending chat with my parents weighed heavily on my mind and distracted me during the entire meal. Once we were done eating, I helped Dad clear the dishes, then found Mum and Jax in the living room, chatting about flowers.

The day Jax told me she wanted to work in a flower shop, I laughed in her face. Here I thought she would become a stunt woman, or storm chaser, or a fucking snake venom milker; something with a side of danger. So, when she announced she wanted to be a florist, it seemed totally out of character for the wee extremist.

Sitting on the ottoman at J’s feet, I took a deep breath and declared to my parents that I had something important to share.

“Do you want me to leave?” Jax whispered, her eyes begging me to say yes.

“Hell no. Stay where you are.”

Her presence reassured me more than she realised, and I needed it. Mum and Dad divided their concerned glances between the two of us.

I ignored J’s pout and cleared my throat. “So, you know how you guys want grandchildren…”

I paused to gauge their reactions. Dad’s eyes had widened, and he leaned forward in his seat. Mum’s mouth fell slack and her hands froze halfway to her face.

“…Come March you’ll have one.”

Mum gasped and jumped to her feet at the same time Dad fell back into the armchair cushions. Their barrage of questions followed after a beat of shocked silence.

“We’re going to begrandparents?We didn’t even know you were dating! Who? Can we meet her?Is this a joke?”

Mum’s last question was angry, and her body language mirrored that emotion. Had it been any other time or situation, I would have laughed at her glaring suspiciously at me with her hands planted on her hips. However, this time, I shook my head and forged on.

“No, Mum, it’s not a joke. There’s a baby due in March and I’m the… the father.”

It was the first time I admitted my f-status out loud, and I literally had to force the word off my tongue.

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