His beautiful smile and the sparkle in his eye returns, and I vow to never, ever, let him feel even a glimmer of a doubt about me or the baby again.
I watch her from the doorway for a few moments, while she stares at her phone with an angry frown, before I cross the room to sit on the edge of our bed next to her. Having a cold sucks, and I hate that she’s feeling sick when she’s six months pregnant. She looks completely miserable and uncomfortable.
I take the phone out of her hand and put it on the nightstand. “What’s wrong?” I ask. “You’re making the “Evie’s upset” face, and that’s banned for eternity.”
“More stupid social media stuff. All these crazy girls online are saying they’re pregnant with your baby too. Are people really this twisted?”
Her jawline tightens. “It drives me crazy. It’s like they want to take everything away from me and try to make it theirs.”
“No one can take anything away from you, Evie. I’m yours. This baby is ours. Our life is ours. They live in an online delusion.”
“I’m sorry, I know it’s not your fault. But this chick stuck her head onto my body in one of our pictures together, and she’s sharing it all over her Facebook and Instagram and her friends are actually congratulating her. It’s crazy and it makes me feel sick.”
Some of the female fans take their fantasies to an epic level of insanity. I wish there were some way to make people stop posting all sorts of crazy shit and lies about me, but there’s nothing I can do about it except not to engage in it. Evie’s usually good about just laughing it off, but the pregnancy hormones are making her extra sensitive.
“You have to ignore it. They just want attention. I don’t want you getting upset about this crap. You’re supposed to be resting.”
She sneezes, and I hand her a tissue from the box lying next to her.
“You want some of my special juice, baby?” I ask softly, pushing her hair out of her face and stroking her cheek and forehead. “That always makes you feel better.”
“Storm, I can’t even think about sex right now. I can barely breathe.”
“I meant my orange juice.”
“Oh.” She sniffles. “That would be amazing. You’re the best husband in the world.”
I lean down and kiss her cheek. “Now I want to make love to you.”
She smiles weakly. “I’m all gross and sneezy and fat. And I can’t breathe out of my nose, so I can’t even kiss you.”
“You’re perfect.” I nuzzle my face into her neck and kiss just behind her ear, where it drives her crazy. “I’m going to show you just how perfect you are.” I move my lips to her throat and nip at her soft flesh. “Then I’m going to make you fuzzy orange juice, and we’re going to spend the day in bed.”
She snakes her arms around my neck and pulls me down on the bed with her. “How can I say no to that?”
“You can’t.” I lift her thin T-shirt and caress her belly. “Take a nap, little baby bean,” I whisper. “Daddy has to love on mommy for a little while.”
I pull her shirt off and cup her swollen breasts in my hands, gently squeezing as I circle her nipple with my tongue, sucking it between my lips when it hardens against my tongue. I move my mouth to her other breast, lightly pinching the one I just left between my thumb and forefinger. In no time she’s writhing beneath my touch, holding my head to her breasts with her hands threaded in my hair. She gets turned on super fast since she got pregnant, and I can’t say I don’t love it. Her curvier body and her begging moans drive me even wilder for her. I tug her cotton shorts and panties off and toss them to the end of the bed before I quickly undress myself.
As I lie down next to her, I brush my lips softly across hers and cup her full breast in my hand, gently squeezing as I move my lips down to nibble on the pulse of her neck.
“Mmm…” she moans when I slide my hand down over her hip to the apex of her thighs. Her legs part, inviting my hand to delve between them, and my cock twitches with want at how wet and slippery she already is. Sliding two fingers into her slit, I rub slow circles around her throbbing clit. She turns onto her side, fitting her body against mine, her firm ass pressing against my cock.
I move her hair to the side and kiss the back of her neck, gently biting her warm flesh as she reaches between us to grab my cock. She pumps her hand over it before she guides it to her wet entrance. Gripping her ass, I slowly thrust in and out of her, relishing every heated stroke.
She clasps our fingers together and pulls my hand to rest with hers against her breasts. Embracing her from behind, I drive into her, burying my face into her dark chestnut hair, inhaling her scent.
“I love you so fuckin’ much, baby,” I sigh against her ear when she shudders and tightens around me. She turns her head to kiss me, and I stare into the forever of her eyes as I release into her.
“Maybe I should bail out and not go,” he says, throwing another shirt into his suitcase, which is lying open on the bed next to where I’m sitting.
“You have to go. The band can’t play without you.”
He chews the inside of his cheek. “It’s just an awards show. I can ask Finn to stand in for me.”
“Storm, it’s a huge awards show. You deserve to be there on that stage, and your fans want to see you, not Finn.”
“I’m worried about leaving you.”
“I’m fine. Asia is right around the corner if I need anything.”
He doesn’t look convinced. I love how protective he is, but I’m not going to let him miss playing at a live awards show just to sit home and watch me being pregnant.
“It’s only four days.”
“What if you go into labor while I’m gone? I’ll lose my shit if I’m stuck in California while you’re having our baby.”
“I’m not due for another two months. She’s not going to come while her Daddy’s away. I promise.”
He places his hand over my huge belly. “She better not.”
We opted not to officially find out the gender of the baby, because Storm is still positive we’re having a girl. I hope he’s right, because he painted the nursery lavender and hung snowflakes from the ceiling on clear strings.
Covering his hand with mine, I smile up at him. “Are you going to tell me what name you picked for her yet?”
He winks at me. “No. I’m going to tell you her name when she gets here.”
After our first ultrasound, Storm made an odd, but incredibly sweet, request. He asked if he could name the baby himself, so he could surprise me with her name when she’s born. I know most women are crazy about naming their baby—there are thousands of websites dedicated to baby names and meanings—and would never let their husbands pick the name without telling them. But I love that he wants to do something so special, and I trust he’ll give her the perfect name. That doesn’t stop me from trying to get him to tell me what it is beforehand, though.
“Can I have a hint?” I tease.
He gives me his cute crooked smile while he thinks that over. “Hmmm….it’s a cool as fuck name.”
“Of course, she’s a Valentine. You have to give me more than that.”
“It’s one of our favorite things.”
He lets out a laugh. “That’s one of your favorite things.”
“Cute, and true, but no.”
“Also true and also no.”
“Star? Moon? Snow? Filet?” I rattle off, giggling at his facial expressions.
He snaps his suitcase shut. “She’s lucky I’m the one naming her. Actually, after those awful guesses, I’m going to name all our kids.” He leans down to kiss me.
“All?” I echo. “I thought we were planning on two?” Two would be both, not all.
“We are…but I keep hearing three names in my head.”
I brush my hand across his stubbled cheek. “Then we’ll plan for three.”
I’m standing in line at Lukas and Talon’s café downtown, texting with Storm while I wait my turn.
STORM: I’ll be home tomorrow around 9 p.m. I can’t wait to see you and feel baby bean kick.
Smiling, I text back.
ME: I miss you so much. She’s a kung-fu fighter in there. She had me awake at six.
STORM: Take a nap. I don’t want you exhausted when I get home tomorrow. That’s my job ;)~
ME: I just had my hair and nails done. I’m grabbing a tea at the café then maybe I’ll take a nap.
STORM: send me a naughty selfie :-) I need some wifey eye candy. xo I’ll call you and baby bean tonight.
“Hey, Evie. You having the usual today?” Feather asks from behind the counter.
I nod, missing the times when my usual was a large white mocha with skim milk and whipped cream. Now it’s a decaf tea with honey.
Because Lukas and Talon own the café, I never get charged for my order, so I put a twenty-dollar bill in the tip jar as Feather hands me my to-go cup.