I stepped between them and handed Juliette her yoghurt. She glared at me and tried to step around, but I held her waist and turned to Nadine.
“You should walk away.”
She blinked. “Excuse me?”
“I said walk away,” I repeated, voice flat. “Before you embarrass yourself further.”
Nadine scoffed. “Wow. She’s got you whipped.”
I smiled, but it didn’t reach my eyes. “No. I’m in love—with a woman who didn’t need to play games to earn my loyalty. You had your chance. You blew it.”
Her jaw snapped shut.
Juliette tucked the yoghurt into the cart. I could feel the tension simmering off her, but she stayed quiet. That’s how I knew she was livid.
“You want to know why I didn’t date after you left?” I asked, taking Juliette’s hand. “Because I was too busy scraping off the residue of your ego.”
Juliette choked on a laugh beside me. Nadine’s face turned blotchy red.
I pulled Juliette close, brushing my lips against her temple. “Now, excuse us. My wife’s pregnant, gorgeous, and craving dessert.”
And with that, we left Nadine behind—along with every single mistake I’d ever made before Juliette.
“How did you almost marry that woman?” Juliette muttered, picking up her pace in an angry waddle.
“It was a very long engagement,” I said, sliding my hand to her hip. “I think, deep down… I always knew.”
Juliette scoffed.
“If it makes you feel any better, I didn’t do a fraction of the batshit-crazy stuff I’ve done with you,” I said, grinning when she came to an abrupt halt to study me.
“Really?” she asked, uncertain.
“Hand on my heart,” I said solemnly, watching a flicker of vulnerability cross my wife’s face.
My baby made its momma a little crazy sometimes—we were three peas in a pod.
I leaned down and kissed her neck.
“How about I prove it by eating that sweet pussy until you squirt all over my face, baby?”
She spluttered, looking around before nodding.
“Let’s go,” she said, resuming her determined waddle.
We still had groceries to buy, but I’d be damned if I was going to remind her of that.
Kade
One and a Half Months Later
I glanced in the rearview mirror. I couldn’t see my son because of the damn car seat, so I focused on the road instead. Every corner, every driver, every shadow—it all looked like a threat.
“Is it even legal to have your lights flashing when there’s no emergency?” Juliette asked, smirking.
“It’s not like I’ve got the sirens on,” I muttered, narrowing my eyes at the sedan inching toward the intersection.
They stopped.
