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Emi’s laugh fills the air, and I can’t help but laugh with her as I once again entwine our fingers and swallow away my unshed tears.
This has to be the best day of my entire life.
* * *
This week with Emi has been incredible. We’ve reached a turning point in our relationship, and when we went for the scan, I got to see my future on a small screen with my wife’s hand in mine.
The feeling was indescribable. Pride, along with a fierce need to protect them, made my body tense, my heart swell, and my mind determined.
Emi hasn’t mentioned Lizzie again, and I’m grateful for that. The last thing I want to do is unload my previous shitty relationship on my wife. Not when she’s the only thing that matters to me now.
At one point during my relationship with Lizzie, I thought I was falling in love with her—I even told her so. But now I can look back and realize I was in love with the idea of a relationship but not willing to take the next step. I know now it could never have been love because with Emi, I’m all in, and without a shadow of a doubt, I want her and our babies, forever. I love her with everything I have, and what I don’t have, I’ll create for us.
I still can’t believe I’m going to be a dad when I never considered that for my future at all. I knew Lizzie wanted children eventually, and it’s one of the reasons we broke up. I also knew her behavior was not acceptable, so there was no way in hell I’d want to father a child with her. There’s no doubt in my mind she’d use the child as a weapon against me, and that’s something I wasn’t willing to let happen. Ever. Being on the receiving end of that behavior as a child, I know the damage it can cause. The thought alone would tear my heart out, so I vowed never to let our relationship develop further, and her erratic behavior made it easy to follow through.
I tug on my joggers and make my way downstairs. Emi insisted the staff leave early tonight because my best friends have accepted an invitation by her to come over for dinner. I walk into the kitchen and, not for the first time, she takes my breath away. She rushes around flustered, unaware I’m watching her, taking her in.
I walk over to her and grip her shoulders and turn her around. “Red, you need to calm down.”
Her black orbs sparkle, and she licks her lips. “I want them to like me.”
I startle at her words. Never in a million years has Lizzie wanted my friends to like her. She saw them as an inconvenience, that they took me away from my time with her. She was rude to them, and in return, they were rude to her, so I kept our relationships as separate as possible, vowing never to bring the two relationships together again, until now.
Until her.
She leans up on her tiptoes and kisses the corner of my mouth. “You said Reed is a fussy eater, right?”
I smirk because the fact that she’s made a mental note of all the snippets I’ve given her about my best friends is incredible and a show of how amazing she is.
But calling Reed fussy is a fucking understatement. Reed was brought up with a silver spoon so far wedged into his ass he’s unable to shit without it coming out sparkling.
“He’ll be fine, baby.” The fact she’s worried about Reed makes my heart swell, and I swear I fall for her even more.
The security intercom buzzes, and I reach out to the wall and press the button. “Sir, your guests have arrived.”
“Thank you, send them up.”
I kiss Emi’s forehead and gift her with a reassuring smile, take her hand in mine, and head toward the front door.
Opening the door, Tate pushes past and annoyingly ignores me and throws his arms around Emi. “Come here, beautiful.” My body tenses with an insane jealousy I’m not used to feeling. I tug her from him and place my hand firmly on bump. On both of them. “Keep your fucking hands to yourself.”
Tate throws his head back on a chuckle and holds his hands up. “Calm down, I was just saying hello.”
My temple pulsates. “Then fucking say hello, Tate. I don’t need you to maul her and our baby.”
Emi places her hand on my chest, but my glare remains on Tate until her soft lips meet with mine and I relax into her. “Be nice.” She smiles playfully.
“Yeah, Shaw. Be nice,” Mase mimics, grinning as he holds his hand out toward Emi. I growl and almost want to push it away, but I relent with the reassurance of her soft touch. “I’m Mase. Nice to meet you, Em.”
“Her name’s fucking Emi, dumbass,” I snap back.
Owen pushes past Mase with a bundle of beers in his hands and a nod toward Emi. Other than that, he blanks us both, and I can’t say as I’m disappointed. If only my other friends could do the same.
“We have beer, Owen,” I say as I turn to follow him, heading toward one of the numerous living rooms.
EMI
Shaw stalks after Owen, and I turn to watch Mase and Tate shove one another like schoolboys while making their way toward the living room. I can’t help but smile in their direction.
