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Nathan walks around the corner with his children in his arms. He smiles softly when he sees me.
“Hey, babe.”
“Hi.” I beam. I still get
a physical reaction to my husband. Nothing is hotter than Nathan Mercer in his suit.
He kisses me, his lips lingering over mine, and the kids struggle to get out of his arms. He puts them down, and they run off.
“How’s my girl?” His hands run down over my heavily pregnant stomach.
“Good.” I smile against his lips. “Huge.”
He chuckles. “And fucking hot.” He pulls my hips toward him. Nathan Mercer has a new fetish. He’s officially obsessed with my pregnant body.
I’m all hormonal and horny, so we are a good match. Although, I’m quite sure that married pregnant people are not supposed to act like we do. We’re bad.
His tongue tenderly explores my mouth as he kisses me, and I feel my feet rise up from the floor.
“I got you something today.” I smile.
“I’m fucking starving,” he says, distracted. He turns and looks into the oven and then realizes what I said. “You did?”
I hand it over proudly. I did good with this present. I wrapped it and everything
“What is it?” He holds it to his ear and gives it a shake.
“Just open it.”
He tears the wrapping off, and his eyes widen. “Eliza,” he whispers.
I giggle. It’s the latest book from his favorite author, Giraldi. I ordered it in, especially. It doesn’t hit bookstores until next week.
“I haven’t read a book in so long.” He stares at it in awe. “I can’t wait to read this this weekend.”
“I know. You deserve this book, honey.” I love that he’s so excited. He doesn’t get time to read anymore. With work and the kids and me, he falls into bed in an exhausted heap every night.
He opens the front page and sees the message I wrote.
Truer, Madder, Deeper.
Forever.
He holds the book over his heart and smiles. “Thank you.” He kisses me softly. “I love it—so thoughtful.”
Gracie comes running into the kitchen and holds her arms up for Nathe. He picks her up, and she reaches for his book.
“Careful,” he says as he passes it over. “Very special,” he whispers.
She hurls it, and it goes flying across the room and lands straight into the sink full of the dishwater I have a pot soaking in.
“Ahh.” His hand dives in after it and pulls it out. It’s soaking wet, and water flies everywhere. It slops onto the counter, completely ruined.
He looks at me, deadpan, and puts Gracie down. She runs off into the living room, totally unfazed.
I put my hand over my mouth and burst out laughing. “She’s one,” I remind him.
“She’s good at it.” He puts his hands on his hips and stares at his beloved book. “Are you fucking kidding me?”
