“And helping Gran.”
“I know.”
“And you can ring us anytime. You know that don’t you, because I’ll be waiting for you to call me and it doesn’t matter if it’s even in the middle of the night.”
“Tristan.” I cut him off, seriously we’ll be here all day.
“Okay, okay.” He hugs everyone a second time.
“Thanks so much.” I hug my mom and then my dad. “We really appreciate this.”
“You kids have fun.”
“We will.” Tristan smiles as he shakes my father’s hand, “Thank you. Call me anytime because…”
“Tristan,” everyone yells, cutting him off.
He holds his hands up in surrender. “Okay, okay. Get in the car, woman.” He tries to act tough as he opens my car door for me.
“Bye everyone,” I call. “I’m so excited.”
Tristan closes the door, gets behind the wheel and looks over at me. “Are you ready for your babymoon, Mrs. Miles?”
I smirk. “You bet your fucking life I am.”
The plane touches down on the runway and I smile over at my traveling partner.
We are heading to Jameson’s luxury beach house in Miami, it was as beachy as we could get without leaving the US. With me being this pregnant, Tristan was too nervous to leave the country.
I peer out the window of the private jet to see the car on the tarmac waiting for us, I just can’t wait to get there.
Three days later.
I lie on the deckchair and smile up at the sun, topless and pregnant and good lord I must look a treat. The sun on my skin is too perfect to cover up.
Tristan is sleeping on his deckchair beside me and this is the most relaxed I have ever seen him. He’s been so busy with work and the kids and the house and preparing for the baby, he literally hasn’t stopped for months.
We needed this.
Time away on our own to breathe. To take the time to enjoy each other, no thinking about dinner, no chores and no kids squabbling over the dinner table.
Just the two of us and all the loud sex we can have.
And trust me, we’ve had a lot. I think the paint is peeling off the walls from the things it has seen.
We had cheese and biscuits for dinner last night, and it was fucking perfect.
We lay by the pool and watched the sun go down, Tris drank cocktails, I drank mocktails and we ate our weight in cheese and biscuits. By the time it came around for us to go out to dinner we were both full and didn’t feel like going. So we had a two-hour soak in the hot tub instead.
I pick up Tristan’s notepad and pen and read through the names we have narrowed it down to. Is there anything harder than choosing a baby’s name?
TOP CHOICES.
GIRLS
Summer
Phoebe
Sage
Micha
Arna
Poppy
Violet
Keeley
BOYS
William—Billy
Evan
Arlo
Regan
Art
Nate
Braxton
Cooper
I smile as I go over the names, Tris has put so much thought into this.
“What are you thinking?” he asks, his voice still sleepy.
I glance over. “I don’t know.” I twist my lips as I go over the list. “I want a name that goes with the other boys’ names but then it has to sound strong with Miles.”
“Anderson-Miles,” he replies.
I glance over to him. “What do you mean?”
“I want the baby’s surname to be Anderson-Miles, I want it to have the same surname as its mother and brothers.”
“You want the baby to have Wade’s surname?”
He shrugs. “He’s sharing his sons with me, it’s only fair I share my child with him. He’s a part of this family too.”
My eyes well with tears as I stare at him.
Just when you think you couldn’t love someone more than you already do.
“No, Tristan. You will not share this baby with anyone. You are its father and its surname will be Miles and only Miles.”
He gives me the best come-fuck-me look of all time.
I sit up and lean over and kiss him softly. “You have no idea how much it means to me that you offered that.” My lips linger over his. “My god, I love you so much,” I whisper. “How do I ever deserve you?”
He cups my face in his hands as our kiss deepens. “You should probably suck my dick to prove it.”
I giggle, typical Tristan Miles answer, nothing will ever change. “It always comes back to sucking dick with you, doesn’t it?”
He smiles and pulls me down on top of him, “You know it, wench. Get busy.”
Tristan sways me to the music on the dance floor. “I don’t want to go home tomorrow.” He smiles against my temple.
“Me neither.” I smile against his lips. “Thank you, this has been one of the best weeks of my life.”
And it has, swimming, sunning, laughing and love.
So much love.
“It has.” He smiles wistfully as he looks out over the crowd. “I’m nervous about the baby coming.”
“You are?” I frown. “Why, you are a natural with kids?”
“It means less time with you.”
My eyes search his. “You will never have less time with me.”
“We both know that’s not true. Our time together is already so…”
“Crowded?” I smile.
He smirks as if not wanting to elaborate.
“Tris.” I look up at him. “One day, these children will all be gone, moved out and living their own lives and it will be just me and you. All alone in our big old house.”
“Promise?”
My heart breaks a little, this is the first time in our relationship that he has ever admitted that he needs more alone time. I need to make more of an effort after the baby comes. “I promise.” We keep swaying to the music. “We should make a new family tradition.”
“What’s that?”
“You and I should come back here every year on our own for a week. Just the two of us.”
He smiles down at me. “We could do that.”
“Maybe next year we can make another baby or maybe even twins.”
He winces. “Calm down, Anderson. Fuck.”
I giggle and he takes my lips in his with a perfect kiss, tender and loving. Hot and heavy, all the things that my beautiful husband is. His hand slides over my pregnant stomach as he holds me close, I feel his arousal roll in like a fog. We are so physically in sync, it’s like we share a body. “I need to get you home, Mrs. Miles.”
I smile up at him. “Well that depends.”
“On what?”
“On whether you are going to do bad things to my body.”
“That can be arranged.” He smiles darkly as he runs his hand over my stomach once more. “Well, as bad as I can do with you in this condition.”
“You mean the beach ball condition?”
He pulls me by the hand off the dance floor. “I’m talking the orca whale condition.”
I burst out laughing and so does he. “Are you calling me a whale?” I fake gasp.
“Don’t worry, I love whales.” He picks up my coat and handbag. “Especially fucking them.”
I laugh out loud. “You need to stop talking now, Mr. Miles.”