Devil's Despair Box Set: Books 1-3 (63 page)

“I love her. I want to take her home.”

“Oh, no, you don’t,” Marlee interrupts from the bed, motioning her hands in the air for Lacey to give her back. “My boys are going to be back in a few minutes, and I want some girl time before they come crashing the party.”

“Grandma’s headed back to the hotel,” Rebecca tells Marlee, kissing her forehead. “I’ll come back later.”

“We’re headed out, too. Rae’s takin’ the boys to dinner.”

Rae elbow jabs Ace’s ribs. He fakes a groan in response. “No, Rae isn’t takin’ the boys to dinner. Ace is. Raegan’s headed home for a nap!”

“Damn.” Ace looks to Travis and Sarah. “You guys wanna help out with this?”

When my eyes find Travis’s, I see he’s smiling. It appears everyone is at ease.

It’s a good day.

* * *

“She’s perfect! Did you see her little nose?”

I’ll admit, Lacey’s excitement on the way home is nothing less than contagious. Even I have to say Toby and Marlee gave all their best physical attributes to little Jo. Maddux was beet red for days after suffering through difficult labor, only to end up as a C-section baby. He wasn’t cute at all; he was a cherry with legs as stems.

“She is.”

“Even her little cry was cute.”

“They don’t stay that way long.”

“Oh, like you’re the baby expert.”

I smile as I open her door and help her out of the truck. “Definitely fucking not.”

“Our baby is going to be perfect, too.” Pushing on the small of her back to get her moving, she stops me and slaps her hands on my chest. “Say it, Hayden.”

“Say what?”

“Little Adelaide June is going to be healthy and gorgeous.”

“Adelaide June?” I laugh out loud. “That’s not a name; that’s an
ingredient.
And what if it’s a boy?”

Lacey grows quiet, removes her hand from my chest and passes me on her way to the house. “Well, then we better start picking names.”

“Adelaide isn’t a name,” I state again, taking that ridiculous name out of the running.

Opening the door and letting her in the house, I follow closely behind her. She sets her purse on the table and stretches her arms over her head. When she does, her shirt rises with her movements and her lower belly shows slightly.

“I’m beat. I’m going to bed. Wanna make out before I turn in for the night?” Her tone is serious, but she can’t possibly be.

She hasn’t asked me that question in as many months as it’s taken me to stop trying to forget what she feels like coming undone underneath me. My body tenses in anticipation for release.

My smile and words in answer, though, are enough of the denial she needs. “Not a good idea.”

“Pregnant women need love, too,” she claims, removing her shirt that leaves her in a thin black camisole. Her body is radiant from pregnancy. She’s stunning. I look up and down her ever-growing form, feeling my mouth growing dry.

Fuck me, she’s not wearing a bra.

“You scare me,” I tell her.

“You bother me, so?”

“Go to bed, Lacey.” My body is fighting to stay in its place. If we had sex, it would fuck up any and all of what we’ve salvaged.
Fucking
is what got us into this mess in the first place.

“Oh, fine, hot pants. Stay out here . . . all alone.”

I walk toward the couch, opening the blanket and fixing the pillow to avoid looking at her. “Nice, Lacey. Goodnight.”

“I’ll be in here if you change your mind,” she mumbles, closing the bedroom door behind her.

Jesus Christ. No man can withstand this torture and do it with any dignity.

“I should be sainted for this,” I say to myself as I lie down, get comfortable, and close my eyes. “Fucking sainted. Damn it.”

A few hours later, I wake to Lacey stirring. I’ve found that along with her pregnancy I’ve become attuned to her every move, intentional or not. Even without touching her, holding her, or being inside her I still feel as though her being pregnant has kept us intimately connected.

Lifting the blankets and heading toward the bedroom, I stop when I see she’s awake and staring at the ceiling. She catches me watching from the door way and the cast of the moon’s light creates a shadow on her face. She’s not smiling or crying; she merely looks content.

“I woke myself up,” she tells me in a rough whisper.

“I heard you from out there.”

“I snore, don’t I?”

“No, but you mumble. You all right?” She nods, and her hair moves with the pillow as she does. “Can I get you anything while I’m up?”

“Can you keep me company? I can’t sleep.”

“You want to play cards?”

“No. Lie down with me?”

I let go of the doorjamb and move into the room. Emotionally, this is a bad idea. Physically, it’s a fucking disaster. I haven’t been with a woman since her, and just the smell of her hair if I let myself enjoy it is too much. Being next to her in bed again . . .

“You don’t have to. If you . . .” she sighs. She must sense my internal struggle.

“Shhh. Save the drama, baby mama. This is fine.”

I climb in and lie next to her on my side of the bed. We stare at the ceiling in silence, each not knowing what the other is thinking.

“I’ve missed my bed,” I say, getting more comfortable by the second. “The couch sucks.”

“Couch was your idea. I told you I could’ve taken it.”

“You’re a house, Lace. Unsure you’d fit.” I see her fist coming on the way to my ribs and before she has a chance to land a good solid punch, I grab her wrist to stop her.

“You’re so mean!” she exclaims.

I laugh out loud, she laughs with me, and we turn on our sides when I let her go. “Sorry. I wasn’t trying to hurt your feelings.”

“You didn’t. I’m tired of being this big, though. I swear I break into a sweat when I put my shoes on.”

Slowly, I reach over and rest my hand on her stomach. I don’t ever get the chance to feel the baby move or kick since Lacey and I don’t spend much time together. It isn’t that I’m not curious about it; I’m just careful not to cross an imaginary boundary line and upset her.

“What are you thinking about?” she asks me, fingering my silver pendant.

“Can I listen?”

“To the baby?”

“Yeah.”

“If you want. Here . . .” She moves and adjusts so she’s lying on her back again. She lifts her nightshirt then places my hands on either side of her stomach. I move down and lay my ear against her warm skin.

“I don’t hear anything.”

“Maybe it’s sleeping.”

“Maybe it’s tired or it’s faking sleep so you don’t call it Adelaide June again.” Her throat clears and I recognize this look. I’m about to get schooled. She has information I don’t have. “You know what it is, don’t you?”

“Yes.”

“How? When? Lacey, we agreed we wouldn’t find out.” I rise up to look at her, half-frustrated and half-excited.

“I couldn’t help it! I’ve known for months. I’ve had two ultrasounds.”

I fucking missed it. I was so busy avoiding the mother of my child, I missed the first chance to meet the baby. “I’m a horrible father.”

“No, you’re not. We weren’t talking at the time and I didn’t bring it up after because, well, I don’t know. I just didn’t.”

“So you know what it is.”

“I told you this. Do you want to know?”

“Yes.”

“You’re sure?”

“Lacey,” I growl, my fingertips dipping into the skin of her stomach.

She laughs her answer, but when I hear it nothing is funny anymore. “You’re going to have a little girl.”

Since Lacey told me she was pregnant, I didn’t dwell on that I would prefer, boy or girl. I only imagined it to be a screaming replica of the two of us and later become a pawn in our wage of war we constantly struggle through. Now, after meeting Toby and Marlee’s baby, I am not only nearing peace with it, I’m looking forward to meeting her.

“A girl.”

“Yes. I’ll let you process this for a few minutes,” she states, smiling down at me.

“That could take months.”

“Do you want to see her?”

“What? No!”

“Hayden!” She slaps my bare shoulder and sits up. “Not like that. Jesus, you’re sick . . . and a little creepy.”

“How the fuck else am I going to see it, Lacey?”

She shoves a picture frame at me, and in the dark of the room, I can’t make out what it is. She flips her reading lamp on and I study the picture but all I see is . . .”It’s a splotch.”

“A what?”

“It looks like mud. Take this back. This isn’t our baby.” I force her to take the picture from my hands.

Lacey leans toward me, adjusts the picture, and hands it back. “You have it upside down. There, now look. That’s the head . . .”

I cut her off, pushing her hand away, and stare at it. I see shadows of fingers, toes, a small nose, and long legs. My eyes dart to her stomach and back to the picture. I hear Lacey sigh as she lies back on the bed getting comfortable.

“I’m sorry I didn’t remind you about appointments. I wasn’t sure you’d go, and I didn’t want you to feel forced into it.”

“I’m sorry I missed them. Did you take Rae with you at least?”

“No. I went alone.”

“Why? She or someone would’ve gone with you.”

Her head lifts from the pillow. I put the picture down on the table on my side of the bed as I hear her answer. “I didn’t want anyone meeting her until you got the chance. The others don’t know the sex either. I haven’t told them.”

God, she’s sweet. “Thank you.”

Her hand moves to my face and her finger traces my eyebrow and down my nose. “You’re welcome.”

“Can we make out now?” I ask without meaning.

“I haven’t had sex in so long, Hayden. I’m probably tighter than an unused vise.”

My eyebrows lift and sadly my cock twitches hard in my pajama pants. Fuck, it’s been a long time. “Did you seriously just say that?”

Her shoulders shake as she laughs. The bed moves with her as she slams her arms on the bed in dramatic movement. “I did. Pregnant women go through stages. I’m in one. I think about sex all the time. I’m too fat now to even enjoy having sex alone.”

“You’ve been having sex alone?”
Cock twitch again.
Fuck me. As ridiculous as this sounds, I’ve missed our comical version of foreplay.

“Yes.”

“In here? While I’ve been out there on the couch?” I point to the door that leads to the offensive room where I’ve been sleeping on that ridiculous couch, not listening close enough to what’s going on in here,
obviously.

“Yeah. I hear you doing it in the shower; it’s the same thing,” she accuses.

“Did you
seriously
just say
that?
”

“So? Shut me up, Hayden. I’m pregnant, emotional, and horny. I’m a sexual ticking time bomb. Do something before I explode into bits of pathetic and hard-up all over the room.”

I start to move in closer to her face, but since I’ve never had sex with a pregnant woman, I’m about to make this awkward. “I don’t want to hurt you or the baby.”

“Go at me from behind.”

Cock’s about to blow.
“Christ, I’m hard. If you keep talking like that I don’t stand a chance.”

“We can fuck however you want, Hayden. I’m a house, not a concubine. It’s safe.”

“Take off your clothes,” I demand before having a chance to process. I’ve fucking missed her and I’ve lost the will to sustain. We’re already completely fucked-up; things can’t get worse.

“Bossy.” She smiles. “I like it.”

She’s not moving fast enough, so I lean to her side and help remove her shirt. Her chest heaves with excitement when I throw it to the side and let my hands explore her body as I once did so long ago.

“Lay back,” I tell her and wait as she complies.

Positioning myself between her legs, my hands travel up her thighs, to her waist, and then her stomach. She inhales when I stop there, admiring the part of her that carries part of me.

Her hand finds mine and she interrupts my thought. “Hayden, are you okay?”

“Yeah, Lace. I am. I’ll be gentle.”

Her eyes look to the ceiling; she’s clearly frustrated. “Please, for the love of our fucking, don’t change now. Don’t be gentle.”

I smile at her and lean my face into her neck. The warmth of her body feels foreign and forgotten. I hate it.

“Brace for it then.”

“Thank God!” she shouts as I enter her body with my own.

I let out a subtle groan she matches with her own and we start to move. Her hands find my chest, neck, then back. She’s pulling me to her with greed as she wraps her legs around my back, her heels digging in; my hips thrusting into her. The sweat from our bodies finally getting reacquainted.

It’s a frenzied mix of passion, excitement, and anger for being delayed. It’s us.

“Hayden.” My name from her mouth causes me to slow. Emotions are heavy; we’re surrounded in anticipation; doubt loses to hunger and pleasure.

“Are you ready?”

“Yes,” she pants, biting the edge of my jaw.

My hands anchor to either side of her head before I look down at her sweet and tender expression. Her voice clings to my senses as she admits, “I’ve missed you.”

Not knowing how to respond, I move a hand to her clit and my finger circles it aggressively until I watch her neck straighten, her eyes close, and her panting stops. She releases her climax, and in response, my body surrenders to its own.

“Jesus, I’ve missed us, too, Lace,” I admit my own truth while spilling into her.

It’s only moments that pass before I’ve realized I’ve made the confession I had never wanted to make. She stills under me as I finish in a shudder. Another second passes before I pull out and sit up.

She turns to me with a look of surrender, loss, and confusion. “You do miss me.”

“What?” I need time to think. I’m stalling.

“That wasn’t something you just said in the heat of the moment, Hayden. Don’t think you’re playing that up.”

Walking out and to the bathroom to get a towel, I think fast. It doesn’t matter; there’s no way out of this. I can’t convince her or myself that I’ve not missed who she and I used to be. There’s no point in trying.

I stand at the bathroom entrance with a towel and watch her put on her shirt. Her movements are careful.

“I miss you,” I say, this time not screaming it against the walls. “I miss how things used to be.”