24 1/2 Kisses (A Bashir Family Romance) (10 page)

W
hile he showered and dressed, I called Annika and told her the good news. She was managing fine in the hospital and encouraged me to spend my time with Dev. She would call her mother and set her mind at ease, and perhaps her contrived heart condition would soon rectify itself.

After hanging up, I finished my toast and then took a long, cool shower in the adjoining bathroom. I found one of Dev’s silky robes and put it on, not wanting to wear the sundress again after trudging through the sand and heat in it.

I lay back in his bed and breathed in his scent. I wanted to stay in this bed with him forever. My hand soon found the little bump below my stomach and I caressed it imagining the little person who would soon join us.

Us.

We were together, and my heart was so full I thought it might burst.

I had just one little bit of news left to tell him.

But how?

Dev came into the room wearing long, loose white pants and remained shirtless, for which I was grateful. Too long I had gone without the sight of his firm chest, his muscles smooth and rounded under his tan skin.

“There was a boy outside; he said he was waiting for you. I gave him a hundred dollars and told him to go home. I hope that was alright. I mean, he wasn’t your Plan B if I didn’t work out, was he?”

I laughed at his lame joke and imagined Dei excitedly running home with his huge score. “Well, he did have nice eyes. They were dark with long lashes, like yours. But I do prefer my Plan A.”

He sat on the bed next to me and that’s when I noticed it. This was the room from my dream years ago: the windows with the white curtains, and the books in Hindi on the bedside table, Dev’s longer hair and white pants.

The feeling of déjà vu hit me hard, but I shook it off. I wanted to be fully present in the moment.

Our moment
.

As if reading my thoughts, Dev leaned his body over mine, and kissed my neck. I breathed in deeply like I had been suffocating for months without his touch—
my oxygen
. His hand gently tugged the silky robe open, his eyes possessed by what lay underneath.

My breasts were at least two cup sizes larger.
Would he notice?

Of course he would. He knew every inch of me.

He ran his hand over my right breast and lightly teased my nipple. He looked up with a half-cocked smile and said with suspicion, “Scarlett, you’re…
different
.”

“I am?”
Wait—does he think…?
“I didn’t do anything to myself, if that’s you mean.”

I softly ran my fingers through his thick hair, examining the curl at the ends. Would she have her father’s dark hair?

Tell him.

“It’s just that…there’s something—

I was interrupted by his warm mouth on my nipple which caused me to lose my train of thought. I moaned in ecstasy. The hormones had rendered me especially sensitive and I was putty in his hands.

“...I have to tell you.”

“Tell me later, my love. I’m busy right now,” he answered, muffled and panting between tastes of my breasts.

I fought to maintain my train of thought…

He moved his mouth down my body, leaving a trail of hot, sultry kisses, each sending me near the edge of no return. When I realized where he was headed, I knew I was running out of time.

“It’s important…”

Before I could get the words out, he had tugged my robe apart baring my rounded belly.

Was he happy? Upset?

I strained to see his face.

He looked surprised to say the least, his eyebrows raised in curiosity. His ran his hand over the small bump slowly, as if trying to figure out the riddle of what lay inside.

It was redundant at this point, but I said it anyway.

“I’m pregnant.”

I studied his reaction.

Please be happy, my love.

His hand froze over my stomach, his eyes fixed on that one, magical, mysterious spot.

After a moment, he looked at me in disbelief, his eyes vulnerable and confused.

“You’re having a baby?” he whispered.

“Yes,
you’re
going to be a father.” I smiled at him.

He smiled back and then laughed, joyously, like a man on death row given the news of a full pardon.

“A
baby
?” He asked again, like there might be a mistake.

“I’m pretty sure it’s not a puppy.”

“But it was just that one time.”

“And this is why you didn’t go to medical school. One time is all it takes, Dev.”

He bent over and kissed my tummy a dozen times with careful excitement, like therein lay the most precious gift he would ever be given.

He kissed me next on the lips, and cradled my face with his hand.

“Scarlett, I don’t deserve this…
happiness
. Please tell me this isn’t a dream because it feels like it.”

I kissed him back, my lips lingering on the place I had drawn blood months before. It was completely healed now.

Healed, like us.

“If it is a dream, we can always choose to not wake from it,” I suggested.

He grinned at me, like I was his co-conspirator.

“You’ve got a deal, my love. I won’t wake up if you won’t.”

“I promise.”

He kissed me again, his hand resting lightly on my tummy. I knew we were sealed to each other in that moment. We had finally learned to insulate ourselves from the pain of the world, to not let it steal away our happiness.

Or wake us from our beautiful dream.

THE END.

Coming April 6, 2015

Annika’s Passion

Now that Scarlett and Dev have their happy ending, Scarlett’s best friend, Annika, is bursting in anticipation for her own.

Just one problem: Spoiled, shallow and utterly vain Annika is engaged to a boorish, “family-approved” lawyer who wouldn’t know how to
please
a woman with an illustrated set of detailed instructions in hand. He’s perfect on paper, but a real letdown in reality.

As it goes, you don’t what’s missing in your life until you find it, and Annika does just that during what was supposed to be  short trip to hot, sultry and exotic India.

There, Annika discovers something she didn’t know she had buried deep down inside, repressed and neglected in order to please everyone else but herself.

Passion.

Passion for life, for love and for a handsome local doctor…who isn’t quite what he seems.

With her wedding just a few weeks away, Annika has two choices: Follow through with the marriage to the delight of her parents and family, or follow her newly discovered passions, and opening up her heart to the pain that comes with them.

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Kennedy Claire lives with her husband and five children in San Antonio, Texas. She loves a good cup of French pressed coffee, home-improvement projects that don’t involve hand-held sanders (don’t ask), and writing about herself in the third person. She spends her days chasing sheep and milking cows in between writing contemporary romance novels aimed to brighten up her readers’ days and add a little steam to their nights. You can visit her at
www.Kennedy-Claire.com

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