Sweet Alibi (60 page)

My hand traced down her ribcage and landed at the bump at her stomach. Five months pregnant, halfway and she was finally starting to show. The enormity of what we’d made, what our love had created inside her, amazed me. It left my brain scrambled in awe. There was a baby inside her. She carried my baby within her every day. He or she slept to the rhythm of her heartbeat, heard her beautiful laugh, was between us, literally, when we made love.
 

“What’s wrong?” she breathed, her lust-filled eyes fluttering open. I swallowed the lump in my throat and glanced up at her. My heart hammered in my chest.
 

“The baby. Are you okay? Do you feel okay? I don’t want to be too rough.”

“Oh, baby, you won’t be.” She snaked a palm around my neck to cup my cheek. The pad of her thumb caressed my cheekbone. I closed my eyes and inhaled. “Hey, I promise I will tell you if you’re being too rough, but you’re not.” She hooked her legs around my waist and locked her ankles, taking me deeper inside her.
 

“Georgia, what if . . . this is weird. I feel like I’m going to hit the baby . . . with my . . .” I couldn’t finish the words—there was a baby in the room. Gone were words like cock and dick, replaced with innuendo. This baby had me turned on my head and it wasn’t even out yet.
 

“Really?” She cocked an amused eyebrow at me.
 

“I dunno. It’s weird.”

“I thought you read the baby book? Sex is safe.”

“I did, cover to cover. But it’s still weird.” I moved a little inside her, testing the waters. “Shit, what if I could feel the baby move from inside you? On my . . .” I arched an eyebrow in question.
 

“Oh my God, you are so ridiculous. Are you going to make me get myself off?”

“Never, not while I'm around. I want every orgasm from this point on. If I’m with you, only I’m getting you off.” I moved in and out of her again.
 

“Good. Now fuck me like you mean it.” She grinned. I couldn’t refuse those words.
 

“You want it hard and fast?” I hiked her thigh up around my waist, thrust into her, and rolled my hips.
 

“Please,” she moaned, “but watch the nipples.”

“Got it, easy on the nipples.” I pulled her legs up straight and over my shoulders and hit her to the very end, setting a punishing pace as I fucked her to the sound of her moans and pleas echoing around the room.
 

* * *

“Tristan,” she shrieked from our bedroom. I flew out of my office and into our room. I saw her standing in the shirt she’d slept in, a pair of panties in her hand and a puddle of water on the floor.
 

“Fuck,” I whispered and stood stock-still. I couldn’t move. My heart hammered, my eyes as wide as saucers.
 

The baby was coming today.
 

The baby was coming now, and my brain couldn’t process what I needed to do about it. Wrigley galloped into the room. The puppy, who was much less puppy and much more gangly dog, made his way to Georgia and sniffed the puddle on the floor.
 

“Tristan. Don’t let him, oh my God,” she moaned as she swatted at the dog to shoo him away. “Don’t just stand there. Get my bag, get me a towel, call Drew!” Georgia was flipping out just like I was. Bad news. We both couldn’t be flipping out. I was relatively sure two adults who had no idea how to raise a baby was bad news. Fuck, maybe we were in over our heads on this one. We could hardly wrangle two dogs and a high-maintenance cat.
 

“Tristan.”
 

“Fuck, yeah, okay. Towel.” I ran into the bathroom and pulled a towel from the rack.
 

“Not a good one,” she squealed.
 

“Right. A bad one. Okay.” I pulled an old towel from under the sink and threw it on top of the puddle between her legs.
 

“Hey,” she called to me. I looked up at her, concern etched across my face. “It’s going to be okay,” she whispered and pressed a soft kiss to my lips. I sighed as she ran her fingers through my hair. I laid my forehead against hers and breathed in the vanilla scent of her, calming my nerves.
 

“Are you ready to have a baby, Daddy?” she murmured against my lips.
 

“As ready as I’ll ever be.”
 

“Good. Now let’s get to the hospital.”

“Right.” I kissed her again. I felt centered. She did that to me. Had that calming effect. I picked up her overnight bag as she pulled a pair of leggings on and we headed out the door and to the hospital to have our baby.
 

* * *

“One more push, baby, just one more and the baby will be here.” I coached her from the top of the bed. The doctor sat between her legs, Georgia practiced her breathing as she pushed with every ounce of strength she had in her.
 

My wife blew my mind.
 

I was in awe of the strength she mustered to bring our baby into the world. A year and a half into our marriage, and she was still taking my breath away.
 

A loud cry pierced the room.
 

“It’s a boy! Good job, Mama.”

“He’s here? Oh, Tristan,” she whimpered as tears fell down her cheeks.

“You did so good, baby.” I swiped the hair off her forehead and pressed my lips to her damp skin. “You did so good.”

“Want to cut the cord, Daddy?”
 

My eyes widened in fear.
 

“Come on.” The doctor waved me over, my squirming boy in her hands. I took the scissors from the nurse and cut where she instructed. Anxiety and happiness in equal parts chocked my throat as I realized that I'd just severed the tie that had connected him to his momma, my beautiful wife. She'd sustained him for all those months, held him in her body and cherished him in her heart and now it was my turn.

“Perfect. Want to hold your son before we start his tests?”
 

I only nodded. I couldn’t force the words from my lips.
 

The doctor pushed the baby into my arms and I stared down into his beautiful little face. Round cheeks and grey eyes, a button nose and the most beautiful little bow-tie lips. Georgia’s lips. My son had Georgia’s lips and a fine layer of blond hair. He was ours. A perfect mixture of us.

I swallowed the lump that had formed in my throat. My whole body shook as I held my son and took in his beauty.

“Hey, little guy, we’ve been waiting so long for you.” I placed a kiss on his head. I sucked in a long breath and inhaled him just like Georgia did me. I took him in, made him mine.
 

He owned me.
 

His little face owned me completely.
 

“Baby,” I whispered as I brought him to Georgia. “He’s got your lips.” Tears filled my eyes and trailed down my cheeks as I laid him in her arms. “He looks like you, baby.”

“Hey, sweetheart.” She kissed his little head and his dark little eyes stared up at her face, took her in, recognizing her voice.
 

She captivated him just like she did me.
 

He needed her to breathe, just like I did.
 

Neither one of us ever stood a chance. From the moment we'd laid eyes on her, she owned us both.
 

* * *

“Can you change Brady’s diaper?” she called from down the hall.
 

“I had the last one,” I yelled as my eyes trained back on the football game.
 

“Babe, I can’t change the diaper, seriously. It will make me sick,” she whined as she stepped into the room, Brady wiggling in her arms in only a diaper.
 

“Shouldn’t he be potty trained by now anyway?” I groaned as I stood from the couch.
 

“He’s only eighteen months old, so no.” She thrust my boy into my arms.
 

“Jesus,” I held his stinky self at arm’s length.
 

“Come on, buddy, don’t you want to use the toilet like a big boy?”

“No.” Ah, there it was,
no
, one of the few words he knew and used excessively.
 

“What a bum deal if you’re going to be like this the whole pregnancy,” I grumbled as I headed down the hall and into the nursery.
 

“It’s just the beginning that my nose is so sensitive.” She rubbed her tummy softly.
 

“Better be. If your nose is so sensitive, how is it you’re able to stand in here with me while I change the diaper?” I arched an eyebrow at her.
 

“It’s just standing right over it I can’t take.” She wrinkled her nose and darted out of the room as a grin split across her face. I had a feeling she was bullshitting me about the sensitive nose thing. I knew she was sensitive to smells, coffee for one, but this dirty diaper sensitivity was way too convenient.
 

Lucky for her, I didn’t care. I knew she had it rough, carrying a baby while a toddler ran around the house, leaving mass chaos in his wake. If I had diaper duty for the rest of the pregnancy, I was okay with that; it was the least I could do after watching her push our son into the world. That didn’t mean I wasn’t going to give her a hard time about it, though. I couldn’t let her know she owned me so completely and could walk all over me, and I’d still have a smile on my face. Georgia did that to me. Got her way in all things and I happily gave it to her, gave her everything, because she’d given me everything.
 

* * *

“Come on, boys, let’s go,” I called from the beach.
 

“Where’s Daddy and Brady?” My beautiful little girl looked up at me, golden ringlets pulled into a ponytail, dark brown eyes dancing with excitement.
 

“They’re coming, baby.” I patted her head just as Tristan and our four-year-old came bounding down the deck stairs of the beach house.
 

“Be careful,” I called, but I knew they couldn’t hear.
 

“Mama.” Brooke tugged on the hem of my cover-up.
 

“Yeah, baby?”
 

“Up.” She reached her chubby little arms up for me to hold her. A smile slid across my face as I heaved her into my arms. I looked back at my boys as they reached the bottom of the stairs. Tristan heaved Brady up on his shoulders and jogged to me, a beautiful smile crossing his face. My heart stuttered to a stop because it was just as I'd imagined in my daydream so many years ago. That summer we'd first met and I'd seen beautiful little blond-haired babies in the sand, a smiling Tristan entertaining them.
 

“Hey, Mama.” My gorgeous husband pressed a kiss to my lips. I adjusted Brooke on my hip and weaved a hand up to hold his cheek as I kissed him.
 

“Hey,” I whispered.
 

“You look beautiful,” he murmured as he pressed his forehead to mine.
 

“Thanks.” I took his lips with mine again.
 

“Daddy, I’m ready to swim.” Brady shook the bucket of beach toys in his hand.

“He’s ready to swim, Daddy.” I smiled sweetly.
 

“While they’re swimming, can I get some alone time with my girl?” He quirked an eyebrow suggestively.
 

“Wait till nap time, Mr. Howell.” I pulled away, but not before pinching his ass.
 

“Ow.”
 

“What, Daddy?” Concern crossed our little boy’s face.
 

“Mommy pinched Daddy.”

“You shit,” I whispered under my breath as Tristan’s eyes gleamed with amusement.
 

“No pinching, Mommy,” Brady chastised from atop Tristan's shoulders.

“Sorry, baby. Let’s go swim.” I darted off down the beach with Brooke squealing with delight in my arms. I set her down in the sand and she immediately started digging as the waves lapped at her chubby little feet.
 

“I’ll be out in a minute.” Tristan lifted Brady from his shoulders. Brady headed for his sister and plopped down, showing her how to make a sandcastle with the toys.
 

Tristan wrapped his arms around my waist and swayed me back and forth as he tucked his nose into my neck. I sucked in a contented breath and lay back against his chest.
 

“Thank you,” I sighed.

“For what?” His lips tickled the skin beneath my ear.
 

“For everything. All of it. From the beginning to the end, thank you.”

“Mmm, my pleasure, ma’am,” he said in his best southern drawl.
 

“Seriously. Buying this house? Best decision I ever made.” I turned in his arms and caught his gaze with my own. “That first day sailing? I'm so thankful you asked me and I said yes. Every minute I’m thankful for, even the hard ones.” Tears pricked behind my eyelids, as I looked at the beautiful boy that had been stopping and restarting my heart
 
from the moment I’d met him.