“What happened?” Hayden asks, grinning.
“Well…”
CHAPTER TWO
KAYLA
With a tissue balled in my fist and a bin on the floor next to the sofa, I curl up in a ball, staring at the television playing a Hallmark movie. I can barely see the screen as tears run down my cheeks.
I sniffle, and then blow my nose. “Why? Why couldn’t you just stay?” I cry.
The key entering the front door has me panicking. I sit up, pulling the blanket at my feet over my body, before quickly stuffing the empty food wrappers into the bin. Max has been plotting lately, and I didn’t like the look in his eyes when he left for work this morning. Technically, it isn’t my fault we ran out of his favourite cereal. And really, it isn’t my fault his snack drawer is empty. He never specified which ones were his.
When Myles steps inside, I relax, a smile lighting up my face. “Hey, you’re home,” I greet.
He grins when he spots the state I’m in, and shakes his head. “Sad movies? Again?”
I sigh, dropping my hands into my lap. “I can’t help it. They are like a drug to me.”
“How are you feeling today?” he asks, sitting down next to me. His hand goes to my belly and a flutter stirs inside.
We’ve been trying to get pregnant for a while. Watching everyone else start their own families, it’s been hard, but after years of trying, we are finally pregnant. The joy I feel, the love I have for our unborn baby, it’s overwhelming.
“I’m good. I’m not sure how much longer we can hide it from the others,” I admit, choking up a little when I remember the baby we miscarried. It was hard being reminded by the expressions on loved ones’ faces, so this time, Myles and I have kept it to ourselves, wanting to make sure we were over the twelve-week mark. We have passed that, but there is still a chance something might happen, and it scares me. Soon, they’ll be able to work it out. I already have a bump, which I’ve been managing to hide with my clothes, but Max… sometimes I wonder if he has a sixth sense for it and can smell the change.
“We should tell them. We find out the sex in a few weeks, and they should all be there for that. They’ll want to be there. But I understand if you aren’t ready.”
I reach for his hand and squeeze it. “I’m just scared something bad is going to happen.”
“Nothing is going to happen,” he promises, and reaches down to kiss me. He pulls back, gently rubbing my stomach. “I love you.”
“I love you too, but can we tell them the day we find out the sex?” I ask with a sheepish smile, willing to compromise. I know it’s been hard for him to keep it a secret.
He grins. “Yes, okay.”
I reach up, wrapping my arms around him. “Thank you. Thank you. Thank you.”
“I hope you’re hungry because I ordered the Indian you’ve been raving about having all day.”
I lick my lips as my stomach grumbles at the mention of food. “I’m starving. The morning sickness has eased off and now I’m just craving everything.”
He chuckles, the sound running down my spine like a caress. “Has Max come back yet?”
I bite my lip. “No. And I got roped into watching Hallmark movies, so I forgot to replace the snacks I ate.”
He shrugs. “Just tell him he ate them.”
I arch an eyebrow. “He doesn’t miss anything when it comes to food.”
“He does. Sometimes he forgets just how much he eats.”
I snort. “He’s your brother; you should know by now that he doesn’t miss anything. The other day I had some Skittles out of the packet he left on the side. He came down and started raving about how five were missing. He even had them out and was counting them on the side.”
He runs a hand over his jaw. “He’s still learning to share?”
“He’s a twin. He was born to share,” I retort, chuckling. “But seriously, what are we going to do?”
“Hope the Indian I ordered soothes his wounded stomach.”
“If not, we can tell him it’s payback for the cake you bought me—that he ate.”
Suddenly, there’s a weird flutter in my stomach. I sit up, gasping.
“What’s wrong?” Myles asks.
My eyes widen as I stare at him in wonder, the flutter happening again, this time a little harder against the wall of my belly. “I think the baby is moving.”
“Really?” he asks, placing his hand over my stomach.
I press his hand to where the flutter started, and moments later, a stronger one happens, causing a ripple across my stomach. “Holy fuck!” he chokes out, emotion clogging his throat.
Tears gather in my eyes as I stare at where our hands are joined. “It’s really real,” I rasp.
He looks up, tears brimming his own eyes. “I swear to you, Kayla, I will love you both for as long as I live and then some. I promise to be the best father, and the best husband, you can wish for.”
I reach up and cup his cheek. “You already are.”
He leans in, pressing his lips to mine in a fiery kiss. All his kisses set me on fire. It has never died down, no matter how many years have passed. He is my forever. The love of my life. My family.
Noise from outside pulls our attention away from each other and the moment.
“Oi, you fat prick; Mum said you stole her takeaway last night.”
My eyes widen in horror as I turn to Myles. “Max,” I gasp. “I told you he didn’t order that food.”
“Do not come outside,” he warns, and I nod yet make my way to the window to be nosey.
“Mate, I paid for it. It was mine. Why don’t you people learn,” Max snorts, locking up his car.
Another car pulls up, and it’s a guy I recognise as one of the delivery drivers for the Indian.
My attention goes back to the guy having a go at Max, just as he gets in his face. “She couldn’t reorder as they had closed by the time she realised it wasn’t coming.”
Max shrugs. “I don’t know what else to say, mate. It came to our door, I paid for it, I ate it: it was mine. I don’t know what part your mum played in it but tell her thank you from me.”
“I’m not your mate,” he growls. “And you owe her.”
“Don’t see how, as she never paid for it,” Max retorts, eyeing the delivery guy warily as he begins to sniff the air. “Is that Indian?”
I head to the door before Max decides to tackle the guy, grabbing the money off the side on my way. It wouldn’t be the first time Max has gotten into it with a delivery guy.
“Why don’t we calm down,” Myles interrupts, placing his hands up in a calming gesture.
Please don’t get in the middle again.
“Why don’t you apologise to my mum,” the son snaps.
The delivery guy grins sheepishly as he reaches me. “I swear, I love coming here to deliver. It’s always entertaining.”
“It’s one of the only places he hasn’t gotten us banned ordering from,” I admit, handing him the money.
“My boss threatened to do that the last time one of the drivers came back crying. But I offered to do this house.”