“Yes, boss,” I mutter, giving my eyelashes one last coat of mascara. I put the wand back in, screw on the cap, and drop it in my makeup bag.
I don’t know why I’m bothering putting makeup on. It’s only going to come off at the spa.
I leave the bathroom in just my underwear, fastening in my earrings. “My shadow will indeed be picking Simone up, while my fat ass sits in the car.”
“You’re not fat, you’re pregnant. Hot, sexy pregnant. Come here.” He beckons to me with his finger.
I approach Jake, who’s sitting on the edge of the bed in his boxer shorts. I stand between his legs.
He places his hands on either side of my swollen tummy and kisses it.
Tilting his face, he looks up at me. I rest my hands against his cheeks.
“Stay home with me today,” he murmurs.
“I can’t. Simone and I have had this spa day booked for ages, and she goes back to London in a few days. Anyway, you’re going into the studio today.”
He turns his face away. Pressing his cheek against my pregnant belly, he lets out a sigh.
I run my fingers through his bed hair. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.”
“Jake…” I urge him to look at me.
“I dunno,” he says with a shrug. “I just have a weird feeling.”
“What kind of feeling?” I sit beside him on the bed.
I don’t like the look in his eyes.
My heart jumps in my chest, making my pulse thrum.
Then, lightning-quick, Jake pulls me down on the bed, trapping my legs with his. He pins my arms above my head and kisses me, his whole demeanour instantly changing to relaxed.
“I just have a feeling you should stay in bed with me.” He runs his tongue lightly over my lower lip. “You taste minty,” he murmurs.
“The power of toothpaste.” I nip his lip with my teeth. I hate when he hides things from me.
“Someone’s snarky this morning.”
“Someone’s evading.”
He looks directly into my eyes. Vivid blues burn into my brown.
“I’m not evading.” His voice is controlled, measured, but harsh. “I just wanted to spend the day in bed with you. But maybe, snarky, you should go out before we have a fight neither of us wants.”
“I’m sorry,” I sigh. “I don’t mean to be. I’m just tired. The baby is so wriggly. I haven’t had a full night’s sleep in so long.”
Releasing my pinned arms, Jake moves down to my tummy. “Let your mama sleep,” he says. “If she’s moody and tired, Daddy doesn’t get any.”
“Jake! Don’t say sex things to the baby!”
“Don’t interrupt, beautiful. This is a father-and-son talk,” he teases.
He glances up at me through his long black lashes. Just like that, the almost-fight is gone.
“You’re so sure we’re having a boy.” I run my fingertips down his cheek.
We didn’t find out the sex of the baby at the five-month scan. We both agreed we wanted to wait until the birth.
“Sweetheart, the baby keeps you up all night, it’s definitely a boy.” He winks.
“You’re incorrigible!” I giggle.
“Just how you like me,” he whispers over my skin. Moving up my body, he runs his tongue lightly around the edge of my bra and presses a kiss there.
The sensation tickles down my body. Then the baby kicks me, hard.
I wince.
Seriously, it hurts so much sometimes that I expect bruises. I think I’m carrying a minihulk in there.
“You okay?” Jake asks, concerned.
“Yeah fine, the baby’s just kicking.” I take his hand and place it on the spot where our little ninja is going for it.
Smoothing his hand over my stomach, he rests his cheek against my breasts and starts to softly sing Guns N’ Roses’ “Don’t Cry.”
Our baby has a penchant for old rock songs. It’s the only thing that settles him.
Him. Jake’s even got me saying it.
I’ve tried playing Jake’s music when he isn’t around, but it doesn’t stop the baby’s marathon kicking sessions. Apparently, the baby will only settle for the live, acoustic renditions of Jake singing old rock songs.
Which has made for some interesting evenings.
Jake goes all out, wearing leather pants and playing his old Strat—when Jake does something, he does it to the max. And it always ends in us having seriously hot sex.
We lie together until Jake finishes the song. With the baby now settled, I get up from the bed and go to get dressed.
I’m in the dressing area, tying my black maternity wrap dress, when Jake comes in.
He pulls on his black pyjama pants, then comes up behind me, sliding his arms around my bump. He nuzzles my neck. “You want some breakfast?”
“Cereal.”
“Okay.” He places a kiss on my neck and gives my bum a gentle slap before wandering off.
I slip my feet into silver ballet pumps, then grab my black Céline Nano tote that Jake bought me for Christmas and hang it on my shoulder.
I grab my lip gloss from the bathroom and put it in my bag. I get my phone off the nightstand and head for the kitchen.
When I get there, I find Jake, Stuart, and Dave around the breakfast bar.
Ah, my men.
My heart. My best friend. My bodyguard. Just missing my dad, and I’d have the complete set of important men in my life.