Alfie glanced in the direction his mate’s voice came from. He got out of his seat and walked slowly towards Chi.
“How much did you hear?” Alfie stopped in front of his mate and looked at him from under his lashes.
Chi’s arm went around his waist and pulled him into his body. “Enough to know that you’re happy about us having a baby.A baby.” Chi’s voice cracked.
“You’re happy?” Alfie’s face was buried in Malachi’s chest, so his voice came out muffled.
He let out a yelp when he was lifted off the ground, and his legs went around Chi’s waist instinctively.
“I’m ecstatic, love.We’re having a baby!” Before Alfie could reply, Malachi’s lips were on his, soft—almost reverent. When Chi broke their kiss, he touched their foreheads together and whispered, “Thank you, love.” Alfie saw the tears roll down his mate’s eyes. “Thank you,” Malachi repeated, before sealing his lips to Alfie’s again.
Malachi walked them upstairs to their bedroom and worshipped every inch of his body, reminding Alfie—not that he needed it—how bloody lucky he was to have this man… this life.
It wasn’t until much later he realised he’d ditched his brother, but he knew Axel would get it.
Thirty-Four
Malachi
Malachi rubbed his mate’s stomach. Alfie had been sick almost every day of his pregnancy, and though he was just past the halfway point, he'd barely put on any weight. In fact, he’d actually lost a little. No one would even know until you lifted his t-shirt and saw he had the cutest little baby bump.
Malachi loved rubbing Alfie’s bump, but he hated that his mate felt so bad and was having such a hard time.
Chi was worried, even when Alfie tried sneaking out of bed to be sick without him noticing, but he’d shut that down immediately.
He heard his mate’s stomach grumble, so he picked him up and raced to the bathroom, reaching the toilet just in time.
Alfie emptied his stomach and immediately felt better, as had been the case since the nausea began. Malachi ran the tap for Alfie and watched as he splashed cold water on his face. His mate let out a groan before sighing.
“You look beautiful, love.” Malachi rubbed Alfie’s back.
Alfie stuck his tongue out, then muttered, “Bite me.”
Alfie turned green again and looked like he was about to be sick. Malachi rubbed his back and repeated, “Breathe, breathe, breathe,” over and over.
When his mate could finally speak, he bit out, “Of course I’m bloody breathing.”
Malachi chuckled, not taking his mate’s mood personally.
“Why don’t you watch TV, and I’ll grab some crackers and Sprite for you,” Malachi suggested. It was one of the few things that Alfie actually managed to keep down.
Alfie groaned and sighed, “Sure.”
“I’m sorry, love. It’s only a couple more weeks,” Malachi tried soothing.
“Eight weeks,” Alfie moaned, “Get it right. Eight. Bloody. Weeks.”
Malachi knew better than to point out the weeks were flying by since his mate had bitten his head off the last time. Apparently, if Chi wasn’t puking every moment, he didn’t get to talk.
“We have the scan at four with Cam,” Alfie reminded him.
“I know, love. I think we’re going to have to drive down to the clinic today. I don’t want you walking.” Malachi didn’t want to go overboard being protective, but Alfie sometimes pushed himself past his limits.
“Or you could carry me,” Alfie teased.
“I do like having you in my arms,” Malachi bent over and placed a kiss on Alfie’s lips, “but I don’t want to jostle you and make you sick.”
Alfie groaned, “Yeah. It won’t be cute if I end up puking all over you.”
