Page 53 of The Little Black Rose

“Do we want to know the sex?” Dr. Kohatsu asks, and both Ava and I nod vigorously.

“They’re being very cooperative, so I’ve already noted it, but let me show you. Baby A…” she says, sliding the wand over Ava’s stomach again and pointing to the screen at a notch between two legs that looks like a small coffee bean, “…is a girl.”

My eyes fill with tears, and when I look at Ava, hers are already spilling down her cheeks even though she’s laughing. My heart swells as it pounds against my breastbone, feeling like it might explode at any moment.

A girl. I have a daughter.

“And Baby B,” Dr. Kohatsu goes on, sliding the wand over a bit and pointing at the screen, “is also a girl.”

“Two girls,” I say, hearing the reverence in my own voice.

I’m in awe. I know most dads-to-be long for sons, but I can honestly say I never had a preference. My daughters are healthy and perfect, and I can’t wait to spoil them rotten.

The doctor presses a button and a strip of pictures prints out of the machine. She congratulates us and tells us to take as long as we need, but we’re free to go whenever we’re ready. Once she leaves, I cup Ava’s face in my hands and press my forehead to hers.

“Thank you for this miracle,” I whisper, then give her a soft, tender kiss.

When I pull back, she shakes her head and laughs through her tears. “We’re not naming them Bertha and Bessie.”

“Well, then, we’re striking Bernice and Denise off the list, too,” I quip back, brushing the tears from her cheeks gently.

“We’re having girls,” she says softly, her voice filled with wonder before her face pinches. “We’re in for so much trouble when they become teenagers.”

I chuckle and shake my head. “If anyone can handle two wild girls, it’s you. You’re going to be an amazing mom.”

“Thank you for saying that,” she says, looking genuinely touched.

“Come on. Let’s go home,” I say, taking her hand and helping her off the table. “I need to get you alone so I can thank you properly for my daughters.”

We stop for dinner and chat excitedly the whole time about our girls and what they might look like. Will they be blonde, like me? Or have their mother’s raven hair and dark eyes? Will they look alike, or be totally different in appearance and personality. We both say we don’t care, but I kind of hope they have Ava’s dark beauty and feisty attitude.

As soon as I get her back to the house, I lead her to her bedroom and strip her slowly. Dropping to my knees, I press my cheek to her belly before pressing a kiss to the spot, whispering to my girls that I love them.

Standing, I strip down and pull Ava onto the bed. There are no demands this time, only an equal give and take as we slowly pleasure each other. By the time I push inside her, she’s wet and ready, her inner walls hugging my cock tightly as I roll my hips.

When we finish, I drop beside her and she snuggles against me, falling asleep almost instantly. I stare at the ceiling, confusion and a dash of fear rolling through me. This felt…different, but I can’t quite put my finger on the reason why.

Then it hits me. We didn’t just fuck, chasing our release to the finish line. No. Wemade love. It was sweet and tender and everything I’ve been trying to avoid every time I’ve slept with her.

Fuck.

My heart speeds up, pounding in my chest as that trickle of fear turns into a flash flood. I can’t let this happen. I can’t let my walls down, and I can’t lead Ava on, letting her think we can ever be more than this.

Keeping my movements slow and gentle, I disentangle her from my body and slide off the mattress. I stare at her beautiful face for a few beats, then drop my head. Gathering up my clothes, I head back to my own room for the night.

This…whatever we’ve been doing…is over. We need to focus on the babies and being the best parents we can be. That’s all.

Nothing more.

Chapter26

It’s Too fucking Late

Ava

Iwatch Zeke leave through slitted eyes. He thinks I fell asleep, but how could I when he was so rigidly tense beside me? I wanted to ask him what was going on in his head, but before I could form the words, he was sliding away from me.

The action felt as metaphorical as it was physical. We’ve slept in the same bed every night for three weeks. So, why leave tonight?

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