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Chapter Nine
Standing in the mirror with only my underwear on, I scrutinized my protruding belly.
Thirty weeks, four days, but I already felt like I was ready to burst. My feet hurt, my back hurt, I needed to pee at least once every hour and these two kids felt like they were constantly trying out for WWF. Elbows, knees, and feet were pushed and jabbed and wiggled into places I’m pretty sure there should never be limbs forced. But fuck did I already love them more than life itself.
I ran my hand over my stretched belly. There were already stretch marks pulling at the sides, decorating my skin with stripes. I traced them softly with the tip of my finger, wondering if they’d be there forever, as a permanent reminder of my babies.
Soon they would be here, crying and eating and pooping, and for a minute I wondered if it would be so bad to just keep them here forever. I wasn’t sure if I was ready for motherhood. It was a daunting task, one that I wasn’t sure I was fit for. Granted I hadn’t exactly had the best role models.
Life in and out of foster care was a scary world. Not knowing what kind of person you would be left with next. Were they sweet—the kind that took in children because she wanted to nurture them and give them a positive shove toward a bright future. Or, were they only in it for the regular paycheck and couldn’t give a flying fuck whether you made it out of there alive, as long as they could buy their cigarettes and vodka every night.
I wanted to be a good mom, strong but fair, protective—but not one of those helicopter parents that won’t let their kids do anything remotely exciting—and nurturing but without stopping them from being their own person.
It was all so much to think about, so much to take in. My head was spinning, my body ached, and I could really go for a drink right now to calm my nerves. But no, couldn’t do that either.
Two strong hands slipped around my body from behind, and I eased my body back in Optimus’ chest, enjoying the way he supported me, taking some of the pressure off my limbs. On a heavy sigh, I placed my hands over his. His rough and calloused hands felt strange on the soft skin of my stomach, but I found I rather enjoyed the feeling.
“One, two and three,” he said, placing his chin on my shoulder. His breath tickled my ear. “All of my babies still together.”
I smiled and rolled my eyes. “There’s still like ten weeks, Op. We aren’t going to be separated anytime soon.”
He chuckled. “Gonna make the most of the time I have where you’re all in one place. ‘Cause once those kids start moving, we’re gonna have our work cut out for us.”
“You’re already thinking of when they’re going to be able to crawl and walk and escape?” I retorted, looking at him through the mirror with a horrified look on my face.
“And when they’re gonna be able to drink, and ride motorcycles—”
I laughed at his obvious assumption. “Oh, I see. You’re assuming these two munchkins are gonna be boys?”
His lips brushed my neck and sent a red hot flush through my body. “Woman, you give me two more girls and I’m gonna go gray before I hit forty.”
Lifting my hand, I brushed my fingers through his unusually long hair. He always kept it cut short, buzzed almost. But lately, he’d let it grow out. I can’t say I minded too much. Finding that I could now tug on it while we were having sex was a whole new experience, and one I didn’t want to lose anytime soon. It made me feel powerful and Op loved when I was demanding.
“Oh no… I think I can see a gray hair.”
I yelped when his lips tugged at the skin of my neck as a sharp sting shot through me, but it was soon soothed as he pressed his soft lips to the sensitive area. “Don’t test me, blackbird.”
A hard kick in my stomach had us both startling and looking down at the round bump.
“Fucking hell, what you breeding in there? Karate kids?” Optimus joked as he rubbed his hand over a protruding knee, or elbow, or something. I watched him smile as it was slowly withdrawn. “That’s my boy,” he whispered.
I shook my head but couldn’t help a grin as this monster of a man eased and soothed his children, even while they were in my stomach.
Optimus was born to be a father—from what I’d heard, he’d had the perfect example of one growing up. I didn’t know much about Dealer, but Optimus once described him like a prickly pear. Tough and thorny on the outside, but soft and sweet on the inside. I really wished I could have met him. He sounded like a great man.
“Come on,” Op urged with a tap on my ass. Which, by the way, I’m pretty sure was getting rounder. “Get dressed and let’s go get some breakfast. I told Harlyn we’d only be a few minutes.”
I snorted as I moved over to the bed and pulled my most comfortable maxi dress over my head. “You know she doesn’t want to sit with us anyway. She’s far too cool for that.” The dress floated down over my bump, accentuating it nicely, with the hem just brushing the floor.
I wasn’t usually the girliest girl in the world. For sure, I liked to dress up and go out, but I would never say that my everyday wear included dresses. Well, it does now. They are by far the most comfortable thing to put on. Those damn stretchy waistband pants they have freaked me the hell out, and getting them off and on to pee was almost as bad as wearing regular jeans.
At this stage, when I needed to pee, I didn’t have time to fuck around with pants. I barely had time to pull down my panties.
“She’s seven, not seventeen,” Optimus grumbled. “She can sit with her father without acting like it embarrasses her.”
Harlyn really was growing up, and flourishing after all the setbacks she’d had. I could tell she was missing her mom, though. The last few months had been a rollercoaster ride of emotions and events. But for now, it was safer for everyone, especially Harlyn, that Wrench and Sugar weren’t here. Optimus was doing what he could to help, but it really wasn’t much. Our job was just to keep Harlyn safe and happy until she could have her mom back.
Op and I loved having her around, she was smart, quick witted and kept us on our toes. She was also super excited to be a big sister and help us care for these two little ones.
